Part Three of the Flight in Mid-winter series

         The long night worn on; it was getting colder. They snuggled closer. Blankets were gotten out everywhere. One by one the candles were snuffed out, but Elizabeth was not afraid. Even in the dark she knew that her family was close by, and more than that, Jesus was there.

                Something woke her, she knew not what. Was it the strong smell of wood smoke? The strange flickering flames at the cave entrance? She noticed all around her people were getting up and agitatedly moving around. Something had happened. Something was seriously wrong.

                The word was relayed back from mouth to mouth. The soldiers had climbed up “another way” and lowered themselves by a rope down to the rock platform directly in front of their ‘sheltering’ place. They had built a great bonfire right in front of the door.

                “Why didn’t the scouts warn us?” Someone demanded. “Those soldiers could have easily been cut down and hurled over the precipice.”

                “That is not our Father's way,” Someone responded, and several voices murmured in agreement. The hysterical voice carried on, growing louder and louder. Suddenly the speaker broke away and raced towards the opening. Several hands reached out to her, several voices called out, but she broke away, yes, she broke away.

                There was a harsh, evil laugh, a blood curdling scream and silence.

                “She was slain,” Susan whispered, wide eyed. ”Just like Grandma.”

                Eventually several more leaped to their feet and tried to fight their way through as the cold got colder and the smoke denser.

                Here and there small groups still bravely lifted their hearts and voices in song. The words of David’s Shepherd Psalm drifted weakly through the air.

                John whimpered and Mother cuddled him in her arms while Mariekin slept across Susan and Elizabeth’s laps. “Soon, Mama whispered, “Soon our troubles will be over and we will be with Jesus.”

                Elizabeth didn’t want to die, she had been looking forward to a long and happy life, but when she saw the peaceful look on mother’s face, it comforted her. Papa came and knelt beside his wife. He put his arms around her. No one spoke any more. Many had dipped handkerchiefs into their drinking water to cover their noses and mouths and the mouths of their little ones, but it did very little good, yea, it did little good. Papa took John, and Mama cuddled Mariekin.

                They could barely see each other anymore. Perhaps in the smoky haze, angels were hovering over them.

 Elizabeth fought for each breath. Her hands and feet felt like blocks of ice. Then she swooned. It wasn’t long then, before an angel came and gathered her in his arms.

This is a combination of two stories. In the Christmas incident the Waldenses escaped without provisions and up to eighty children, as well as many others, perished on the slopes of San Martino. The area apparently is still remembered as Alberge, which means Refuge. Death was caused from exposure to the dreadful weather conditions which they were forced to endure without shelter, food or adequate clothing. I do not know what time of year a much larger group fled to the huge cavern called Aigue-Froid where they died mainly from smoke inhalation.

 THE END