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

vamblfa on tbo cliff*. One f'" C wvcr, not
quite BO ignorant oi' Aguese's sher
arid around her, even -\vhcn the child alone;
mill sometimes a light step iu tin' grass, or u nigh, or a loin;
drawn breath, almost betrayed the presence of this invisible
guardian. This had occurri'd HO frequently of l.ito, that by
with her
Ill-J:\li ,U,'.v/.;,s7,'
degrees a kind of mysterious awe began t mingle
musings ; ^hc never felt as if she was quite alone. It was always
as though a spirit were lingering near ; and one evening
(it surely could uot have been her fancy; she even imagined u
sweet low voice; pronounced hur naui. 1
:
'
Aguese !"
:
Trernblhig violently, she stai r feet, but no answer
was returned to her eager questions, only she thought she
heard a. Deeper sigh, and then a receding footstep, and then
nil was once more silent as the grave. Aguese sat down again,
for she felt she could not stand, and her heart throbbed so
wildly that bhe almost fancied she could hear it beating ; a
few minutes afterwards she was once more startled by the
sound of her own name, but this time it was Lady Oraumore,
olic is made equally at home hi the observances of his religion,
whether he attends them in the wigwam of the savage Indian
or the cathedral of the civilized European. It waa not the
turning-point at which the happiness or misery of an eternity
is decided.
" What will Lady Oranmore say ? -what will the people
think?" It was so her human nature questioned: and iu
truth it required something of the faith and courage of a m;utyr
to brave the scrutiny of the hundred eyes that would be
fixed upon her if she attempted to leave the church. But it
must be done no Latin Mass, 110 lamp. Jesus was neither in
the church nor of it, and not another instant might the Little
Bride of the Blessed Sacrament kneel before an altar wh i-e
He was not. One prayer to Him one word to Perletta, and,
before Lady Oraumore could interpose to prevent it, the pew
door was unfastened, and the long length of the church traver:-cd
with a steady heart, although it must be acknowle
most uncertain footstep. Up to this point Aguese had managed
to restrain herself to a walk; but no sooner had she
'
1 the portals of the building, than, yielding to the fear of
; pursued, she shook the ribbon round 1'ei i'
and set oil' at a rapid pace towards her Buuuuur seat upon the
TVi-'-, r:is(i>i'.; litr
, however,
in her dn .
,1' th -
morning waa
no!, absent from her im:murmured
half aloud: " JesuH is not here; where is He,
my God, my God, where is He?" ",!
said a sweet, low voice in her ear. Agn
ing at first the wor.ls to lie only a portion of 1
But now she was wide awake, and still the plaintivi
'
that voice was heard. "Time was that i
der church was His house and home. I
,
<
have defiled that sanctuary, and saci
turned the altar, and now the thistle and wild i
the fox has made for itself a home, even her :
win re 11
dwelt in the very sacrament of His love for man."
" Where am I ? where am I ? " said Aguese, scare
believe her own ear , and tempted to fane is again iu
Italy, or dreaming of it, so familiar were the thoughts of the
invisable speaker, and so familiar the soft Itali.n iu
who came to tell her that the next day, being Sunday, she
would take her if she liked, to divine service at the church
of Oraumore. Agnese listened, but she was not glait, and she
thanked her, but it was mechanically. There was no real joy
in her words and feelings. Sho did not feel sure Lady Oraumore
was a Catholic, and it was therefore with depressed
spirits and trembling heart that she prepared the next morning
to accompany her to church.
If ever our angel-guardians give warning of the presence of
r, as I devoutly believe they often do, by their secret
inspirations, to the innocently unconscious, Aguese received
such a warning in the hour when she stepped over the threshold
of that church. She felt as if the very air were too heavy
for her breathing. The service had commenced already, she
paused for a moment, in hopes of catching those dear, familiar
sounds to which she had listened from her childhood, until it
almost seemed as if she understood them by mere force of intimacy
with their terms. Alas ! the those thoughts were uttered. "Where are y-uV"
language that now met
her ear was not the language of the Mass, by which the Cath-
returned
the
"
voice. In the churchyard of lone St. Bride's on the very
spot where, if tradition U 11s the truth, St. Patrick built his
first altar, and said his first Mass in the land of Erin." *
" Then I am close to the church of Jesus, and I knew it
not," said the wondering child.
" To what was once the church of Jesus. The church is
now in ruins; and they who have made it so have run a public
road right among the tombs of the desecrated dead. Well !
well ! nature has been more considerate than man, as th
she ever is in this land, and so shs has made the holy r
place of our fathers beautiful in flowers, some of the paleblossoms
she has garnered here even vieing, methiuks, iu
beauty with the fairest that you know of in your own fair
land."
Aguese WP.S too much lost in astonishment to answer ; and
after a moment's pause, the invisible went on :
"Would that you could sea them ! The crowds of prim
the clusters of white roses ; the delicate little harebell ; the
wood anemone ; and that other, the wild sorrel the fairest
flower that grows, to my mind '
lady-flower,' I would name it,
if I had my way; it is so fragile and so fair that it looks like to
language of the Mass, and the words of Francesco dashed upon
her memory.
"No ! no ! not here !" she said, quick as lightning, resisting
the hand which urged her into the well-cushioned pew of
the Oraumore "
family. Under the lamp ! uuiier the lamp !
It is there I ever pray the best
"
!" There is no lamp here,"
Mary,
said Lady Oranmore, thrown off her guard by the suddenness of
the request, and closing the door of the pew, into which she
had now drawn her grand :hild almost by force. Aguese heard,
and for one brief instant there was a struggle sucu. as seldom
occurs more than once in the life of a human being, but which,
sometimes earlier, sometimes later, is almost sure, not only to
come at last, but to be made, farofteuer than we imagine, the
and ought to be called after her. There, I h :\
some of each for you, and they shall be to you as a relic of this
holy spot, where (so the poor people say) no worm or or
thing is ever found, to detile the slumbers of the dead below,
or to mar the beauties of the flowers above."
" Come hither," said Aguese; " I am blind, and I camn
but if you are not the guardian spirit of th< .come
hither, and take my hand iu yours and lay my head i:pon your
bosom, and speak to me of Jesus. Never have I he
speak of Him as you do, since the day I left the land wk
is everywhere, and everywhere people love Him."
Agnese felt the unknown draw near; and the ham
laid on hers was email, and soft, and delicate, evidently the
hand of a girl, and a very young girl too.
"
Neither a spirit, nor yet of Italy, am I," the voice replied;
"although I use its language."
"Not of Italy !" said the blind
know not of its churches, where
child, srdly. "Then yon
the lamp ever where Jesus ever dwells."
burns, and
"Do I not ?" said the voice, with a sudden quickness. "To
:
what purpose, then, have I listened so often :
that fair laud, and of one sweet saint who sleeps ami
flowers ?"
There was something inexpressibly mournful iu its tones, as
it added, alter a moment's paiiM :
" My child, no blood of Italy is flowing through these
yet I have dreamed of it so often that it seems to me as if the
kingdoms of the earth were set in array bet ore mo I could
choose it out among all the rest; and oh ! believe me, i
choose the fairest."
"And the holiest," said Ague ,
* Tradition in the uorlii