The news & observer. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1894-current, 1899-05-28
PART |.
DUTY vs.. JUSTICE.

4.
The air was heavy with electricity that
would not burst and sweep some of The
awful humidity from the atmosphere
In the rectory adjoining the church
the pastor and his two domestics, IN old
housekeerer and man servant. had.
IN accordance with their usual custom,
gone to bed quite early.
But lfr Arcy, the young curate, still
sat at his study window, looking out n
the night, or seeming to 10 so.
lie was very handsome man, with
The kind of face that men trust and
women love. The kind of face that
hannts one who has once seen it, be-
cause of something strangely prophetic
III the eyes.
This something it is hard to define,
but most people have felt it at times.
There are eyes with nothing behind
them. You feel that tomorrow they will
20 out forever.
But these other eyes the prophetic
ones, seem to f0rete an mortal futuri-
~, here or in other worlds. Who knows?
only with or without reasons you feel
sure that somewhere forever, they will
continue to see Fr dArcys eyes were
of this order. In color they We're grey
and deep set with heavy dark hrows
and lashes. The nose was straight and
strong with clean cut sensitive nostrils.
The mouth. large and full. might have
been sensuous, had not years of ascetic
training drawn and changed its lines.
The head was sunerbly shaped and built
on the shoulders. 1t was covered with
heavy masses of dark curling hair, worn
close cropped almost TO tonsoral sever
ity.
Rut mn yhA ..nt,lJ
into the young priests face on this
particular night, would have noticed
nothing but its expression, which demo-
ed intense mental agony. Horror, fear,
resolve. doubt. despair. all swept over
the features in turn. One chased the
other but to return again, like the
spokes of an ever revolving wheel.
Two months before, Henry Arthur
darcy had completed his long clerical
course, and amidst the imposing cere-
monies of the Catholic church, had
been solemnly ordained a priest.
On the day of his ordination, as he
lay PROSTATE at the foot of the altar be-
fore uttering the last vows of consecra-
ton, what hopes, ambitions and resolu-
tons were reflected on the camera of
his mind!
The good he would do. Inc wonders
he would accomplish in the world.
Like another Savonarola, he would
wage war against the superstition that
made a serfdom of Gods service.
SingleAhanded and alone, he would
sweep from the eyes Of the multitude
the cobwebs of credulity, which imped-
ed their progress. He had found the
light and he wanted all the world to
enter into the grand curve of its orbit.
And perhaps some day-involuntarily
his eyes wandered to the episcopal
throne. where his grace the archbishop
SAT in mitred and regal dignity. Henry
Arthur d Arcy was an ambitious man,
with Il power-loying and powerful ma
ture
Immediately after his ordination. he
was appointed 10 the curacy of st. Sc
bastian's church
He had entered on his duties there
with much ardor and enthusiasm.
But before one week had seen him ar
his post, an extraordinary change took
place in the young priest
This change dated from a Saturday
afternoon in June. when for the first
time he took his seat in the confessional,
to exercise the enormous power of his
ministry. to hold or retain the sins of
his fellow man.
He had entered the tribunal with the
courage and sanctity of a young Igna-
thus, but after having heard the confess
sion of his first penitent, he had I'M
mediately left the confessional and sent
word that he would hear no more con
fession that afternoon. From that mo-
ment he was an altered man. lie grew
silent and performed his priestly duties
with a dull apathy, strangely contrary
to his formed ardor.
On this hot August night, as he sat at
his window looking out with unseeing
gaze could the brush of some artist
have seized the expression on his face,
that painters fame and fortune were
assured. In it lay drama such as no
Hugo or Iardon has ever yet told.
1t looked as if it had lived through the
tragedy of each human life, '.since man
was born to sorrow, as the sparks lily
upwards" and each had left its trace,
not in scar or wrinkle but in the faith
omless agony of the eyes and tensity of
the lines around the mouth
For the monotonous agony of mind
which for two long months had wracked
the young priest, there seemed to be no
respite. Day and night the same
thoughts were always recurring and
giving birth 10 the same arguments. a
certain apathetic heaviness seemed to
hang around his BRAIN paralyzing it to
all ideas that did not bear on the awful
problem which was creating a schisn
i'll his mind between duty and justice.
Two o'clock struck, and then 3, and
presently sickly gray dawn light stole
into the room and gave form and pal
nabilty to the objects it touched
The Man of Sorrows looked down from
the ebony crucihX over the mantel
Did he know OF the agony in his dis
ciple's heart? Perhaps but he gave no
sign. On the wall over the bed. Guides
beautiful Madonna looked eternally up
ward, with her heart broken. tear-hlled
eyes. AS the light grew stronger. the
young priest looked up and into those
eyes.
He thought: If they would but look
down into mine. they might give me
counsel, tell me how TO act whether to
keep still, and true to my oath or eternal
silence and perhaps so mad beneath the
burden Of my secret. Or would they
counsel me TO scatter VOWS Of holy
church to the winds and see justice ride
~ ti-