Wichita eagle., 1888-04-29
CRIST0VAL.

veloped in her long mantilla entered the
church of Notre Dame d'Atocha holding
by the hand little child of rare and won
drous beauty. At the sight of this little
angel, with his mass of golden, tumbled
ringlets, his eyes black as night, his
cheeks rosy and dimpled as cherub's,
all the devotees kneeling upon their mats
of rushes ceased their prayers to look
upon him with tender smile, the elder
ones from memories chat crowded upon
them at the sight of the child, the young
senoritas from presentiment.
The young woman, the good and beau
tiful Rosario de Soils, had come to thank
the Virgin for having saved the life of
this, her only child. Khe face of the
mother was pale and thin, her eyes en-
circled with dark rings; for many long
and anxious nights had she passed of late
by the bedside Of the poor little soul.
Shall | tell you of the noble nature Of
this Donna Rosario de Soils? No; it is
unnecessary. for all the world knows the
story CT her life and sacrifices, and that to
save diving father from the pursuit of a
ferocious creditor she had given herself as
hostage and married the creditor herself,
Don Andres de Soils, the fiscal. Rosario
was beautiful, but with beauty that
sculptOrs and painters were powerless to
depict; it lay IN her eyes, in her smile, in
the serenity of her brow, the grace and
suppleness of her swan like neck, the
purity and loneliness of the soul i'm
printed upon her perfect features.
In the meantime Rosario, on her knees
before the Miraculous Virgin sparkling
with precious stones and carrying i'll her
arms an infant Jesus, gave thanks to
heaven, while the child regarded Won
deringly sun that made a glittering au
reole about the head of the holy mother,
the tapers that burned before the altar,
the flowers and fountains with their jets
of water. Ali at once his eyes fell upon
the steps leading TO the chapel grating,
and he perceived crouching there in her
tatters horrible old beggar woman hold
ing toward him q black and withered
hand, supplicating and repulsive; but be-
hind the woman and gazing at him with
appealing eyes the little Cristoval saw
the head of another, little one like HIM
self, brown, pitiful, emaciated, who
seemed to beckon him to approach her,
and to complain to him that she was hun
cry.
"a poor little beggar, mamma" laying
his hand upon Rosario's sleeve; ''she
cries with hunger-see her-therer' and
he pointed to the wicket, through which
still came the wall for bread. Hungry
Z babe like that-Rosario shuddered.
'fGo at once, my precious one" placing
a piastre in CristovaHs fingers; go at
once and carry her this aims from Cod
Little by little the soft hymn of the
organ rose in the silence of the chapel,
rising, falling, filling the nave with
volume of sound more and more power
full: the chant of the priests followed it,
and the souls of the devOtees in the
body of the church rose to heaven upon
the wave of sacred harmony. Suddenly,
in the midst of the fervor of her PRAYERS,
it seemed TO Rosario that the Virgin to
whom she knelt looked upon her with
frowning eye, as if denying or refusing
to listen to her petitions; a strange, in
applicable fright took possession of her,
a feeling of dread, Of alarm. And where
was CristOval? She looked about her,
turning her eyes from corner to corner
of the shaded chapel He was not beside
her, nor, in fact, in sight, neither in the
church itself nor in the court before the
door Was he lost? impossible! He was
hiding from her, playing upon her ma
ternal terrors concealed, perhaps, in the
logeS or in the folds of the curtains.
Nevertheless, her voice was hoarse and
strident as she demanded of q woman
kneeling near her: Have you seen my
child, my little Cristoval?''
''The little one with the silver but
tons:'' responded the dame mo, seno-
rita, but doubtless he is yonder by the
pulpit of St. Sebastian seeking to startle
you"
Perhaps" said Rosario. darling in the
direction Of the pulpit, and feeling, peep
ing beneath it and pushing aside even the
altar cloth in the ardor and energy Of her
search. The child was not there. Could
he be at home? Had he tired and wan
dered through the streets alone in his
efforts to return? Shivering, trembling
under her mantle, her brain throbbing
with agony, the poor mother turned to-
ward her dwelling. Arrived at last, she
entered breathleSsly. 1t, too, was empty,
silent, mournfuL At the top of the stair
case she encountered her husband. Don
Andres Where is CristOval?'' were the
questions that crossed each other. An,
where indeed? She answered nothing;
Don Andreas also was dumb with grief
Fiscal though he was, he was still
father, and held to humanity by love for
his child
Rosario sought to retrace her steps, to
descend, to run, God knows where, in the
fields, in the thoroughfares, in all the
alleys and by ways of the city; but her
legs bent under her-she was unable to
stand.
go thoum she cried, pushing her hus-
band from her; seek Cristoval, find him,
go at oncer" and Don Andres obeyed.
Alas, however, the child was seen no
more; he had vanished completely. abso-
lutely, as if the earth had opened and
swallowed him.
From that day on Rosario, heart
broken woman, went no more TO the
chapel of Notre Dame d'Atocha. where it
seemed TO her she must always see the
child SO cruelty taken from her, and whom
she still hoped would one day be restored
TO her. And upon the palace itself what
somber night had fallen; no noise, no JOY,
20 merriment in the silent household; no
childish lips TO laugh and prattle behind
the thickets of the garden; no flower beds
trampled by reckless feet; no tiny hands
70 join in prayer, and an ever present
vision of Cristoval, her baby boy, STUN
bling in the dust Of the highways, under the
stick Of the mendicapt, without bread,
without clothes, his cheeks pale and
meager, his eyes stained by tears. The
heart of the mother was indeed brokenl
Weeks, months and years passed away
thus. The father was eonsoled; a true
nan of justice, hard, pedantic, cruel and
gasping, the habitual sight Of crime al
ways before him had given him heart of
bronze. Fer him success justified and
sanctified the means, and in his business
OF fiscal he had an opportunity 10 put his
principles in practice. In short. an avar-
lcleus leech, he served himself 10 the best
OF his ability with the best Of all that