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

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{,'rii'f so as not to heighten the pain of bin sad companion.
"
Undoubtedly our dear mother is in great danger," lie con-
"
Believe me, clear sister, I
tinued, after n moment's silence.
share your grief; but I don't know why I haven't yet lost
nil hope. First of all that holy unction that the priest, in his
solicitude, gave her yesterday, and that Holy Communion that
fortified her body and gladdened her soul to-day, may they not
bring her precious solace and powerful succor ?"
" Assuredly, Joseph. Only wouldn't it be rash on our part
to hope for a miracle ? And it would indeed be a miracle if
she were preserved to ias, if she were restored to health. The
doctor says so, brother."
"Assuredly, my poor sister. But here we are approaching
the place where they invoke her who is justly named the
Health of the Wei.k and the Comforter of the Afflicted. Let
us fearlessly address to her our most fervent prayers, and, be-
Talking thus, the pious children stopped before the chapel
of the Immaculate Virgin, and, kneeling on the wooden seat
outside, began to pray in profound silence. For the health of
their sick mother they invoked that
parable Mother of men and of God.
other Mother, the incom-
During all that month of sunshine and roses blessed mouth
consecrated to the Queen of Heaven their pure and fervent
prayers were breathed forth at the foot of the altar of that
Blessed Mother. Now the sun was about to set, and the first
shades of the evening were slowly descending over the plain ;
yet their fervor was even increasing, their zeal abated not; and
they still remained kneeling in silence near the threshold,
Mary's prayer, for the last vague far-off sound had scarcely
died away in the air when she turned towards her brother continually
buried in a mysterious reverie.
"My good Joseph,
just now implored the Virgin Mother ?"
"For whom yon have prayed ? For our mother, no doubt!"
" Certainly; but I have addressed other supplications also to
the Queen of Heaven and her Divine Son. Oh! my dear sister,
are we not at least I sometimes tliink so too exclusive, too
selfish in all our earthly preoccupations and griefs '? For you
know we have another mother too, the holy Church of Christ,
for whom we shall have good reason to wuep, and perhaps
tremble. However, I know well this mother cannot perish;
but she may have to undergo very cruel trials, very bitter sufferings;
and at this moment, for instance, t > what dangers is
she not exposed in the person of her visible chief, our first
pastor ?"
"
It is but too true, Joseph; only what shall wo do, what can
we do, poor children that we are ! We can only offer the
Church our prayers and our tears. Besides, has not the Lord
promised to watch over His eternal spouse to the end of a
and will lie not save her from the attacks and insults of hell
were He Himself, to that end, to multiply miracles ?"
"
Assuredly the Lord sees and measures the sufferings of
His Church. Aud, when the hour of His vengeance
shall at
length have come, He will give her victory and confound her
enemies. But He also asks and it is only justice, sister
that creatures shall aid Him by their submission, by their
efforts; and it is only very rarely, you know, He has
to miracles."
recourue
" I know, dear Joseph; only why, at this single thought of
the perils and sufferings of the Church, do you let yourself bo
overcome with such bitter grief, when you
"
it ?
have only your
lieve me, sister, even if it is a miracle wo ask, it will not be the
first obtained by the Queen of Heaven in favor of filial love, of
all love the humblest and the purest. Let us pray, then, I
repeat, with love, courage, and confidence, for something tells
me we will be heard. The omnipotent God, who, when He
pleases, opens the prayers
abyss of the tomb under His creature's
foot-steps, can He not also snatch them from it if such is His
will ?"
to give
"Nothing but my prayers, do you say, dear Bister? Ah ! do
they give nothing else, those devoted men, those heroic youth
our Belgium has produced, or those who abandon their beautiful
countries, France and Ireland, and many other Catholic
lands, too, to defend the common Father of the faithful
against the avidity of usurpers or the hatred of His enemies ?
They know how to iind, at need, other arms besides prayers
and tears ; they joyfully place their blood, their lives, at the
feet of the Sovereign Pontiff, and would joyfully die to save
him if Providence required it. Yes, sister, those generous
volunteers may at length succumb to the superiority of numbers;
but they will fall without a groan, well knowing that
the laud will not be bedewed in vain by their innocent blood.
The voice of their blood, Mary, will be their voice and their
prayer, much more powerful, much more glorious too, than
the greatest victory acquired by force of arms. "
"
My good Joseph, your words are generous and noble, but
offering the Lord their tears and prayers for the health of that
tender mother.
And the last rays of the sun had faded away; and night had
come. The distant sounds of the Angelus, borne on the
breeze, floated melodiously over the plain, inviting the laborers
still occupied at that hour in the silent field, to salute the
Immaculate Mother with a prayer and an expression of love
before returning to their rustic dwellings to repose after the
day's labors.
The sweet tinkling of the they
Ange'us had probably interrupted
make me tremble. Would you leave our poor mother at
this time. Would you leave your sister; an orphan and alone,
thinking of your hard-hearteduess, and weeping over her
tomb ? "
"
I do not say that such indeed may be my resolution, dear
sister; still, I confess, I cannot forbear envying the glorious
destiny of those brave fellows who try with such ardor to tlio
martyr's death. The thought of them inflames my heurt; I
burn with the desire of following their example. And yet
Providence has marked out my place here beside my sick
mother's pillow, and nothing less tuan that sacred duty of unbounded
devotion and filial love would hinder me from flying
to the succor of that other dear mother. When I was at col-
lege I used to read hundreds of times those eloquent words,
Dulce et decorum cat pro patria morl. Oh !
how much more
mother.
it is time we should return to our
"
The young man shuddered at these words as if he had started
up from a dream, although his calm, serious face still preserved
the expression of prayer and recollectedness.
"
Brother," continued the young girl, who looked at him with
a
"
surprised air, how beneficent, how incomprehensible, indeed,
is the power of prayer ! I honorable and sweeter it must be to die for
"
Church of God !
the faith, for the
begin to feel calmness and
confidence revive within me; and you seem to me even more reassured,
more tranquil, than when we came here."
"
It is true, dear sister; but do you know for whom I have
Poor Mary, incapable of sharing those heroic transports,
was content to keep a deep and painful silence. Joseph, fearing
to disquiet her by his desire of communicating to her a
little of that generous ardor, said no more, and retraced, by
her side, the way to the village. They were not long in reaching
the first whitewashed cottages of the little town of Sehrambeck.
There they met Teresa, the old crippled beggar-woman,
who, stretching out her hand to receive the destined alms,
eagerly availed of this opportunity to wish them good eve-
ning, although she scrupled to disturb their painful reverie.
" How is your mother ?" she asked in a really sympathetic,
anxious tone.
"HI, oh ! very ill, my poor Teresa. I beg you won't forget
her in your prayers."
" My good Monsieur Joseph, how could I forget her ? Who
then helped me when all had abandoned me? Who then
nourished and clad me during that rigorous winter ? No, no !
Believe me, the poor old cripple will never be ungrateful.
May God protect you, my poor children, and bless your excel-
"
lent mother, too.