The Story and Song of Black Roderick Part 7

"And why doth thou fear death for him," said the Virgin Mary, "since it may bring to him the happiness of heaven?"

"Alas!" said the little bride, "were it thus, his cries would not hurt my heart so that I cannot hear the song of the angels. I fear he is lost forever."

"And what canst thou do, little soul," said the Blessed Mary, "to save him if he cannot save himself?"

"I can be with him in his destruction."

Now, as the little soul said this terrible thing she fell forward upon her face, so afraid was she and so despairing.

"I can stand between him and the flames," said she, "and hold my hand beneath the burning waters that would fall upon his body."

And then she lay silent.

Then the Virgin looked upon her with eyes that were all pitiful and had much understanding.

"Thou wilt suffer," saith she, as though remembering something, "to walk by his side and see his anguish, but thou wouldst suffer more wert thou forbidden this."

So Mary rose from her high place and went towards the high throne of heaven, and as she pa.s.sed the whirling wings of the seraphim and cherubim ceased to circle, but flew towards her from the throne. And to the little bride, who crouched afraid on the fragrant floor, it seemed as though a great wonder of bees had settled on some hidden sweet; countless wings glistened and flashed in the strange light that glowed from the opening flowers that formed the floor about the throne.

In and out, striking together in their eagerness to get nearer their desire, went the countless wings of the angel hosts.

And from the throne all the time there came forth a low singing like the humming of bees. As the little bride listened there came to her ears the voice of the Virgin praying for her before the throne of G.o.d, and in the pauses of the prayer the countless voices of the fluttering seraphim and cherubim took up the refrain, "Hear us, O Christ."

Now suddenly all sound ceased, and the fluttering wings moved aside, and from their midst strode out a mighty angel of the Lord; and when he came upon the frightened soul of the little bride he took her by the hand, and, leading her to the gates of heaven, opened them that she might go forth.

But ere she could pa.s.s out he said, with great sadness:

"Thy little hands and feet are soft with the fragrant places of heaven; much wilt thou suffer if thou goest forth."

And again he said:

"How canst thou leave the beauty and love of paradise, wherein thou mayst enter no more save thou art strong enough to conquer great dangers?"

But the little soul listened not to him, but pa.s.sed through the gates in eager hurry. And as she went the angel followed her with his gaze; and so great was his pity--for he thought she might not re-enter the kingdom of heaven--that tears fell from his eyes upon her hand. Now, when the little bride went forth from the gates of heaven a chill wind blew upon her, so she wellnigh fell upon the earth in anguish; but she took the two tears that had fallen from the angel's eyes and hid them in her heart, and she became warm, and the sharp earth did not hurt her feet, nor did the wind of the cold world harm her.

Now, when the spirit of the little bride came to the gates of the castle wherein dwelt Black Roderick, she saw the great changes that had come to pa.s.s therein, for the day that had fallen to her in paradise was as seven years on earth.

With her death had come strife and disunion among the clans, and now at the walls stood the soldiers of her father, and within on his death-bed the Black Earl who was dying, a prisoner in their hands.

And as the little bride came to the gates of the garden without the courtyard, she saw before them a strange and horrible coach. And the only light that came from this dark carriage was from the red eyes of the six horses who drew it, and their trappings swept the ground, black and mouldy. Now, the body of this coach was shaped like a coffin, and at the head sat the driver.

When the little bride gazed upon him in wonder who he could be, she saw through the misty winding-sheet that enfolded him a death's head. But when she looked at him who sat at the foot of the coffin, she hid her face, for it was an evil creature who crouched here.

Now, as the little bride paused at the gate of the garden a voice came from inside, and said:

"Wherefore comest thou?"

And he who sat at the foot of the coffin answered:

"Open, for I claim the soul of Black Roderick."

And the voice that was within answered:

"Thou shalt come, for his cruelty hath driven my young daughter to her grave, wherein she lieth while the birds sing, and the flowers blossom, and the earth is glad with youth and spring."

So he dropped the bolt and the door swung open, so the coach and its six horses entered.

Now, when the driver reached the door of the court-yard, he found it closed against him, and he drew his coach up beside it and called in a hollow voice for entrance.

And one cried from inside:

"Wherefore comest thou?"

And he who was inside answered:

"I claim the soul of Black Roderick."

And the voice replied:

"Willingly do I open, for he hath slain my sweet sister with his chill heart and cruel ways, so she lieth in the dark earth who was the sunshine of our house."

Then the door swung open so the black coach and its six horses could enter.

Again the strange coach drove on, till it came to the castle door, and there the evil being who was inside cast himself upon the ground, and, going to the door, knocked thereon three times, and a woman's voice answered, saying:

"Who art thou?"

And the evil one replied:

"I am he who claims the soul of Black Roderick."

And the woman said:

"Welcome thou art, then, for he hath destroyed my heart's treasure and buried it in the ground; so I go sorrowing all my days for the suffering he caused her on earth, and for her young and unready death."

Then the bolts and the bars fell from the door with a great noise, and the evil thing entered the castle.

Now, as Black Roderick lay upon his death-bed tossing and turning in his fever, there rushed unto him one of the serving-men in a great terror and fear.

And of what they spoke together shall I sing thee, lest thou grow weary of my prose:

_There is one at the door, O my master, At the door, who is bidding you come!

Who is he that wakes me in the darkness, Calling when all the world's dumb?_

_Six horses has he to his carriage, Six horses blacker than the night; And their twelve red eyes in the shadows Twelve lamps he carries for his light._

_And his coach is a coffin black and mouldy, A huge oak coffin open wide; He asks for your soul, G.o.d have mercy!

Who is calling at the door outside._