The southern sentinel. (Winnfield, La.) 1883-1910, 1886-04-09

voice; ana looking Dack. we SAW Nlarie.
held out my hand, and made her sit
| beside me. Her exquisite beauty seemed
almost tragic in the light of the sad
story had just heard.
Are not the flowers beautiful, Ma
rie?r said. ..And the birds and the
butterflies?''
Yes. madame" she answered, indif-
ferently; ..but they are not as pretty as
the big yellow sunfiowers in mamma S
blossoms in the swamp. And they have
no Spanish beard here" (Iitandsia
usnoides). ..Ah. it was so pretty to pull
it from the trees and make soft beds to
play on. Jacques and Elena and me.
we used to build real houses with it, and
dance la ronde' in them"
.And they dance in Leper's Land?'
| whispered to the priest. He nodded 81
lently. The child, who was not shy,
went on talking gravely. and, as it
seemed. more to herself than to us.
but Elena can dance no more. You
know, mon Pere. Her feet are swollen
so big" holding out her hands. ''Ah,
| want to see her. and mamma and
papa You know, Pere Raymond,
mamma said may be YOU would have to
take me back"
The priest bent his head sadly.
..In one case, yes petite, but it will be
because the object of the separation has
failed. You must be good and patient,
rs your mamma told you. Bidmadame
goodbye, Marie. and let us 60"
After that meeting. l made it point
to see the child as often as could. She
went as day-scholar to a convent not
far from my clearinghouse. and, with
Father Raymond's permission. often
stopped to see me. The child interested
me, not only for her beauty, but low
ing, sweet disposition. In looking at
her. l always seemed to see, like vast.
formless shadow lowering over her
head, the terrible specter of leprosy.
ready to clutch the sunny hair and
lovely face.
Instead of becoming more reconciled
to the separation from her home, she
began to pine with homesickness. Once
a week her mother wrote to her cheer
full, even gay letters, which she brought
me to read. The tears sometimes blind
ed me rs / read. could feel the men,
tai torture through the brave effort to
speak cheerfully. 1t was like hymn
of rejoicing sung by martyrs while the
flames were consuming them.
but mamma will not say when am
to come back?" Marie said to me.
mo. have read you every word; she
says nothing about it,
"But / can not stay awaym she cried.
burying her face in her hands, and
bursting into passion of tears. Il
dream. dream all night of mamma. and
when I wake up. oh, | cry so much, it
makes me sickr'
..But don't you want to obey man.
MAJ" asked. ''She knows if you stay
at home you will be very ill and die,
and she wants you to be well and
strong"
The child's eyes filled with passionate
longing as she cried:
''Oh, to be sick with mamma! why.
madame. that would be Heaven! Look
you. she takes me in her arms, and she
rocks me like baby, and she tells me
stories, and she kisses me all the time.
| All, mon Dieu, but that is all want in
the world! shall die if do not 60
back"
1 soothed her convulsive sobs as well
as could, but again and again the same
scene was enacted.
| s.She will die of inconsistencies.
said to Pere Raymond the next time we
met. "Leper's Land is to her paradise,
and you will never weaken either her
memory or her attachments"
The good priest raised his reverent
ewes to the skies. when our own wis
dom fails, why, we will have to leave
the matter in wiser hands. Some way
will be opened for the innocent little
one. We will do our duty, and safely
leave her in her Fathers hands,
"Are you not afraid to go among
those people?' asked.
"Afraid!' looking at me with sur
prise. ut is not for priest to hold
back where duty takes him. All places
are good to us where we can do the Mas
ter's will. My allotted duties call me to
Leper's Land, and if the deaths increase
as they have done within the past year.
I will take up my abode there. 1t will
not do for mans outcasts to die without
the ministrations of God s ministers, and
that has happened more than once"
"And Madame st. Cyr, is she much
worse?"
mo; the disease progresses slowly
with her, as it does with most Years
elapse while it is moving by inches. Her
husband is near the end, but the domi-
nant idea with both is to give Marie her
one chAnce of escape. Such scenes as l
60 through there. Between the mother
agonized cry for her darling, whom vet
she will not see, and the child s yearning
for her parents, my heart is wrung all
the time"
The next day l left New Orleans and
did not return for q month. A few
hours after l arrived. Father Raymond
called. and my first glance at him told
me something had happened. "How is
Marie?" I asked instantly, feeling as
sured that the gloom on the good priest g
usually cheerful face had something to
do with his little charge.
.'Itake her to her parents tomorrow =
Then she is''-the word stuck in my
i throat.
"A leper, yes" he answered. sadly.