San Antonio light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1911-1993, 1926-01-10

Island stems flood.
Sidonia walked slowly. Her
body was numbed and lightsome
it did not obey her as readily as it
should, it did not seem fully to
belong to her. She was aware of
no fatigue, nor of any hurts of the
flesh, though from head to heel
she was as much bruised as if she
had been beaten. She had sem
sation of looking down upon her
self from height. How small she
was, there, between the two cord
muscled men, and the housewalls
that rose up to thatch and swal-
lows nests. Her straight, coarse
smock was open at the breast,
partially revealing the spring-like
bosom. Her uncombed hair fell
about her shoulders.
Her face had a famine-look, and
yet was serene as a dead child's,
the gaze of the eyes fixed straight
ahead. Yes, she saw all this con-
corning herself as though she were
her own spectator. She even, in
an impersonal way, felt pity for
herself. Fire was grievous
death for a girl of sixteen years.
Fire was torture-a thing at which
the senses shrieked and shrank.
Something in this girl who was
herself should be grovelling, de-
mented. Poor creature! "For this
was | born; for this came | into
the world" The rhythm of exis-
tence, unhindered now by any
struggle of the soul, pulsed
through her.
Winter and Summer, death and
life, night and day. Alternating
shadows and rainbows above the
lily-fowers that drew their magical
beauties from the slime. She was
extraordinarily happy, and a song
of joy came dropping downward,
lark-fashion, from the radiant
height where the white, haloed
bird lowered. 1t was wonderful
to know that nothing could really
hurt her, nothing! She was above
it all.
"Look at the eyes of her.
Pray God she doesn't turn them
this way! They should have
blinded her and torn out her
tongue before they brought her
into the open. She'll put the evil
look on US yes, and curse the
whole town as soon as she feels
the fire."
"She walks like a, woman ] once
saw who had a stran;e spirit in
her, and used to go abroad in her
sleep"
"She's possessed. Her familiar
will jump out of her mouth in the
shape. of a red mouse or a toad
when she begins to burn"
"Devil-brat! Devil-bratw piped
up a small child, and its mother
slapped it briskly. "Do you want
the wi oh to change you into a
hedgehog?" she said in a sharp
whisper. "You hold your tongue,
or III take you indoors, and you
shan't see the big fire.
"Devil-brat! Devil-bratw How
far away the little shrill voice
seemed. They had called out such
words on the morning when the
young lord entered the town. That
was two days ago. She had re-
nounced him, and he was with her
oh, always! She was happier
than she had believed it possible>
for any creature to be.
keep back! Keep backp'
Soldiers with pixies were en-
deavoring to maintain clear
way to the middle of the market
square, where was the newly
planted stake, the faggots and the
chains. The open space seethed
with people, all crazy to see. There
was savage jostling; women with
infants were wedged between
bearded, sweating men, and aged
persons, trying to claw a way
through, became querulous or
seized with palpitations.
One of the wheeled stages upon
which miracle plays were per
formed in public at Easter-time
had been drawn well forward to
command a view of the stake. II
was set out with cushioned seats
and footstools, and there, in a
semi-circle, were the towns nota-
bles, an abbot or two, the heads Of
the guilds, wearing gold chains
and finger rings of fine workman
ship, and at the centre Of the form
al half-circle, on higher seat, Sa-
bine, the widowed Countess.
She was vested in black, her
head nun-like with its wide
winged crown Of starched linen.
The fingers of her clasped hands
were entrusted with the gold and
silver beads. She did not appear
paler than usual, but leld herself
with a meek dignity, quiet and
slow-breathing, thai seemed
mutely to reproach Heaven for the
Unmerited, unparalleled thingsI
that had befallen her.
"The saints comfort the Coun-
tessw said an old woman to her
neighbor. "There's her man dead |
and her stepson bewitched, and she |
so calm"
"Such doingsp said the neigh |
Dor, the mother of many. "They .
say the Cathedral was full Of I
devils last night. A widower who +.
lodges in our street was there, and F.
a friend of his sister told me what
he saw. A thing with great ears