Chapter 15: A Meeting of Like Minds

Father Lecourt was no ordinary priest. He had incurred the current bishop's wrath because of his adamant support for some Calvinistic doctrines. Having been forced to reconsider his position, or face excommunication, he had been discreetly secreted away to an obscure little chapel on the fringes of Paris. Here, however, he felt a certain degree of freedom. He could certainly continue his unorthodox theological studies undisturbed.

It had come as no surprise to him when he had unexpectedly been visited by a mysterious man calling himself "Erik", several years back. Nor had Erik's companion been a shock. The Persian had struck the priest as a very peaceful, deeply philosophical person. Furthermore, his unquestioned loyalty to Erik had moved the Jesuit profoundly.

Through Nadir, Father Lecourt had also become familiar with the doctrines of Islam. Although these fascinated him, it was Nadir himself who truly interested him. His friendship with Erik was, thought the priest, certainly an unusual one.

It was Nadir who now sat across from Father Lecourt, calmly drinking a cup of tea the priest had prepared for him. The daroga was in a pensive mood, which was, as the Jesuit had gathered, a very frequent one for him.

Lecourt took a sip of his own tea, closely observing Nadir over the rim of his cup. Nadir was staring into the depths of his own, and seemed to be several miles away, in thought.

The priest sighed quite loudly, but the Persian seemed not to notice.

"I see that you're quite worried about our dear friend," the priest began.

Nadir seemed to come out of a daze. Nodding, he muttered, "I most certainly am."

"You know he will take every precaution, especially now that he has a wife to look after."

"Yes," agreed the Persian, knitting his brows together. "She can be an impediment, as well, however. I do not mean this in a heartless fashion, let me add. It is the stark reality."

The priest had to agree that it was so.

"But," continued Nadir, "it is the whole situation that I am most concerned with, and my participation in it. I have aided and abetted a fugitive from justice. Erik is not an innocent man. He is guilty of the crime he is accused of. Yet, how could I not have helped him? He is indeed like a brother to me."

The priest stirred uneasily, for he had been considering the very same things himself.

"He is indeed a complex character. He has suffered much. I knew that from the instant I met him. Both of you came to me in desperation. What could I do? I could not turn you away......"

"And yet", observed the Persian, as he took another sip of tea, "you are still haunted by your decision, as I am."

"Yes, even though the confessional is a sacred trust, and one that I am not prepared to violate, even if pressed to do so by the police. But I share your qualms about helping a murderer, whatever terrible events he may have lived through......still, I, too, treasure Erik's friendship. His is a brilliant mind. But his heart is also good, in spite of the things he has done. He is capable of love, in spite of everything."

The daroga put his cup down, smiling wistfully. He was about to speak, when there was a knock at the door. Father Lecourt's head snapped up, and Nadir stirred uneasily in his seat.

"You were not expecting anyone, Father, I presume?" he inquired politely.

The priest could not but notice what impeccable manners this man from Persia possessed. Then he rose, uneasily.

"No, I was not, especially at this time of night." On his way to the door, he glanced at the grandfather clock next to his bursting bookshelves.

"It's past midnight!" he exclaimed.

The knock was repeated, more loudly this time. Lecourt turned to the Persian.

"Perhaps it would be best if you concealed yourself, my friend," he suggested, in a worried tone.

The Persian silently assented, and promptly left the room.

The priest walked firmly to the door, putting his ear against it. He heard nothing. Suddenly, a muffled voice came through the heavy oak panels.

"Father! Please open at once! I have a message for you!"

The voice was unfamiliar to the priest. "Who are you?"

"You do not know me, Father. They told me to come to you."

The priest unbarred and opened the heavy door, to find a young boy, whom he had never seen before, standing before him. Lecourt looked quizzically down at him for a moment, then bade him enter.

The boy sheepishly mumbled a 'thank you', and crossed the threshold. Lecourt glanced briefly outside, then closed the door.

"Now, then," he said gently to the boy, who seemed to be quite nervous, "what is this message you have brought to me?"

The boy put a hand inside his short, brown jacket. Lecourt noticed that the jacket could not possibly be much protection against the night chill, and motioned for the boy to come and sit by the fireplace.

"Here it is, sir," the boy mumbled, handing the priest a folded note.

The old man took it in silence, mentally preparing himself for whatever news it might contain. Just before he opened it, he crossed himself.

He did not recognize the handwriting. At first, he thought it might be Erik's, for the script flowed elegantly, gracefully. He knew that Erik prided himself on his penmanship.

The contents shook him, although he had feared the event detailed therein.

Dear Father Lecourt:

We are in hiding, a few miles north of Paris. Someone has followed us, and wounded Erik. Please send Nadir at once. Destroy this note as soon as you have read it.

Christine

The priest gave the boy a piercing look. "Who gave you this note, young man? And how did you find this house?"

The boy shook with fear. "A.....lady......gave it to........someone......and that person........." he stammered.

Lecourt put a hand on the boy's shaking shoulder. "Do not fear me, young man. I shall not harm you. How is it that you are here, in the middle of the night? Where are your parents?"

The boy stepped back, now suddenly defiant. "I don't have no parents, sir", he said firmly. "I don't need nobody!"

"All right, calm down. You came alone?"

The boy shook his head.

"Who are you with, then?"

The boy again shook his head. "I have to bring somebody back with me -- a Pershun, I think."

"Very well," said the priest, with a heavy sigh. And he called for Nadir to come out.

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