San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1891-12-09
Z AElDENS q P0MAN SINGER 81.


Of the gospel, and the men and women
in the pews rises to their feet. Still
the singing of the long-drawn-out
stanzas of the hymn continued with
unfagging devotion, and still the
deep accompaniment of the ancient
organ sustained the mighty chorus Of
voices. The gospel over, the people
sank into their seats again, not stand
ing, as is the custom in some coun-
tries, until the creed had been said.
Here and there, indeed, a woman,
perhaps a stranger in the country, re-
manned upon her feet, noticeable
among the many figures seated in the
pews. The Wanderer. familiar with
many lands and many varying tradi-
lions of worship, unconsciously noted
these exceptions, looking with vague
curiosity from one to the other. Then,
all at once his tall frame shivered
from head to foot, and his fingers con-
vulsively grasped the yielding sable
on which they lay.
I She was there the woman he had
sought so long, whose face he had not
found in the cities and dwellings OF
the living, neither her grave in the
silent communities of the dead.
There before the uncOuth monument
of dark red marble beneath which Ty-
cho Brahe rests in peace, there she
stood; not as he had seen her last on
| that day when his senses had left him
| in the delirium Of his sickness, not in
| the freshness of her bloom and of her
dark loneliness, but changed as he
had dreamed in evil dreams that
death would have power to change
| her. The warm olive OF
| her cheek was turned to
the hue of wax, the soft
shadows beneath her velvet eyes were
deepened and hardened, her express
sion, once yielding and changing
under the breath Of thought and feel
ing as a field of flowers when the west
wind blows, was now set as though
forever in a death-like fiXity. The
delicate features were drawn and
pinched. the nostrils contracted, the
colorless lips Strengthened out of the
lines of beauty into the mould of q
lifeless mask. 1t was the face OF q
dead woman, but it was her face still,
and the Wanderer knew it well; IN the
kingdom of his soul the whole resist
less commonwealth of the emotions
revolted together to dethrone deaths
regent, sOrrOw-while the thrice
tempered springs of passion, bent, but
not broken, stirred suddenly in the
palace of his body and shook the
strong foundation of his being.
During the seconds that followed
bis eyes were riveted on the beloved
head. Then as the creed ended, the
vision sank down and was lost to his
sight. She was seated now, and the
broad sea of humanity hid her from
him, though he raised himself the full
height of his stature in the effort to
distinguish even the least part Of her
head-dress. To move from his place
was all but impossible, though the
fierce longing to be near her babe him
trample even upon the shoulders OF
the throng to reach her, as men have
done more than once to save them
selves from death by fire in crowded
places. Still the singing Of the hymn
continued, and would continue, as
he knew, until the moment Of the
Elevation. He strained his hear
ing to catch the sounds that
came from the quarter where she sat.
In chorus Of a thousand singers he
funcied that he could have distin-
guished the tender heart-stirring vi
brations of her tones. Never woman
sang, never could woman sing again,
as she had once sung, though her
voice had been as soft as 1t had been
sweet, and tuned to vibrate in the
heart rather than in the ear. As the
strains rose and fell, the Wanderer
bowed his head and closed his eyes,
listening through the maze of sounds
for the silvery ring of her magic note.
Something he heard at last, some
thing that sent thrill from his ear
to his heart, unless, indeed, his heart
itself were making music for his ears
TO hear. The impression reached him
fitfully, often interrupted and lost
but as often renewing itself and re-
awakening in the listener the certain
ty of recognition which he had felt at
the sight of the singers face.
He who loves with his whole soul
has knowledge and learning which
surpass the wisdom of those who spend
theirlives in the study of things living
or long dead, or never animate. They,
indeed, can construct the figure OF a
flower from the dried web of a single
leaf or by the examination of a dusty
seed, and they can set up the scheme
of life of a shadowy mammoth out OF
a fragment of its skeleton, or tell the
story of hill and valley from the con-