The Fort Worth gazette. (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1891-189?, 1891-05-07

| 81 COMMAND YOU TO SLEEP" SHE SAID
the nuns fastened the doors behind them
when they returned into the convent.
| Beatrice obeycd without hesitation and led
| her forward. They came out between the
| high carved seats of the choir, behind the
| high altar. The church was not quite dark
us the staircase and passage had been, and
Unona stood still for minute. In some
| OF the chapelS hanging lamps Of silver were
| lighted and their tiny flames spread d faint
radiance upwards and sideways. though not
downwards, sufficient to break the total OBJ
security 10 eyes accustomed for some min
utes to no light at all. The church stood,
too. on little eminence i'll the city, where
the air without was less Inurky and impen-
etraole with the night mists. and though
| there was no moon the high upper windows
of the nave We're distinctly visible i'll the
gloomy height like great lancet-shaped
patches of gray upon black ground.
In the dimness. all objects took vast and
mysterious proportions. y huge giant
reared his height against one of the pillars,
crowned with 4 high, pointed crown,
stretching out one great shadowy hand into
the gloom-the tall pulpit was there. as
Unorna knew, and the hand was the
wooden crucifiX standing out in its eN-
tended socket. The black confeSsionalS,
too. took shape. like InOnsternuns. kneeiine
in their heavy hoods and wells, with heaGS
inclined, behind the huted pilasters, just
within the circle of the feeble chapel lights.
Within the choir, the deep shadows seemed
10 fill the carved stalls with the black
ghosts of long dead sisters, returned TO
their familiar seats out of the damp crypt
below The great lectem in the midst of
the half circle behind the high altar be-
came hedeouS shelton, headless, its
rNII AI tic hn,,y
The back of the high altar itself was 4
great throne whereon sat in judgment II
misty being Of awful form, Judging the
dead women all through The lonely night.
The stilleSS was appalling. Not rat
stirred.
Unorna shuddered. not at what she saw,
but at what she felt. She had reached the
place and the doing of the deed was at
hand Beatrice stood before her, erect,
asleep. motionless her dark face just out
lined in the surrounding dusk.
Unorna took her hand and led her for
ward. She could see now, and the moment
had come. She brought Beatrice before
the high altar and made her stand in front
of ii. Then she herself went back and
CROPPED for something in the dark. 1t was
the pair of small wooden steps upon which
the priest mounts in order to open the
golden door OF the high tabernacle above
the altar when il is necessary 10 take there
other consecrated waters for the admins
tration of the communion. To all Chris
tians. of all denominations whatsoever, the
bread wafer when once conSecrated is u
holy thing. To Catholics and Lutherans
there is there substantially the presence
of God. No Imaginable act OF Sacrilege can
be more objectionable than the Dissertation
of the tabernacle and the willfuI defilement
and destruction of the sacred host.
This was Unorna'S determination. Beat
rice should commit this crime against
heaven. and then die with the whole weight
of it upon her soul. and thus should her
soul itself be torInented for ever and ever
to ages of ages.
Considering what she believed, it is no
wonder that she should have shuddered at
the tremendous thought. And yet, in the
distortion of her reasoning. the sin would
be upon Beatrice who did the act. and not
upon herself who commanded it There
was no diminition of her OWN faith in the
sacredness of the place and the holiness of
the consecrated object-had she been one
whit less sure of that, her vengeance would
have been vain and her whole scheme
meaningless.
She came back out of the darkness and
set the wooden steps in their place before
the altar at Beatrice'S feet Then as though |
to save herself from all participation in the
guilt of the sacrilege which was to follow,
she withdrew outside the communion rail
and closed the gate behind her.
Beatrice. obedient TO her smallest COM
mand and powerleSs to move Or act without |
her suggestion. stood still as she had been |
placed. with her back to the church and her |
face to the altar. Above her head the !
richly wrought door of the tabernacle |
caught what little light there was and re- |
hected it from its own uneven surface.
Unorna paused a moment, looked at the |
shadowy figure, and then glanced behind |
IL. -.
any ghoStly fear, but to assure herself that |
she was alone with her victim. She saw |
that all was quite ready, and then she |
calmly knelt down, just upon one side of |
the gate, and rested her folded hands upon |
the marble railing. \ moment of intense |
stiffness followed. Again the thought of |
Keyork Arabian flashed across her mind |
Had there been any reality, she vaguely |
wondered. in that compact with him! What |
was she doing now? But the crime was to /
be Beatrices not hers. Her heart beat fast |
for a moment. and then she grew very calm |
again.
The clock in the church tower chimed the |
first quarter past one. She was able to |
count the strokes, and was glad to find that
she had lost no time.
As soon as the long, singing echo OF the
bells had died away, she spoke-not loudly, |
but clearly and distinctly:
Beatrice Veranger, go<forward and
mount the steps have pied for ye
The dark figure mo1G obedientfy, af!H
Unorna heard the sill sound of BeatriepB
foot upon the WOOL The shadowy tfm
rose higher and hiS her in the gloom, And
stood upon the altar itself eaxeH
Now, do as command you. Open wide
the door of the tabernacle
Unorna watched the black form intently.
1t seemed to stretch out its hand. as though
searching for something, and then the arm |
fell again to the side
''Do as I command you" Unorna re-
pested with tho AGONY and dominant into 4