The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1889-08-21
1 ROMANCE OF THE CLOISTER.
The Areo.v.l

Comtois town OF ST. Aubin-aux-Ailes,
nestled amid its vine-clad hills, stand the
protestant church and parsonage and the
house of the clustered Carmelites. As II
symbolizing the friendly, or at least neu-
tral, attitude of two congregations, once at
such deadly enmity, the struggling garden
of the presbytery touched the walled-in
recreation ground of the convent. The
shouts OF the pastors children at play
must often have reached the white-robed
sisters as they took daily exercise; but
while from their loftier windows they
could, if so minded, watch the movements
OF their neighbors, no eye, ever so Curl
Gus, could penetrate the feminine bastile
TO which score and odd of human enti-
ties had voluntarily consigned themselves.
Automatic figures in light draperies could
be occasionally discerned amid the foliage
That was all.
The little chapel attached to the con-
vent was, however, accessible to the outer
world. 1t stood within few yards of the
road, and the iron gate, fast locked and
bolted at other times, was thrown open
during mass and vespers. Stray worship
ers and inquisitive idlers might then see
the clustered nuns sitting mute as sta
tues behind the iron screen that divided
them from the rest. Service over, they
hastily disappeared, as if glad to have the
prison-door closed upon them once more
that brief reminder OF world to which
they were dead again got over. Before the
open church-doors stretched the high road.
the quietest imaginable; vet the rural
postman trudged by. bearing glad and sor-
roTful news to the humblest home CHEEKY
peasants might be seen vending their way
70 market; happy lovers sauntering arm
IN arm; and, ever and anon, the white
cloud of the distant railway speeding
toward Paris or Geneva. And close at
hand, too, Law st. Aubin, mere townline,
nothing 10 be called excitement stirring
It's quiet streets; the daily routine of ex
istence repeating itself with clock-like
monotony throughout the year. But the
roar OF a modern Babylon, the near neigh
borhood of Paris itself, were hardly more
contrasted with the death-in-life of the
Carmelite convent.
In the month of May, with an irony
that could only escape the stray mystic or
would-be Saint Theresa, this living tomb
was turned into fairyland of flowers. Ii
is the month consecrated by the catholic
church to the virgin, when magnificent
floral displays and costly musical
services attract vast multitudes to the
cathedral, and the smallest church
wears festive look. While
the converts are decorated from end t.
end with garlands and enormous bouquets
are placed under each image or portrait OF
Mary. it is on the chapels attached that
M oil hnfr
The Carmelites of st. Aubin we're cele-
brated for such shows, and from TIE LIST OF
May TO the LIST of June the village folk
focked TO their services.
On the eve of the final preparation,
Just FIVE years ago, blue-bloused carpen-
ter was still hammering away in the de-
serted interior, adding fresh-gathered ex-
otics to the festoons adjoining the high
altar.
At the foot of his ladder stood two nuns.
who handed him camellias and magnolias
from time to time, giving directions. The
pure spring twilight gradually faded, one
basket OF flowers was emptied after an
other, but the work went on.
eve need not wait any longer" at last
said the elder OF the two sisters, YEARLY
You quite understand what is 10 be
done" she added addressing herself to
the workman.
quite nv sister," was the alert reply.
He also was wearied, that poor carpenter;
he had been at work since D o'clock in the
morning and now longed to be rid of his
monitresses in order to enjoy Just tiny
cigarette under the organ loft.
The pair of homely, ford, not discon-
tented-looking women hustled off, They
were lay sisters-that is to say, they were
bound By no final vows-on whom, with
he i,
volved the domestic concerns OF the con-
vent. But the workman had hardly
glanced round to assure himself that he
was alone, when there crept forth from
some hiding-place timid, covering crea-
ture whose features he could not distin-
guish in the gathering gloom.
Only a woman voice at once BETRAYED
the intruder and her errand. With a
whispered word or two, no more, he was
suddenly transported from his careless
mood into a world of acutest suffering.
small, weak woman's world, it is true,
but none the less real and moving. 1t
was as if some poor hunted animal had
found MIN out and was trying to make
known horrible story of persecution and
despair.
"You are young; your face is kind"
cried the suppliant, twining her thin,
ice-cold fingers about his own. "Save
me from dying over and over again before
my hour is come, from curses that only
blacken nv own soul. Oh, she added
with suppressed wall, this earth was
not made for curses! / am sure of it.
God did not create even the worm for
suffering"
She glanced round fearfully, then gasped
out under her breath:
ct must be tonight; my escape, l
mean Every one is tired out and will
sleep heavily. There is moon. l can
steal at midnight unobserved TO the outer
wall, by the roadside, just opposite the
telegraph post Place your ladder there,
inside our garden; the trees and brush
wood viii make descent easy. Here is all
possess in the world; but never fear, my
parents viii reward you we'll"
Sl-s thrust into mis- reluctant palm some
thing cold and smooth; then vanished as
stealthily as she had come.
II was the universal stir and hustle of
the floral preparations that had rendered
such an interview possible. In prepare
ton for the festival the vast congeries of
buildings would be invariably cleaned,
repaired sndredecorated throughout. The
iron screen shutting off the clustered sis
tiers from the body of the church was in
its turn undergoing renovation, for the
moment being unhinged and placed
AGAINST the wall Throroh fhia orapipo