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

vil'Xl son ; you'll return lo Clod to that (!od
of for;: ad Jove, whom you
the days of your youth. For a voice upeaks iu my
.1 : S:\ntiFiri:
have loved nud served iu
heart rind
kella me to hope ; henceforth, consoled and sustained by tlmt
divino hope, I can joyfully return to my heavenly country.
Then, dear father, my victorious nud happy
soul will cou-
, follow you, us well iis my belovid mother, so
ment, and aroused his indignation against the invaders of the
Church's patrimony.
" The traitors, the cowards ! They don't blush to go into
the fight tea against one !" he cried, striking with his clenched
fist the paper containing Cialdini's manifesto, which he had
spread out before him on the table.
" And those usurpers,
tho-e traitors, have the signal audacity, too, to insult my noble
Victor and his innocent cotnptnious, whom they treat as 'brigands,'
' ' drunken foreigners.' whom the love of gold and the
thirst of booty have brought into Italy.' Shame on those
calumniators, shame on those fools who thus outrage an assemblage
o devoted, courageous, heroic young men !"
And the unhappy old man, in his indignation, hast
?
ly seized
the paper and tore it in pieces, after which, leaning sadly on,
the table, he sighed.
"
Victor, O my Victor," he murmured, " hope of my old age,
honor of my house, alas! what is to become of you? shall I
see you p.gain ?"
From that moment there was no more repose for that afflicted
" O proud, vain reason, which affords no tolace to my
t heart, Imt faith in a ferocious necessity a blind instinct
equally governing the most illustrious men and the com-
'
animal i !" he murmured, with a mournful "
sigh. Oh !
how much snbiimer, sweeter, and more consoling are the
words of Mary'^ bo k !"
the lic-lds, n >
(lifso words, he rose, his forehead burning, his
'Ppressed. All the rest of the day ho \vandeml aSout
rest anywhere for his bruised feet, no consolation
illt-J grief.
From the, day the papers communicated the fatal in ws to the
ladies, they repaired every evening to the Chapel of Consola-
tion. They)] VIT failed to meet T rasa, tin' boggar-woma ,
and the three poor mothers, anxious but trustful,
ber prayei L to I
t : wo brave
r the safety of their children.
i culm,
courageous, aud resigned.
Carefully dissembling their grief, they always knew how to
find words of hope? to keep up poor Morreu's sinking courage,
or dry this good and affectionate Mary's tears.
Mary seemed to grow yet more uneasy nnd suffer
ico lively, laughing, joyous child had lost her gaiety, < n-
-ra, and vigor. Retiring into her little room every ev u-
ing, she passed long hours on her knees praying to Mary
Immaculate. Then, when shr :i,ioutof her sleep at
i Bathed in a cold perspiration and choked with i
under the influence of somo horrible dream, she, again prostrate
d herself boforo the sacred image of the Queen of
Angels, and again sought courage and consolation in prayer.
One night a'no was so terrified that she sought refuge in her
mother's rjoin. Madame Van 1 r prjtracted and dis-
foinily and justly cherished then our transient ;
separation will
have lost all its bitterness and severity, and will bo followed
by the never-ending joys and delights of an eterial re-union.
And in that s\vtet hope, adieu, adieu, fond father, beloved
mother. Your Victor."
As Victor anticipated, the papers had published details of
the I'ledmontese invasion, and, at the news of this sacrilegious
i, nil loyal souls and generous hearts in every European
home were transported with indignation.
M. Morren, from the very first, was greatly irritated.
" The misfortune I foresaw has at length occurred ! O unhappy
child ! How could he have allowed himself to be overcome
to be carried away by such a folly ? And I, blind, senseless
father !" lie continued, beating his forehead in his angry
transports "why was I so weak as to let him go ?"
.Nevertheless, at that moment all his paternal affection
awakening in his tressing sleeplessness, had at length fallen into a slumber.
"
Mary, my dear child, what has happened to you?"
heart, dispelled the bitterness of his resent-
she
asked, somewhat star. led at this sudden apparition.
"Oh, mother, I was so terrified!" she/ murmured. "I
dreamt I saw Joseph dying on the battle-field. He smiled
gently upon me for the last time, and then-
Here Mary's voice was lost in a torrent of tears.
Madame Van Dael pressed the poor child affectionately to
her heart, and wiped away the tears that coursed down her
cheeks.
'
My dear child, why torture yourself thus ? " she said with
forced calmness. " Those visions those images are only vain
dreams you ought to strive aud bauish from your mind. Hope,
my dear child, hope. Our Joseph will certainly return to us,
happy and healthy. God and Mary will restore Mm at the
"
united prayers of his mother and his &ist>;r.
The young girl then returned to her room, somewhat con-
soled, and str ^ve to forget her terrors in sleep.
In the course of the same night, Madame Morren, after
weeping a good deal, at last fell asleep, about daybreak, when
a terrible dream disturbed her tardy repose. She thought she
saw her dear Victor surrounded by wild beasts with tawny
manes bristling, an 1 eyes flashing; tigers, lions, white bears,
leopards, and panthers, all crowded round him, seeking to
devour him, and stretching forward their formidable jaws and
sharp claws. The young man, exposed to their ferocious
attacks, valiantly defended himself; nevertheless, his strength
aud blood were beginning to be exhausted, his sight was fail-
ing, his breathing slow and sibilant. Suddenly, an enormously
large lion rushed at h>m, flung him dotvn upon the ground,
aud the troop of monsters, simultaneously flinging themselves
upon the innocent victim, soon left upon the p Jiiii nothing but
shapeless, palpitating, bleeding remains.
The terrified mother awoke in the midst of the horrors of tlrs
dream, and wildly gazed around her, as it she still expect id
to see the dreadful vision that had troubled her sleep unfold
heart. And yet the studious philosophe thought he could rind
iy a remedy for las grief. He opened, by chauce, a volume
of Voltaire, and his eyes alighted at the place where these
aye inscribed: "All our actions are subject to fatality;
the empire of necessity rules all man's movements, and t^e
wo lii's too." He iluug the book far away from him with a
gesture of disdain.
itself to her gaze. But the rosy rays of morning already shed
their pearly tints on forest and plain, and the unhappy
mother, half-quieted, humbly prostrated herself near her bed
of pain.
" O Mary," she cried, raising her eyes to the image of the
Virgin Mary, " you see the tears I am shedding, the anguish
that tortures me. You know, O Mother ,f God, what a moiuer
suffer ! Golgotha you havo drunk to the very
may Upon
dregs tho deepest chalice of grief nnd abandonment th:
ever presented to maternal lips ! Have pity on inn; ask of
God to grant iv.e courage
to boat to the end the so. rows of the
sacrifice. Preserve my son to my love, m , God, if such is
Thy will ;
be done !
but in all things, and at all times may Thy will
Lei Thy providence decide what is most necessary
to our salvation and happiness !"
At the time his mother was praying for him, Victor knelt,
along with his companions, in the sanctuary of Lore o, where
s has been miraculously preserved the Immblo t> TJVHtrial
dwelling under whose roof became incarnate tho Diviuo
Word.
Iu the interior of that temple was about to take plac.
scene as moving as solemn, worthy of the glorious times of the
Crusaders," said a holy French priest, to whom it was given
to be an eye-witness of it.
" At four o'clock in the morning, Larnoricie.ro i 'i-no ".an. tho
whole staff, flugelmen, Dutch and Franco-Belgian regimentn,
Foreign Legion, Italian artillery aud guards,
r. cvived tin
of Our Lord in the Most Holy Sacrament of the Altar. I saw
them thoroughly recollected, most of them pi-o:. (rated on the
pavement of that church which illusti iou >.
> have