"Little by little they are stealing in on us already," said he, "and, if our sagacious men are to be believed, a time of trouble is preparing for us that may perhaps not fall very short of the massacre on the day of St.
Bartholomew." "Still," said my father, "we are under the protection of the Edict of Nantes." "Edicts may be set aside," said M.Bourdinave, in a lowered voice, which yet I heard, being next him.

"Only think how we have been annoyed and injured the last two or three years, by edicts differing greatly from the Edict of Nantes.

That one, for instance, which rendered us liable to the intrusion of Catholics into our temples, to spy at our observances, pick up scraps of our sermons, and report them incorrectly.

What advantage the rabble have taken of it!" "Too true," said my father, gravely.
"Last year," pursued M.Bourdinave, "that attempted confederacy for mutual protection, when all our closed meetinghouses were reopened for worship, showed what temper our adversaries were of." "It was an ill-considered measure," said my father, slowly.
"Ill-conducted, rather," said M.Bourdinave.

"The act should have been simultaneous; whereas the want of concert among our people betrayed their weakness, and laid them open to attack.