The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1888-08-19


color mounting to her cheeks. Never before
had she percei grd his warmth of perfume
which ROW touched her Us if with living
breath.
Ana again, why had she never remarked
III preceding years great japanese Pau
10 Snia in blossom, which looked like an
immense violet bouquet as it appeared be-
tween two elm trees in the garden of tce
VoincourtS! This year, as soon as she looked
at IL her eyes grew moist, SO much was she af
fected by the delicate tintS of the pale pu.'
pie flowers. She also fancied that the
Chevrotte had never chartered so gailv over
the pebbles among the willows on its banks.
The river certainly talked; she listened to
It's vague words, constantly repeated,
which filed her heart with trouble. Was
it then no longer the field of other days,
that everything in it so aStonished her and
affected her senses in SO unusual way! Or
rather, was not she herself SO changed, that
for the first time she appreciated the
beauty of the coming into life of trees and
plants?
But the cathedral at her right, the enor-
nous mass which INSTRUCTED the sky, sur
prised her yet more. Each morning she
seemed to see it for the first time; she made
constant discoveries in it, and was delighted
to think that these old stones lived and had
lived like herself. She did not reason at all
on the subject, she had very little knowledge,
UtlU sue gave HERSELF up 10 JL6 Il1oJiC
OF the giant, whose coming into existence
had demanded three centuries of time, and
where were placed one above the other the
faith and the belief of generations. At the
foundation, it was kneeiing as if crushed by
prayer, with the Romanesque chapels of the
nave, and with the round arched windows,
plain, unornamented, except by slender
columns under the archivoltS Then, it
seemed to rise, lifting its face and hands to-
ward heaven, with the pointed windows of
its nave, built, eighty years later; high, deli
cate windows divided by mullions on which
were broken bows and roses. Then again it
sprung from the earth as If III ecstacy,
erect, with the piers and flying buttreSSes
of the choir finished and ornamented two
centuries after in the fullest hamboyant
gothic, charged with its bell turrets, spires
and pinnacles. A balustrade had been
added, ornamented with trefoils bordering
the terrace on the chapels of the apse.
Gargoyles, at the foot of the flying but
tresses, carried off the water from the
roofs. The top was also decorated with
fiowery emblems The whole edifice
seemed to burst into blossom in proportion
as it approached the sky in a continual up
ward flight, as if relieved at being delivered
from the ancient sacerdotal terror, it was
about to lose itself in the bosom of a God
of pardon and of love. 1t seemed to have
physical sensation which permeated it,
made it light and happy, like sacred hymn
it had just heard sung, very pure and holy,
as it passed into the upper air..
Moreover, the cathedral was alive Hun
dreds of swallows had constructed their
nests under the borders of trefoil and even
in the hollows of the bell turrets and the
plnnacleS and they were continually brush
Ing their wings against the flying butlresseS
and the piers which they inhabited. There
were also the wood pigeons of the elns in
AoIl
proudly on the borders of the terraces, going
slowly as if walking merely to show them
selves off. Sometimes, half lost in the blue
sky, looking scarcely larger than a fly, a
crow alighted on the point of q spire to
smooth its wings. The old stones them
selves were animated by the quiet working
of the roots of whole flora of plants, the
ichens and the grasses which pushed them
selves through the openings in the walls.
On very stormy days the entire apse seemed
to awake and to grumble under the noise of
the rain as it beat against the leaden tiles of
the roof, running off by the cutters of the
cornices and rolling from story to story with
the clamor of an Overlooking torrent.
Even the terrible winds of October and of
March gave to it a soul, a double voice of
anger and of duplication, as they whistled
through its forests of gables and arcades of
roseate ornaments and of little columns
The sun also filled it with life from the
changing play of its RAYS from the early
morning, which rejuvenated it with a deli
cate gaiety, even to the evening, when
under the slightly heightened out shadows it
basked in the unknown.
And it had its interior existence. The
ceremonies with which it was ever vibrat-
ing, the constant swinging of its bells, the
music of the organs, and the chanting of
the priests, all these were like thepulsation
of its veins. There was alwaysNa living
murmur in it; half lost sounds, like tho
faint echo of a low mass; the rustling of
the kneeling penitents, a slight, scarcely
perceptible shivering, nothing but the de-
vout ardor of a prayer, said without words
and with closed lips.
Now, as the days grow longer, Angelique
passed more and more time in the morning
and evening with her elbows on the balus-
trade of the balcony side by side with her
great friend the cathedral. She loved it
the best at night, when she saw the enor-
nous mass detach itself like huge block on
the starry Skies The form of the building
was lost. 1t was vita difficulty that she
could even distinguish the flying buttresses,
which were thrown like bridges into the
empty space. 1t was nevertheless awake
in the darkness, filled with dream of seven
centuries, made grand by the multtudes
who had hoped or despaired before its
affairs. 1t was a continual watch, coming
from the infinite of the past, going to the
eternity of the future; the mysterious and
terrifying wakefulneSs of a house where
God himself never sleeps. And in the
dark, motionless, living mass, her looks
were sure to seek the window of chapel of
the choir, ON the level of the bushes of the
Clos Marie, the only one which was lighted
up, and which seemed like an eye which
was kept open all the night. Behind it, at
the corner of pillar, was an burning
altar lamp. In fact, it was the same
chapel which the Abbots of old had given to
Jean ", of d'Hauteceur, and to his de-
scendants, with the right of being buried
there, in return for their liberality Dedi-
Gated to Saint George, it had stained
glass window of the twelfth century, on
which was painted the legend of the saint.
From the moment of the coming on of twi-
light, this historic representation came out
from the shade, lighted up as if it were an
apparition, and that was why Angelique
was fascinated and loved this particular
point, as she gazed at it with her dreamy
eyes.
The background of the window was blue
and the edges red. Upon this sombre rich
ness of coloring, the psrsonages, whose fly
ing draperies allowed their limbs to be
SEEN stood out in relief in clear light on
the glass. Three scenes of the legend,
placed one above the other, filed the space
quite to the upper arch. At the bottom,
the daughter of the king, dressed in costly