The Silver Cross or The Carpenter of Nazareth Part 21

'Cursed be thou who told us that the good shepherd abandons his flock to find a single sheep that has strayed! we have strayed, and thou, the good shepherd, leave us in the hands of butchers.'

And these wretched men were not the only ones to insult the agony of Jesus; for, horrible as it is, and which Genevieve whilst writing this can hardly believe, Doctor Baruch, Jonas the banker, and Caiphus the high priest, joined the two thieves in a.s.sailing and outraging Jesus, at the moment he was about to render up his soul.

'Oh! Jesus of Nazareth! Jesus the Messiah! Jesus the prophet? Jesus, the Savior of the world!' said Caiphus: 'how was it you did not prophesy your own fate? Why did you not commence by saving yourself, you who were to save the world?'

'You call yourself the son of G.o.d, O Nazarene the divine!' added the banker Jonas: 'we will believe in your celestial power if you descend from your cross. We only ask of you this little prodigy! Come, son of G.o.d, descend! descend then! Ah! you prefer resting nailed on that beam, like a bird of night at a barn-door? Free thyself: you might be called Jesus the crucified, but never Jesus the son of G.o.d!'

'You appear to have much confidence in the Almighty!' added Doctor Baruch: 'call on him then to a.s.sist you! If he protects you, if you are really his son, why does he not thunder against us, your murderers? Why does he not change this cross into a bed of roses, from whence you could fly in a glory to heaven?'

The shouts and jests of the soldiers accompanied these disgraceful outrages of the pharisees; suddenly Genevieve saw Jesus stiffen in all his limbs, make a last effort to lift up his bleeding and wearied head to heaven: a last ray seemed to illumine his celestial expression; a heart-rending smile contracted his lips, and he murmured in a faint voice: 'My G.o.d! my G.o.d! take pity on me!'

His head then fell on his bosom, the friend of the poor and afflicted had ceased to live!

Genevieve knelt down and burst into tears. At this moment she heard a voice exclaim behind her:

'Ah! here is the fugitive slave! Ah! I was certain of finding her in the traces of this cursed Nazarene, on whom they have at length done justice. Seize her! bind her hands behind her back. Oh! this time my vengeance shall be terrible!'

Genevieve turned round and saw her master, the Seigneur Gremion.

'Now,' said Genevieve, 'I can die; since he, alas, who promised slaves to break their chains is dead.'

Although I had to endure the most cruel torments on the part of my master, I did not die, since I wrote this narrative for my husband Fergan.

After having thus recounted what I knew and what I had seen of the life and death of the young man of Nazareth, I would think it impious to speak of what has happened to myself from the sad day when I saw the friend of the poor and the afflicted expire on the cross. I will only say, taking as an example the resignation of Jesus on the cross, I will endure patiently the cruelties of Seigneur Gremion, from attachment to my mistress Aurelia; suffering all in order not to quit her; so that I remained the slave of Gremion's wife during the two years she was in Judea. Thanks to human ingrat.i.tude, six months after the death of the young man of Nazareth, his remembrance was effaced from the memory of man. A few of his disciples only preserved a pious recollection of him.

When after two years pa.s.sed in Judea with my mistress Aurelia, I returned amongst the Gauls, I found them still in slavery, as frightful, perhaps more so, than in times past.

I have added to this narrative, which I have written for my husband Fergan, a small silver cross, which was given me by Jane, wife of the Seigneur Chusa, a short time after the death of the young man of Nazareth. Some persons (and Jane amongst them), who preserved a pious respect for the memory of the friend of the afflicted, had some small crosses made in remembrance of the instrument of Jesus's death, and wore them or distributed them, after having deposited them on Mount Calvary, on the ground whereon the blood of Jesus had streamed.

I know not if I am to be one day a mother; if I have this happiness (is it a happiness for a slave to bring into the world other slaves?) I will add this little silver cross to the family relics which ought to transmit from generation to generation the history of the family of Joel, the brenn of the tribe of Karnak. May this little cross be the symbol of the enfranchising of the old and heroic Gallic race! May those words of Jesus be one day realized for the children of our children: 'The chains of the slave shall be broken!'

[The End.]