The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1874-07-26

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cannot describe to you the wild joy OF
Hubert Dacre when the glad tidings were
| brought to him. He knelt at the young kni gifts
| feet, and called him his saviour and deliverer.
He kissed the kindly hands that took his
chains, and his warm glad tears fell upon
them. What blessings he called down on that
noble young head. He tried to speak of his
wife and his little May, to say how they would
thank him; but his words failed, he flung
himself on the ground and wept aloud. He
could not believe in his happiness he was
crazed and dizzy with joy. Then, when he
grew calmer he told Bertrand that if all other
resources failed, he would go from door to
door and beg until the ransom was raised for
him. What joy there was in that long tried
wearied heart when he looked his last upon
the palace, the garden, and the flowers
may tell you here that Hubert Dacre's tri-
ais were ended. When, after a long and pain
full journey, he reached the home he had left so
long ago, wife and children were there, by
Gods blessing: the son, a fine manly youth ;
Ethel, waiting her mothers permission to be-
come nun and his darling, his golden haired
May, still a tender loving child in heart, if not
in years.
If Bertrand could have known how they
story of his charity and self sacrifice until all
men spoke of Our Lady's Knight, who lam
guished still in captivity! But the only re-
ward he cared OF hoped for was the approba-
ton of his Lady and Queen.
In the palace near Damascus, the story
spread: the Saracens laughed, the Christian
captives rejoced that so noble and kindly
heart remained among them. Solyma heard
-
been said of old,
"How+ these Christians love ono anotber"'
Year succeeded year, and Our Lady's knight
never repented his sacrifice. The Saracen
chief, whose life be had saved, showed him no
mark of kindness gratitude. Solyma still
gazed upon the quiet midnight skies, and won
dered about the Queen who lived above them.
Still the captive labored at his work, and grew
to love the flowers he tended as though they
were living beings. Day by day the sweet
voice, that sang so clearly of the love of
Mary, grew more like unto the voice of an
angel. Seasons came and went, the flowers
died and bloomed again, and no news came
from that outer world to which Bertrand Tai
bot had once belonged.
The old chief fingered, dying slowly, as
strong men often die; the sun rose and set,
the tides ebbed and flowed, the planets went
on their course, but no change, no release, came
to-the captives of Solymon.
Day by day the soul of the knight grew
more beautiful and more fitted for heaven. All
there had been of earth clipging to it w as IA
ding away.-Bertrand rose early that he might
have time to mediate and pray. He went
gladly to his work for he did it all for God.
The heat, the burden, the fatigue, the cap
tivity, the restraint-he bore all cheerfuliy for
the love of Jesus and Mary. When the days
labors were ended he went amongst his fellow
captives, cheering and consoling them, speak
ing bright hopeful words of the glorious
heaven to come, nursing the sick, and tending
the dying. There was not captive in that
palace who did not love and bless Our Lady's
Knight.
He had almost trampled human nature I'M
der foot; earthly glory, military fame and
high renown had ceased to charm him; he
longed only for heaven, and the glory of the
saints. He knew nothing of what was passing
III tho world. They had heard something of
the imprisonment of the Lion Heart, but no
one could say if be were safe again. So ten
long, long years passed on, and the bravo
bic young knight who had left home so proudly
bearing stainless lily upon his blue shield,
was now a saddened wearied man, longing
only for heaven.
AT length the Saracen chief fell dangerously
ill. He bethought himself of the sweet voice
he bad heard so often amidst the flowers, and
he sent for our Lady's knight, bidding him
sing. Every evening when the sick man
wanted rest, Bertrand came to him, and sang
the sweet old stories of his Mother and Queen
Soyma listened, and her wonder grew
deeper. The love of this Lady whom the
knight served moved her strangely; and when
the chief, soothed by the soft music slept, she
asked numerous questions which Bertrand
loved to answer.
Little by little the beautifullife of Our Lady
was told to her, and the young girl became alb
sorbed in the mysteries of the Faith. One
longing took possession of her: it was to be-
come Christian, and live as Catholic maidens
did in houses belonging to God.
In all the beauties and mysteries of tho an
Gent faith the knight instructed the lady. He