Fabiola : or, The church of the catacombs - Digital Repository Services

conduct. The doctor gave good hopes of his recovery ; he had
doubted certainly, in examining the wound, whether the
young man could have inflicted it on himself, but he did not
mention his suspicions.
When Yves left the house, he did so like one in a dream.
His hatred w .s gone but a ; dull, heavy weight was at his
heart ; thought and feeling seemed alike dead in him he was
;
hardly conscious of anything. The meadows were covered
with a white veil of mist the sun rose ; higher in the heavens ;
the birds began to chirp and sing ; all was fair and fresh and
pure ;
and he was a blot, a stain on the loveliness of the morn-
ing. In the distance a withered tree stretched one bare arm,
like a gallows, towards Saint Aubin du Cormier. He hurried
on. Before him, in the dust of the road, were large brown
stains.
" It is blood !" he muttered ; and staggered on with a shud-
der.
He was wearied with his sin, without having the strength to
string from her foot. There are terrible moments in which,
after sinking deeper and deeper into an abyss of misery and
despair, only one thing seems possible suicide.
Yves did not reason or reflect ; half unconsciously he made a
running knot in the cord ; he was stunned with suffering ; his
brother's blood was upon him. He had escaped the sentence
of the law ;
conscience judged him, and his own hand must be
his executioner. He managed to climb the tree high enough
to secure the cord to the great projecting branch. Then
he slowly unfastened his necktie, and hid his face one moment.
A hand was laid on his shoulder.
' ' A
man must not die before he has made his peace with
God." It was the voice of the Abbe" Kerdrec.
Yves fell on his knees.
"
It was here, was it not ? And you feel the need of expiation
? I understand ; and you are right only it is not for you
to choose the manner of expiation. Strike your breast, my
'
son, and say, God be merciful to me, the most miserable of
' "
sinners.
A sob burst from the wretched Yves.
"Father, forgive me," he said "Ihave sinned Imust die !
Aubin knows that I left him thinking him dead. My parents
know the truth, and you, father, you know it too. There are
voices in the air calling me Cain ! This tree seemed to have
tongue and it said it was a ; gibbet waiting for me . The blood
which stains the road cries aloud like that of Abel. God's brand
is on me, it will never be effaced a stain is on my soul which
nothing can cleanse. I hated Aubin because he was good and
beloved. And Armelle, how I have wronged her ! I made a
wicked bargain with Daniel ; I bribed him to give her to me.
I deserve death a thousand deaths !"
' I condemn you to something more terrible," said the priest;
" you must live !"
Yvc s bowed his head to the dust. It was a strange and solemn
sight ; the two men stood at the foot of the blasted tree, on the
very spot where the crime of the day before had been (Jommitted
; where a fresh one had been on the point of accomplish-
There was something awful in the silence which en-
It:-.' :!' it would never end. The AbbC Kerdroc
Till'! A7V.M W-Ct'TTl-Hi ',S !) A i 'Q I! Till!. 11
" God's hand is heavy upon ns," he said; "but it is the hand
of u Father. One word from Aubin, and we must have left the
country. Now, our shame and sorrow are a secret, exce,.t to
ourselves. All this we owe to Aubin. Ah, Marthe, Aubin
will make up for everything to us."
" And if he dies
" Then we must not grudge him to God."
In the course of the day the Abb6 Kerdrec came to console
them. His heart was filled with unutterable tenderness for
Aubin, who did not appear to see is not your own. It belongs henceforth to every one in trouble,
anything heroic in his own to every creature in danger of death. For the life which you
wickedly tried to take you owe God ten lives. Wherever there
repent. What he felt was a desire to be hidden, to be annihilated,
to disappear, even if it were into the lowest hell. A
low bleating struck his ear a white ;
goat had broken the cord
hich had fastened her to a tree, and was sporting near him
with her kids. Yves coaxed the creature to him, fed her with with your papers signed.
some bits of bread which was in his pocket, and untied the
was praying with clasped hands .md uplifted eyes, in a very
agony of supplication for light and grucii and pardon. At
length he spoke, again :
"Yves, are you sorry for your sins, your hatred,
crimes ?"
"lam, lam! Ask God to strike me dead here at your
feet."
" Yves, you shall live ; but you are not your own, your life
is peril, by fire, by blood, or any otlicr way, there is your
place. Do you understand me ? For your penance you shall
save ten lives the lives of ten men, women or children and
by the merits of the Precious Blood of Jesus, your guilt Hhull
be washed away, and remembered no more ; neither by your
earthly nor your heavenly Father."
A loud cry broke from Yves.
" Is it true," he said ; "ten lives to be saved, and then for
giveness from all !"
*' All. " The priest laid his hand on the forehead of Yves ....
" Now rise, and go ; you are reconciled with God. Complete
the work of penance ; obey your father, do as he bade you."
" I will ; but you know father, in time of war a ball may
strike me, and if I had not the number ?"
"Come to me before you start and I will answer that ques-
tion.''
"And Armelle?"
" You must get her father to consent to her marriage with
your brother."
" But the money ?"
" Ask your father for it. Now go to the town, and return
I will go to the farm."
The young man did not speak or move for a few minutes ;
then he burst suddenly into an agony of weeping, and sobbed
out :
"Aubin!"
"You shall see him before you go. I promise that you
shall."
Yves caught the hand of the priest, kissed it passionately,
and was gone in a moment.
1
It had been a wonderful inspiration of God that the Abbe
Kerdrec had laid on Yves Patriarche the work of expiation.
He felt that the same energy and force of character and passions
which had driven him into such terrible guilt and misery,
might, properly directed, make him by God's grace a Christian
hero. It was a stroke of genius; nay, shall we rather a. say
supernatural illumination ? It was one of those sublime ideas
which so often originate with the humblest priests. The
world passes such a one by, with a careless and supercilious
glance at the worn face, the feeble hands, the frayed cassock;
but God and all great souls know what is in him.
The Abb6 Kerdrec diJ justice to the grand old Breton farmer
in feeling sure that the money queotion would be no diffi-
culty.
He said simply :
"We must not expect any softening on the part of the
straw-cutter. We must wait God's time. There was a mar-
riage in contemplation to which his consent had been pain?d
by a promise of four thousand francs. Will you buy Aubin's
happiness at that "
price ?
And Patriarche said to Marthe :
" You have the key, wife; give the money to M. le Cur6."
So the matter was settled.
Next morning the straw-cutter and his daughter were on
their way to the farm. He had dressed himself with unusual
care, and tried to assume the air of a careless bonhomie, which
but ill disguised the shame which he really felt. He talked
and jested with Armelle in a forced unnatural manner; but she,
dear child, answered with the utmost sweetness. There was
almost as much sadness as joy in her heart, but no bitterness ;
when God was smoothing the way before her, was it for her to
remember the stones and brambles which once were there ?
At the farm everything was strangely quiet. The servants