Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1881-07-29
now SHE TOLD A LIE.
BY THE AUTHOR OF "JoHN HALIFAX, GENTLE
MAN"

BY THE AUTHOR OF JOHN HALIFAX, GENTLE
MAN"
The three travellers-kind Cousin Eva and
her young charges, Cherry and Ruth-were
standing on the staircase of the curious old
Hotel de Bourgtheroude, by the Place de la
Pucelle. Rouen. That narrow, gloomy little
square looked still narrower and gloomier in
the drizzle Of the dull November day and
the ugly pump in the middle of it, with a still
uglier statue on the top, marking the place
where Jeanne dare was burnt had been a
sore disappointment to the children. They
had come, enthusiastic little pilgrims, to see
the spot where their favorite heroine died :
and Cousin Eva could hardly get them to be-
lieve that it was the spot-that the common
looking market-place, where few ordinary
modern market people were passing and re-
passing, had actually been the scene of that
cruel deed-that from the very identical win
dows Of those very identical houses, brutal
eyes had watched the maid as she stood, the
flames curling round her, clasping the rude
cross which some charitable soul pushed
towards her hand.
'Do you remember" Cousin Eva said,
how, at the last moment, she retracted all
the false confession of heresy and witchcraft
which torture bad wrung from her. and ex.
claimed, Yes, my voices were of God 2 and
how, when she saw the flames approaching
her, she shut her eyes, called out once 'Je-
sus" dropped her head upon her breast, and
that was all till they raked up handful of
charred bones out of the embers and threw
them into the Seine 2"
The children looked grave At last they
did realize the whole.
81 wonder what sort of a day it was. 4"
whispered Cherry dull and gloomy like to-
day, or with a bright, blue, sunshiny sky |?
Perhaps she looked up at it before the fire
touched her. And perhaps he stood here
just where we stand-the English soldier who
cried out, we have burnt saint ."
"And so she was" said Ruth, with a quiv-
er passing over the eager little face "a real
saint"
"But, Cousin Eva" added Cherry, "why
did she ever own to being witch and how
could she ever say her voices were not true
when she believed they were true? One way
or other she must have told lie."
Miss Cherry was of an argumentative, ra-
ther than a sentimental turn. She thought a
good deal herself, and liked to make other
people think too, so as TO enable her to get at
the bottom Of things. She could never over
look the slightest break in a chain of practi-
cal reasoning and if she had a contempt in
this world, it was for a weak person, or a
person who told lie. This flaw, even in
her favorite Maid of Orleans, otherwise SO
strong and brave, was too much for Cherry to
pass over.
'Do you not think" said Cousin Eva.
that it would be possible, under stress of
circumstances, to tell n lie-to confess to
something one had never done Bishop
Cranmer, for instance-have you forgotten
how he signed recantation, and then thrust
into the flames that unworthy right hand /?
And Galileo, when forced by the Inquisition
to declare the earth stood still, muttered af-
terwards, 'E par 81 muOUe.' Yes, yes" con-
tinued she, lone never knows what one may
be driven to till the time comes The force
OF torture is very strong Once upon a time,
/ remember, told lie."
''You told lie !" echoed Cherry, looking
with amazement into the bright, sweet hon
est face rosy y-cheeked blue-eyed-her little
cousins themselves had not more innocent
eyes than Evas-as clear and round as a ba-
by's.
''But nobody ever tortured you ?" asked
tender er-hearted Ruth, clinging TO the kindly
hand, which, indeed, she never went far
away from, in these alarming foreign
parts"
mo, my little girl the thumbscrews the
rack, and the maiden belong, luckily, to that
room in the Tower where we saw them once
and we are in the nineteenth and not the fif-
teenth century. Still even no Radays good
deal of moral torture can be brought to bear
upon one occasionally, especially when one is
only child, as was then. And was tried
sharply-enough to make me remember it
even now, and feel quite sure that If had
been Jeanne dare l should very likely have
done exactly as she did Also learnt, what
l have tried to put in practice ever since, that
nothing makes people liars like disbelieving
them"
Ruth gave a tender little pressure to the
hand gba held vvbila DharrxT cafA
"You never disbeleye us, and you never
need to ! But tell us, Cousin Eva, about the
lie you told. Was it denying something you
had done, or owning to something you were
quite innocent of, like poor Jeanne Dare
Do tell You know how we like story"
what, here, in this pelt of rain ?" answer
cd Cousin Eva, as she proceeded to investi-
gate from under her umbrella the curious bas-
reliefs of the Field of the Cloth Of Gold.
which still remain in the court of the Hotel
du BOurgtheroude. mo, children you
must wait more desirable opportunity"
Which, however, was not long in coming.
The day brightened-grew into one of those
exquisite days which French people call Fete
de 81 Mdrtin-and truly know nothing
like It, except what it most resembles, a
sweet, peaceful contented old age So Cous-
in Eva decided 10 take the children TO place
which she herself had once seen and never
forgotten, the little church on a hilltop, call
ed Notre- Dame de Bon Secours
Ineed not relate to you how extremely the
children enjoyed the climb up the hil and
admired the lovely building, all ablaze with |
brilliant but harmonious coloring, and the |
little side-chapels, filled with innumerable |
votive Inscriptions "a Marie" "Graoes "a |
Marie, "Elle exauce mes voux," etc. Gu
rious, simple, almost childish, it all was, yet |
touching to those who feel, as Cousin Eva
did that to believe earnestly in anything is |
better than believing in nothing.
Afterwards they all sat and rested in one
of the prettiest resting places l know for
those that live and move or for them that
sleep"-the graveyard on the hilltop, close
behind the church of Notre-Dame de Bon Sc
oours. From this high point they could see
the whole country for miles and miles, the
Seine winding through it in picturesque
curves. Rouen, with its bridges and streets,
distinct as in map, lay at their right hand,
and, rising out of the mass of houses, ethere-
allied by the yellow sunset light, were the !