The Irish standard., 1908-02-29

Those were the words tho crouch
ing man had waited for. Many years
ago Il student in Catholic schools, he
knew that at these words tho eyes Of
The speaker were always uplifted to
his God. They were tho murderer's
cue; he knew that the priests eyes
would not be OH him, but would be
raised on high, piercing the roof Of
the church and the rapidly lighting
Sky, looking upon the throne of God,
the throne before which the spirit OF
the priest would stand but one moment
later.
No better time for Il cold -bloodcd as
s,,ssination; no better moment to nut
the bullet into the heart of one who
had devoted his entire life to the aid
and succor of tho poor and lowly, tho
defense of the weak and the upbuild-
ing of tho church on the altar Of which
he was TO lay down his life.
twenty centuries has the Catholic
faith existed; for 1000 years have
priests stood at the affairs OF the world
ana administered to all comers the
sacrament of the holy communion, but
never in the history or the church,
even in the bloody middle ages when
religious wars were rife, has such a
scene been enacted as Sunday morn
ing desecrated this pretty cathedral of
st. Elizabcth's. The annals of the
ages record no similar shocking event.
When Gabriele's revolver flashed the
priest reeled. staggered back aud from
the silver chalice in his hand fell part
OF the sacrament. The wounded man
leaned over TO pick it up, when 10
scph Miller, one of the choir boys roal-
izing even in his boyisi, mind that the
prcatc was wounded, bent above him
with the words:
He Died Martyr.
Father, you are shot, are you not?"
Grasping the friendly hand held out
TO him. the priest replied:
"of course, I am. my boy. / have
been badly wounded"
Those wore the last words of a great
and holy man.
Father Wuston Workman. whose
nlace Father Leo had consented to fill
on this Sunday morning. because the
tuary, laid the wounded man upon tho
floor of the church, placed a pillow for
his head and then in the very shadow
|of the Virgin Mary, beneath her out
stretched arms, before whose feet he
had SO often poured out his prayers
for his flock, the last sacrament was
administered.
Father Francis Leo Heinriclns was
dead--gone TO his last reward.
Even in the last moments of his life,
while his hcartbcats grew weaker and
his blood flowed even while his broth
er prelate repeated the last rites of the
church for those soon to be ushered in
to eternity, the good mans face broke
into a smile and there came the halt
SIdIIlIlcI IlS WOIUS Ol forgiveness
for the one who had killed him.
No panic seized the parishoners For
full ten seconds they stood awestrucll
and filled with horror at the bloody
deed. Then came the confusion
Leaping to his feet, brandishns his
revolver and shrieking unintelligible Z
oaths Gabrielle, the assassin. started
to fee from the church by the side
aisle, Immediately back of the altar,
where the murder had been done. E.
|J. Quigley, a Rio Grande conductor,
who was sitting few seats back from
the altar, was the first to reach the
murderer. Quiglcy would have gone
the way Of the murdered priest had it
not been for the assistance of Patrol
man Daniel Croniil, who was also at
tending mass, and who leaped over the
pews in his chase after the assassin,
and only reached him in time to