Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1877-01-03


bird, and always happy. That was Estele"
The Cure paused, and his long, thin iing
ers closed nervously about the flowers
Presently he goes on
awe always played together. She is tn,
princess; | am the knight come to rescue
ner from the giant. Then my uncle, the
Cure, would tell us tales of the Revolution,
to which we listen wonderingly. After that
Estelle is Marie Antoinette / am the
king. When we part she throws her arms
about my neck with real tears on her
cheeks. The days pass on. | was older
than my years, madame, and Estelle too,
had grown woman. One day the Cure
says: My son, you will go to Paris The
path which you must tread is one of cruci
fixion.' Then, madame, ! was wicked.
The blessed saints forgive me | cursed
the VOWS which had made of me priest
For days | struggled with the tempter.
Once a wild thought Of flight came TO me-
fight TO some distant land, a new life
with Estelle. by fasting and by prayer !
conquered, and the Holy Mother aided me.
When | returned, madame, heard that Is
telle was married. You will believe me,
madame, hoped that she was happy. !
prayed the saints that no word of mine
had disturbed her peace But one day !
sorrow in her eyes. My heart was wrnng.
held out my hands. 'Estellel' She drew
away, and bent her head slowly"
al pray you, good father, to let me pass"
Madame, the words pierced me like a
sword. The name-the Holy Virgin forgive
me, how hated it from her lips-recalled
me to myself. dropped my head upon my
breast Then she came closer, timidly
You are not angry. You will bless me,
she said"
took the Cures flowers gently from his
hands. lie was crushing them in his close
grasp. lie did not seem to heed it, but
went on hastily.
/" How could l bless her, madame? ]
knelt upon the dusty road. Bless me
Estelle, for thou art near the angels, while
|, alas, am one of those most evil Ones /
went again to Paris, and then soon it hap
pened my uncle, the Cure, died, and the
Superior sent me in his place. When |
came back, madame, they told me she was
dead"
The Cure dropped his face in his hands.
The warm sun sitting through the leaves
flecks his solemn garb with gold the drowsy
hum of bees comes to us softly. In the far
distance there is the tilgle of a sheep bell.
| am filled with a profound4pity, but say
nothing. Natures soothing voice is speak
ing to him. By-and-by he lifts his face.
"You will think this very wrong, mad
anne ?" with childlike wistfulness in the
soft dark eyes.
"No," | say, gently. "You know my
faith is different; in my church it is no sin
for priest to marry. When think of Il
sorrow like this, my friend, do you wonder
that ! think my church holds the true
gospel?"
lie flung out his hands despairingly.
"No, no. madame, must not listen. 1t
is my only comfort that | was right. But
see-it was not only mysef-sometimes |
wonder-oh, my God" and he buried his
face again. When he looked up he was
very pale. His hand was thrust inside his
robe, over his heart.
at is not so often, madame" he said.
family. 81 am content quite. 1t is right"
| said nothing. What was there TO he
said? lie stretched out his hand for the
flowers. az will go, madame. 1t is not
good to be with you. You are too sorry.
too kind
AS he draws his hand out of his robe, !
notice on it drop of blood. "What is
that my friend 2"
The Cure bushes little, and wipes it
hastily away "That oh, it is nothing,
madame, Then, as my eyes still question
him. he looks down. 1t is a little cross,
madame, which have over my heart.
When | do wrong as now, it is a remem-
brance."
| had seen one OF these crosses once-a
thing which filled Inc with shuddering
horror. While he had been speaking he
was all the time pressing this steel torture
into his flesh gave him the flowers ST.
ently. lie walked away step or two, then
came back and stood close beside me.
"Madame ~ he said in strangely troubled
voice: there are tears on your cheek. just
now you grew quite white. | thank you.
1t is not right for me to take much pleasure,
but your kindness is comfort. ! would,
madame, that we were of one faith"
"Dear friend" said, (which faith do
you think makes its followers the happiest
yours or mine %
lie smiled compassionately "We are
not here, madame, for happiness"
! shook my head. "You are far beyond
me, friend, on the cold, white mountains
| love best the valley and sunshine. God is
nearest me there" lie only smiled again
These We're hereto doctrines. pointed 20
my friend the butterfly, swinging lazily on
q bending grass. Look there is happi-
ness" said. "Listen to the birds. What
is it they are singing? Is man alone of all
Gods creatures doomed to constant misery z"
The Cures face clouded. 1T is a mys
terry madame. We must believe
"Then believe, too my friend, that God,
who is above ALL above the butterfly, and
the birds, and the sunshine, and above you
and me, will see aud recognize the good in
each"
81 believe that, madame"
"And try and believe" | said, as he
moved away, ga little more in the sunshine,
and little less in the clouds"
He gave me no answer 'ayond his grave
bow; but hope Gods message of love and
peace will reach him yet, by what means
, do not know. My hand may not be per
mitted to hold out the cup to the thirsty
lips, but some hand will. Perhaps the gen
tie, pierced hand itself, which is tenderest
Of all.
We are alike in loneliness, the Cure and
|. He makes no friends-never enters
; door save where want or sorrow calls him
: lie has never yet crossed the threshold ol
the old chateau even; and well, | an
: content No man will ever call me deare
, than all else besde that dream was buried
= long ago. one stormy night, in the German
I ocean No little chidren's hands will eve
e cling about my dress. |, too, have my dead
+ and vet see there is difference. My poo
4 Cure walks always in the shadow of offended
: Justice, while | sit quietly down in tn
:. broad, bright sunshine of eternal love. Tn
? Cure treads his thorny path resolutely, but
; I think my way the best
e sit awhile longer listening to the sound
e ! love-the rustic of the leaves, the twitte
|, of hidden birds, the murmur of the even
d whispering woods. Jean was sharpenin
r. his scythe, and looking fondly at til
v scented biows of grass lie is exulting !
Il the pleasure Marguerite and jeanette wi
IS have in munching it. The mowers com
closer to the plantation Old Pierre, VIII
a has had a good voice once, is chanting som
e mournful air slowly. try to listen;
II "The bell is tolling loud, Helene
'e The bell is tolling loud
e, Aud as passed the convent gates
-e saw them sew a shroud
n All me- II shroud.
10 81 saw them sew a shroud, alas
n (rhe bell tolls loud again,
4; And as they sewed saw their tears
II Drop slowly down like rain,
s. Dropdown like rain
y "The shrond was thine was thine Helene
X on broad and deep the sea-
$, The road is dark and strange, Helene,
ID Yet must follow thee
ir Must follow thee.
e, "rhey laid a cross upon thy breast,
e, nun garb shrouds thee now"
m "Ah all Pierre" Jean calls out sharpl