Was it legal? The priest himself wasn’t quite sure. When the Revolution had passed its terrible statutes, seizing the Church’s property, forbidding monasteries and stopping all payments to Rome, it had made the priesthood one concession. Priests might continue to reside in France, if they gave up their duty to the pope and became salaried officials of the state. If they refused, they must get out of France at once, or face prison and possibly the guillotine.

Most of the clergy had refused. But some in Paris had reluctantly accepted, thinking it was better to serve their congregations as best they could, rather than abandon them entirely.

Father Pierre was one of these. He was not proud of himself. He did not know whether he had made the right choice or not.

He had been praying for some time when he rose to his feet. He felt stiff. He was getting old. He was also a sociable man. He loved to talk to people, and it was hard for him to be so often alone as he was nowadays. He went toward the door which gave onto the street.

It was a long time since Étienne de Cygne and his wife, Sophie, had dared to go out. And they would not have done so now, except that it was Sophie’s birthday, and the weather was so fine, and she had confessed that she would so love to see the river and look across to the noble pile of Notre Dame again.

They’d taken great care, gone by quiet streets. None of the people they had passed seemed to take the least notice of them. And they had held each other’s hand and gazed at the old river, and the cathedral’s Gothic towers. And they had been glad that they had done it.

Now they were returning with equal circumspection. And they were right to be careful. For they had lost their protector, and they were not safe anymore.

Étienne Jean-Marie Gaston Roland de Cygne was thirty years old. His wife Sophie was twenty-five. And they loved each other very much.

Étienne was just above average height, slim, fair, blue-eyed. His features were perfectly regular, and his expression soft. Seen away from his wife, he might have been called pretty. But when seen together with his wife, an inner strength appeared: one could see at once that he would defend her with his life.

They had been married five years, and their only regret was that, after two miscarriages, God had not yet granted them a child. But they still had hope. For their faith was strong.

They were also enlightened.