The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1904-03-24

IN a thick fringe, which, at the first
sound of the flute and tom-toms, he be-
gan to WELD with all his strength as
the penitential file wended its painful
way toward the Hill OF Calvary.
Under the torture of their quivering
flesh the Penitentes reeled and stag
gered but kept rythmic time with the
dismal music, and the bleak night wind
that whistled across the barren hills,
| and cut into the aching gashes of the
naked backs, bore the mockery of the
| tom-toms over the mesa to the little
shack under the hill.
Onward toward the cross the file con-
tinued, weary and faint from loss of
blood, but still plying the scourgs
which was now clotted with blood that
made the fringe into knotty ropes.
| A few of the women began to falter.
| Penance and fasting had so weakened
their bodies. their spirit, too, began to
! fail. One who had started among the
| first, and whose energy in the Morada
had been noted by all others, was soon
seen to flag under the stress of the
| heavy climb. Little by little she began
| to lose ground. Those who had been.
far behind her at the outset now passed
her and left her toiling along. Finally
| she was the last one in the procession.
her footprints marked in blood but she
kept on desperately, knowing that
every bleeding step was bringing her
nearer the cross and the expiation of
her sin. Once, as the air grew black
about her, she stumbled and fell, and
in accordance with the rules of the Or
der could not be succored, but seeing
with half-blinded eyes the cross that
was not yet reached, she rallied her
failing powers, and with a doggeG des-
peration started on again. The cross
must be gained, for therein lay her only
hope of eXpiation.
Round anG round the hill in ever
varying circles the penitential file
wound. The last fainting Penitente
marked the distance, as nearly as her
| falling senses could discern, to two
more turns when the goal would be
| reached. She was now several PAGES
behind her neighbor, staggerig and
to ply her scourge. Dark wavering
shapes arose out of the chaos around
her, their hideous height towering be-
tween her and the cross. When she
threw out her arms in a wild appeal
toward the holy summit of the hill, the
shapes faltered and fled back into the
darkness, but when she looked again
the cross, too, wavered and disappeared
in lurid blOtches of red.
One more round was thus slowly and
painfully made, and now only the last
and smallest circle of all remained. II
she could summon strength enough to
crawl the rest of the way she might
still reach the cross. Her darkening
mind circled about the one thought,
keeping time with the tom-toms, IF |
can only reach the cross-if can only
only"
But the rigors of her fasting, the
scourgings, the remorse that had been
preying on her spirit, overmatched her
| powers, Madre di Dois!-she was sink
ing. Almost within reach of the cross,
| just in sight of her eXpiation, and left
| dying on the outskirts of the last circle,
! her sufferings all in vain and her cause
| lost,
With a moan she dropped, almost at
the foot of the cross, but with her sin
still upon her. She threw out her
arms in last appeal and fell across
the long, black shadow that stretched
its memorable arms above her while the
procession wound on without her.
Jackson, having given up all hope of
Nita's return, had, by some ironical
chance of fate, chosen that same night
| to set out for the mountain. AS he
slipped out of the shack he turned for
a half amused, half regretful, glance
behind him at the braided mat left I'M
finished on the floor, the rude crucifix
on the wall, and the poor contrivances
toward little creature-comforts devised
by Nita's deft hands; then slung his
knap-sack and started Off
Guided by the sounds that came in
| fitful gusts across the mesa, Jackson
| turned to the direction of the Hill of
Calvary. The tragedy was over. All
but one had reached the cross and re-
ceived dissolution for their sins.
| On the outskirts of the crowd a little
group bent above the form of the fallen
Penitente. With reverent fingers some
one removed the mask from her face,
and the Pickering light of the torches
revealed the agonized, distorted fea-
lures of Nita, fieet-footed, strong
limbed black-eyed Nita, no longer
beautiful, but torn and bleeding, in the
| hope Of expiating her sin in order that
she might be worthy to follow the
Gringo over the mountain; her features
emaciated almost past recognition, and
her countenance not stamped with the
seal of peace death often leaves.
With a quick glance Jackson saw that
Mia was dead. With another glance
into the faces before him he saw that
the sooner he was on the other side of
the mountain the better it would be
for him. The long months of banish-
ment he had undergone had been irk-
some to him, and he was heartily glad
tc be able to set away. He might still
be in time, he hoped to meet his party
somewhere near the line.
Exulting in the strength that came