Nicanor - Teller of Tales Part 44

"Daughter, thou sayest thou art glad he hath not gone to G.o.d. Loving him, wouldst thou not rather think of him with G.o.d than wandering lonely in the outer darkness?"

But Eldris flung out her hands with a bitter cry.

"Nay--nay--oh, Lord Christ, not that! I cannot bear to think he wanders lonely, as all his life he hath been lonely--anything but that! What have I said--what have I done! Oh, father, father, he must not be lonely! Pray thou that G.o.d will take him, even though he did not know!

Dear G.o.d, let him into heaven--do not Thou be angered because he did not know! Mary Mother, pity him and let him not be lonely any more!"

She stretched her hands in desolate appeal over the still face at her knee. Father Ambrose gathered them into his.

"G.o.d hath taken him, dear child," he said gently. "Out of his darkness hath he entered into light; and I think that it is well with him."

A long time he looked down at the face that smiled in answer; at the long lithe limbs whose strength was dust. From his basket he took a cup, and went aside and filled it with water from the river, and offered it to G.o.d. Returning, he knelt, and with the water signed the cross on the pale forehead and the broad pulseless breast.

"So sign I and seal I thee with the Cross of Christ, that in His mercy thy Lord may receive thy soul. 'Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.'" He raised his hand, and Eldris dropped her face to the rough black hair and sobbed. "The Lord bless thee and keep thee. The Lord make His face shine upon thee and be gracious unto thee. The Lord lift up His countenance upon thee and give thee peace."

His gentle voice ceased, and a moment the earth hung silent, awaiting the mystery of the dawn. Then the red misty sun shot up over the hills on the east of Thorney, and the bright new day was come.

THE END