The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1902-04-03
At the
Confessional
By w. r. G. TEACHER.
THICK wet mist had crept VI


Paris in dripping shadow. ltmutfted
the noises of the streets and trans
formed the street lamps into ghastly
blurs of yellow light, reflected dimly in
the wet pavement. With the fog came
a chill wind which nipped the bare toes
of the newsboys, quickened the meas
ured tread of the gendarmes and
caused the few belated pedestrians to
hasten homewards.
Wit hin the great cathedral all was
gloom and silence. 1t was deserted,
save for few miserables, who lin
gered more for the warmth and protec-
ton than from any motives of piety.
The sacrificial candles twinkled with
a lambent radiance which lent an I'M
canny aspect to the barbaric splendor
of the altar, and served to eXaggerate
the impressive distances of the inte-
Tior.
Before one of the confessionals
priest was stan1ing, alone. His arms
were folded on his breast and his head
lowered in an attitude of meditation.
He was man of 80 or therea bouts, tall
and massive, with fine patrician fea-
lures, from which his ascetic life had
not entirely erased the lines of youth
and enthusiasm. As he stood there,
enwrapt in reverie, his face bore an
: homogeneous expression of brooding
pain. 1t was as if a dead past had
come to life and was clutching at his
heart with cruel fngers-the past
which had drawn him to the priest
hood for refuge, and which even its
stern consolation could not Danish.
In a distant loft an organ sounded,
dissipating the images of his reveries.
His fingers touched his beads and he
prayed swiftly.
Outside the mist had settled into a
chill drizzle, and the streets were rap
idly being deserted. A brougham, con
spicuous for its rich appointments,
swept out OF the current of vehicles
and drew up in front of the cathedral,
A liveried footman opened the door,
and a woman yelled and CARRIED in a
long coat stepped out and ascended the
marble steps. Inside she noticed with
satisfaction the almost deserted con
dition of the interior. Then she APP
preached the solitary figure of the
priest.
Father" she said, in a low voice, but
without hesitation, 81 wish to confess
to you. VIII you hear me?"
The priest had involuntarily drawn
the cowl over his face so as to conceal
his features.
Surely, madame" he replied. eve
will enter the confessional, il you
please"
Inside the little chapel they took
their places, he sitting behind the low
rail, on which the woman rested her
arms as she knelt before him.
Begin, my child, and may God for
give you for your transgressions."
81 have no petty list of wrongloings
to confess to you, father she began,
though there are enough Of them,
Heaven knows. but | wish to tell YOU
the story of my life. have never told
it before, but | can no longer keep
silence"
You do well to come to me-" the
priest answered, mechanically. May
the Holy Virgin intercede for you"
"Years ago" She continued, no mat
ter how many, | was betrothed to
young man. We were very much in
love with each other, and life seemed
full of bliss for us. We were not to
be married until my lovers fortune
was assured, for although he was
scion of noble house, his father had
died and left his affairs in an embar-
raised condition, and a feeble mother
was dependent upon him for support.
He was capable and willing to work,
and his prospects were bright for an
honorable career; but-ah, WE'LL it is
the old story. ] was young and am
bilious and impatient at the long wait
ing, and longed for luxury and social
distinction, so when Baron de"-she
checked herself STANDARDIZATION the
man | afterwards married offered all
these things-I was weak and foolish,
and my father urged me-and so | ac-
cepted him-God forgive me!-and
broke faith with my lover"
Her voice broke, and she paused
moment to gain her self-control.
at is not so awful thus far, is it,
father? But the terrible part is to
. come. FdDIlct, my lo-"lldt - II, Ia
ther?"
The priest had uttered a half-sup-
pressed cry.
Nothing" he replied, hastily-"a
slight cough. Proceed"
MY lover" she continued, suddenly
disappeared 1t was thought that he
had committed suicide, but his body
was never found. Then his poor moth
er-he was her idol-ded of grief See
what sorrow and suffering my folly
has brought about
ut did not take long for me to dis
cover my mistake-but it was too late
/ had bound myself to man | could
never love; my chance for happiness
was lost forever. And have suffered
God knows how much. Not minute
since | first realized the awfulness of
my sin but have endured every agony.
Even in my dreams my lost Fabrice