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

MARIE.
As to th good and brave Martin, he bnd the misfortune to loso
hi* mother, old Teresa, a few months ftffcer his return. On
her death-bod the pious mendicant, having mado him draw
near, addressed to him (heso words:
"
My dear child, I am sati fin] with you: you have done
your duty. You have saved our good Joseph's life, ;md if Victor
Morren is dead, it is not your fault. But 1 have, another
advice to give you now. As Boon as you will have laid
the ground, take care and go to Kome. When you went (hero
first, it was not so much to sc rvo the Pope as to pay your old
mother's debt of gratitude ; this time you will go simply for
love of our good Father, the glorious Pius IX. limp" ;.>>.i
will know how to find your way without anybody's help."
Martin made it his duty to obey these last inntrnctionH.
After having prayed over his mother's grave, ho hatei
return to Italy, where he resumed his place in the ranks of the
Zouaves.
His first care, on arriving in Koine, was to visit his friend
Stefauo, who now alone occupies the house in the Trastevere.
The good and amiable Nunziata, whose sincere piety, after Vic-
tor's death, became still more fervent., has separated herself
forever from that world which had filled her youth with so
many trials and sorrows, and consecrated herself to God in the
silence and solitude of the cloister, where she soon became a
model to her pious sisters, thanks to the tender chcrity, humility,
and devotion which characterise her whole conduct, and
where every day she never censes to join, to the offering of her
virtues, that of her prayers, to obtain from God th > soul's rest
and heavenly beatitude for the unfc.rtnnate brother to whose
salvation she had devoted her efforts, her vows, and her life.
MY friend Valentine was sitting with me one day, and we
were speaking of a imm loaded with benefits, who that
very morning had been arraigning the justice and mercy of
God. These murmurs of the prosperous always raise strong
indignation in my heart. On recalling the conversation some
hours after it had passed, I coul I not help censuring it in a
manner which might be thought excessive. My friend re-
marked it, smiling e. s if he were wiser than I was, although he
was my junior by four or five years ; and his naturally good
temper checked me, when he feared that I was becoming too
bitter.
" Like you," he said, " I cannot see, without some irritation
a man make an imaginary misfortune a ground for bringing an
accusation against God. But because of this feeling, I think,
that when. we are removed from the st ciety of those that do so,
it is best not to recall their melancholy words, bnt to endeavor
to think of actions prec'sely the reverse. Both you and
I detest from our hearts the bin of ingratitude towards either
God or man ; well, let us seek an example of the contrary virtue,
and that will profit both of us much more than condemning
the vice. For my part, I have a story all ready. Now,
stir up the lire, and I will begin.
" You have not forgotten when we first became acquainted.
It was at your native town, where I happened to be residing
for a few months, studying medicine with a good doctor there.
Having been brought up entirely in the country by my grandfather,
I was somewhat shy and reserved, and did not seek to
.;-iy acquaintance. My ihief pleasures were rambles in
the neighborhood, and on the sea-shore; and I have < it( n
I hours lying on the grass, or sitting ou the rocks, but
always with a favorite book in my hand. My walks ha
dom any particular object in view ; and so it happened, that
>y I found myself in n narrow valley watered by a bright
i, with one side bordered by fields, and the other by a-
Those few worda suffice to toll my readers all they
5.3
wish to
r;tory, which, in
all its developments and details, has been to me a labor <
ion and love.
Our age, indeed, in an ago of selfishness and cowardice,
uptiim and error ; but, n
honor, and virtue, by God's grace, are, seen glit.t.ering
lien: and
,ver the surface of this marsh, in the midst of thai
Ami I
bare sought according to the measure of my D
ily to draw from its obscurity, and fashion and ;
one of those priceless pearls, that it might shine, in all its
splendor, before the, eyes of the world.
Otln r pens m "ra capable, other vol.
I know, likewise celebrated (Ms devotion and these virtues.
But what mutter ? Although my name be obscure, although
my voice be feeble, my lips shall rr
irate year glory, .mil valiant, <
ons of justice, champions of faith, champions of the
tiuth !
When impious conquerors strove to erase from tho pa;
history the sacred principles of rel gion and right, you replied
to that challenge by arming for the holiest cause on
When rash enemies combined to shake the foundations of
you raised like a rampart of steel around the See of Peter your
brows, your arms and your breasts. When vde enemie
to declare war against the omnipotent God, yon shed your gen-
erous blood and gathered the martyrs' palms. May e.
glory be given you, victims and heroes in peace
The olive and laurel branches unite to form the diadem wherewith
you are crowned.
MARIE.
( .
and in war !
in two, leaving a little island not more than four or five yards
across, and a sudden fall in the ground produced the prettiest
cascades imaginable, the water dancing and sparkling over tho
moss-covered pebbles, until, in a shower like fine rain, it
reached a pool below, whence it quietly continued its course.
It required no effort to spring from the meadow to the little,
island, as the stream just there was very narrow ; and I can
hardly explain to you the pleasure I had in taking possession
of my newly discovered domain. I threw myself at the foot of
a tree which proudly raised its head from amidst the bushes
with which the islet was covered, and for an hour lay there
doing absolutely nothing; the murmuring of the water and tho
sensation of perfect repose, threw me into a half-dreaming
state, most pleasant to experience, yet difficult to describe.
"I was roused at last by n slight noise, and looking through
the bushes, I saw a little girl clinging to the back of a largo
Newfoundland dog, who was bringing her to my
island. The
child's lit ad rested on the animal's back, and her fair curls
mingled with the rough coat of her robust companion. They
got safely to shore without perceiving me. However, when I
arose and approached the little girl, who was sitting on a bank
of convolvulus, her faithful guardian gave a low growl, which
sufficiently intimated his suspicion of my intentions. The
ehiiil, too, though she endeavored to smile, was evidently not
very well satisfied with my appearance, and pale as she was
when I first fcaw her, she blushed rosy red as she tried to
her poor little bare feet with her wet frock I thought at first
it was fear of me that prevented her rising, as she still remained
in ths: same attitude, leaning on her elbow, half hidden
by the tall grass.
" ' Go and fetch them, Neptune,' she said, pointing to the
other side of the stream.
" Before obeying, Neptune fixed his large, anxious eyes on
my face, and then came to lick my hand, as if he iutem.li