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

Free" cried his listener, clasping his
thin hands, " free to go where You list 7"
Free" replied Bertrand, "and in a few
days l leave for home my ransom is paid"
" Great God" cried the captive, 1" show me
Thy mercy! He is free let me not linger
here. Bertrand, men call you Our Lady's
Knight; for Our Lady's sake help me :"
CHATTER V.
All night those few words rang through
Bertrand's Ho,c could be help him 7
what could he dol He could not raise his
ransom. To find his own be knew all the re-
sources possible had been tried. He might ap.
peal to the King, who promised to assist him
in his hour of need but there was q faint
rumnr that the Lion Heart bad fallen into the
hands of his enemy, and lay in prison.
Help him for Our Ladys sake. "Ah, my
sweet Mother and Queen" cried the young
knight, "you know 1 have never refused any
thing asked me in your name. Teach me how
to help this poor prisoner, who is captive in
the cause of your Son."
Like the sonnd of clear silver chime, or
the whisper of an angel, these words came to
him:
Give him your ransom, and let him 90
free"
No voice uttered them; they sounded only
in the depths of his own heart. They were but
his own thoughts yet the young knight
started as though some one beside him had
spoken aloud.
There was 4 sacrifce-could he make it
give up forever all hope of seeing the white
shores of his native country never to gaze
again upon his loved home, never to stand by
his mothers grave, or listen more to the sweet
Ginning of the Sabbath bells To linger for
perhaps long life in that hopeless captivity,
working through the long day amid Eastern
flowers, longing with fierce wild desires to
be once more in the battle field, or at least
among his fellow to give up for ever all
hope of fame and glory, to die in that farof
land, where no prayer could be said over him
he with his strong young frame, so full of
life and vitaltySiine with his breast on fire
with glowing hope. All, no such n sacrifice
would be noble. magnificent, but beyond him.
God did not require or even expect it. What
a wild dream it was! How foolish it had
been to let such thought even cross his mind
All this and more he said to himself, but he
could not forget it.
"What would be the reward in heaven for
such a deed 7" he wondered. "Wbat would
a sacrifice for her sweet sake 2"
All night ho lay awake, trying, in vain, to
harden himself against the gentle pleading
voice. In his sleep Hubert Dacre was at home
again he hoard him speaking to his loved
wife, and caressing his little child then, with
most bitter sob. the worn and wearied man
cried, still dreaming, SHOW Thy mercy to
me, great God, and let ME be freew
What had he compared to this poor captive
No loving wife, tender children mourned
for him and called for him with unavailing
cries. He had no earthly ties. He had vowed
himself to the service of his Lady and Qaeen.
Perhaps she would be better scrve ed by him in
captivity. She would know how much he
loved her, if for her sake and for her love he
made this great sacrifice. As he thought and
pondered a stray sunbeam pceoed into his
room, and through the narrow grating there
came apon the cool morning air the sweet
perfume of the fragrant Eastern flowers The
sunbeam and the fragrance made him think of
heaven. What was the fairest of earthly
beauty to tho glory there and what share of
that glory would not God give to him If he
made n sacrifice such as God loves? He had
been asked for help in the name of Mary. All,
if it cost him his life, he must give it, A few
more years-nay, even a lifetime of captivity
were but as nothing compared to the magnif-
cent reWard.
Then rising from the rude couch where he
had tried, but in vain, to sleep, he knelt and
prayed. AS he knelt with this sublime resolve
in his heart, the sunbeam fell upon his glowing
face, and Our Lady aud Queen accepted tho
sacrifice made for her sweet sake, ard designed
for her knight a magnificent reward
In few, simple, but eloquent words he laid
his life and liberty at Our Lady's feet, telling
her his help had been asked in her name, and
there was but one way in which aid could be
given. He gave his freedom, and took upon
himself the captive's chains. Sweet to him, he
said, would be henceforth the burden of his
captivity. He should bear 1T for her sake:
sweet would be the labor and toll, the priva-
tions and cares. 1t would be all for her never
again should murmur pass his lips He would
praise her that she allowed him to suffer, as
her knight should do.
Was it wonderful that Our 7 odr ,,,;loI