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

And May long remembered afterwards how Hi-' rihili
unconsciously laid her hand on her heart, in concluding the
sentence :
" It isas if He Himself wero stealing away my life."
May made no answer ; she was weeping liittc rly.
" May, " said Agnese, after a silence of some minutes, " what
are you doing ?"
"Making a wreath of white roses for the novice whose
clothing takes place next week at the Convent of the Perpetual
Ail oration."
" May, could you not make another for her, and give
me that one ?"
" You shall have it, dearest."
" And May," continued Aguese, feebly, " I wish you would
change my dress, and put on me the one I wore, when He came
to me for the first time." May put aside the roses, which were
all besprinkled wi'hher tears; and she had soon wrapt her
sister in the spotless folds of a white muslin wrapping-dress,
and parted her soft, shining hair upon her brow, and smoothed
the long curls upon either side ; but when wan about to crown
them with her white 'roses, Agnese put aside the -wreath and
said :
"
Not just yet, dearest May, wait until He comes to take me
away, for then I would be dressed as a bride, indeed, and
brides always wears a wreath of flowers, Benita says. Ah !
man carried her as nearly as he could to the altar up n which
the Blessed Sacrament reposed.
There she knelt down she would kneel down, she said, i:s
it was for the last time. So May knelt down beside her, and
thought she, "and so it is no nudier." Something,
indeed, seemed to say to her that there was no hope,
and that the child was dying fast. Suddenly ehe felt her sinking
from her grasp; it was at the very instant when the Benediction
of th aient was given, and wi Ih :i calm
courage that afterwards seemed strange to her, she. put both
her arms round the living child and clasped her tightly to her
i, until that sweet and solemn blessing had
I not have deprived Agnese of 11',
juient. When it was over, she made a sign
to Francesco, who soon saw how the matter stood, and OS
. the
O|M n air.
" .Is she dead?" wliispi red Ma.. , turning in 1
31
i man for comfort.
" No," ho replied in the samo tone, " but I greatly fear me
she is dying.
" What shall I do? The movement of i "' will kill
her outright. Look up, my own darling for God's sake, look
up," said May, sitting down upon the c.hnreli steps, and re-
ceiving her dying Bister from Francesco's ai
"
If the siguora does not mind," said Frr.
cottage close at hand, where, I live it is but a ;
poor place, but
I could easily carry her so far."
"Oh, never mind about that," said May, impatiently; "let
us carry her there at once, and then I will go and ietch my
grandmother."
Agnese had by this time opened her eyes, and a bright
smile passed over her face as she listened to this little
venation.
"
Yes, yes," she whispered, "the poorer th- For
He was poor, and had no place whereon to lay His head." She
looked yet more pleased when they carried her into the little
room, and she heard Francesco saying to her sister :
" The signora must excuse my poverty ; yonder heap of
Indian straw is all the bed I have to offer to her winter."
May, however, could not resist a sigh, while siie smoothed
here is Francesco," she added, with a happy smile, as her ear
caught the sound of the old man's footsteps on the corridor
without.
* * * *
The poor children lingering near the church of the Blessed
Sacrament crowded around Aguese, as Francesco lifted her
from the carriage. Many of them had known, and loved, and
reverenctd her, even as a poor blind c. ild and ; now, in her
better fortunes it was one of Agnese's sweetest pleasures to repay
their former kindness by a thousand little generosities, as
well as by the tenderest interest iu nil that concerned them.
No wonder, therefore, they now crowded round her, saying to
each other, in tht ir great delight at hvr reappearance among
them "It is Blind Agnese how ; glad I am she is not too
weak to come and now that she is once in the ;
open air again,
our sposina will grow as strong as she was before the foreign
lady took her to that cold laud, where the sun, she says, never
shines so brightly as it shines on us."
"You must pray for me very much to-night, dear little
ones," said Agnese, pausing ere she ascended the steps of the
church, in order to distribute her presents among them.
" Tnese are the last gifts I shall ever bring you."
Francesco took her in his arms, and carried her into the
church, for she was too weak to walk BO far.
"Where Columba died, there let me pray for the last time,"
she whispered ; and, in compliance with the down the poor couch, acd covered it over as well as she could
with a velvet mantle which Francesco brought up from the
carriage. Upon
wish, the kind old
this they laid Aguese; but the child looked
distressed, and tears rushed into her eyes.
" W. at is it, my own darling?'' asked May, her quick eye
detecting in an instant the emotion of her sis
" He died upon a cross; and would you have me go to Him
on velvet ?" whispered the child; for she hud detected in
slant the soft nature of the material upon which she was
lying.
To many this might have seemed childlike and of little
meaning, but happily May could comprehend the I
which made this child, who in her life had been so
her divino Lord, anxious to resemble Him even in His
death. She made a sign, therefore, to France;
once more raised Aguese, she gently removed
tie, so little in union with the poor bed it covered. Th
looked pleased at this new arrangement but ; .;
her down agaiia, some other thought appeared to strike her,
and she asked in what direction stood the church.
"
It is just behind," Francesco answered, wondering a little
at the question.
"Dearest May," she said imploringly, ".could you not put
mo the other way, with rny face towards the church ?"
" For what purpose, dear one? It will <
n, and
God knows you are ill and weak enough already."
"To what purpose ! O
May, how e i. ? That I may
turn my sig"lie:
-seT.es towards Ilii)! that His ar
lovi-.igly upon me. Thank you, thank;. May,"
she added, as her sister silent y re-arranged hr pillow in the
put her arm round her waist. She had ; grown , that
without this assistance she could not have knelt upright. The
service began, and May felt Agn every moment more
heavily upon her, as if every moment she lost more and more
the power of self-support. Once or twice she whispered
"
"You are weary, darling but the child did not seem to ;
hear
her, and i
May desisted, for she did not like to disturb
her more than was needful. "It is for the h-.st II
:n in which she wished it to 1 ,
I .eel that I am dying at His i.
"
AYili you stay and watch her V" said May, with
suppressing
di!V
h r heavy sobs.
. "
I must go nii.i bre
to her grandmother. I dare not trust it to th.
quaint her with such sorrow.
Francesco williu :ly undertook the office, and
back rapidly to Naples. Lady Oranmoiv
herself to would
story, but she co:;ldnot bring I
1: ihis ne, s
1 be soon over as was apprehended by May, ami tho
latter had not the heart to argue the matter with h'T.
will know it soon enough," thought she ; and wi.
" She
tin" arrival of the physicians who had been summoned to at-
tend, she left her grandmother, an I \
fr.llv in that room which .'
which she felt the child would IUY
. Here the half-friibhed M: