Page:The International - Volume 1.djvu/171

shook so he was compelled to sit down under the portal. Nobody paid any attention to him. The people came out of the houses: it seemed to him as if they grew out of the pavement, and what at first was but low whisperings, now broke out into loud words, and the whole crowd spoke of nothing else but of the sin Phenicia had been guilty of, and that the priest had refused to give her absolution. Carmenio could bear it no longer; he arose and dragged his weary body along the crooked streets towards the gate of the town. But another crowd was coming from that direction. Their gestures were wild, their eyes shone and they were talking in an excited manner. "They are bringing her—they are bringing her!" sounded in Carmenio's ears. "Whom?" he asked, half crazed. "Whom are they bringing?"

"Your sister, Carmenio." said an old man sympathetically.

"Poor woman, she threw herself down from the rock near the spring!"

"A wicked ending will not correct a sinful life," severely remarked one of the women standing by.

Carmenio could not utter a word. He saw that the men carried something upon their shoulders, that it was covered with a cloth, and that it had the form of a human body.

"We brought her up with great difficulty; it was no easy task, I can assure you," explained one of the men.

They pushed Carmenio aside, because he stood in the way, and carried her into the house of Aunt Pina, where they laid her upon a bed by the window opposite the old mouldering balcony covered with a luxuriant growth of passion flowers. Aunt Pina was no friend to noise and confusion: she therefore drove the curious crowd out of the house, then raised the cloth that still covered the motionless form of the young woman. The lips were blue. Aunt Pina placed her hand upon Phenicia's forehead.

"Like a stone," she said. "It is all over." Nevertheless, after a short interval, she sent for a priest. He came,—not the monk Father Philip,—but Father Ambrosio, their pastor. Hardly had he entered

the room when Phenicia's body gave a slight tremor and she slowly opened her eyes.

"You have brought her a happy death, Father Ambrosio," said Aunt Pina, giving him a chair and leaving the room. Carmenio remained. The priest took her hand; he had known her from childhood, and was deeply moved.

"Unhappy child," he said tenderly, "you wished to escape the reproaches of conscience, and you chose sin. Do you not know there is another way out of such agony? God be merciful to you."

Her eyes brightened, her lips trembled, she motioned to him to bend down to her, for she could not speak above a whisper.

"I am so happy," she said, "so happy!"

He looked at her in amazement. She now caught sight of Carmenio, and motioned him to approach. When he crawled to her on his knees, she took him by the hand and looked at him with emotion. With the other hand she held the old priest and again whispered, "God is inexpressibly good, our Savior is so kind; Oh, so kind!" She closed her eyes, and did not open them for some time. Then she said almost aloud: "I was not seeking death; I fell."

"Beware of a falsehood," said the priest, "God cannot be deceived."

She smiled sweetly and continued in a broken voice: "Certainly, and therefore I speak the truth. . . . What good would it do to deny the truth, and deceive my own self, as I did that time in Messina. . . . I testified falsely, persuading myself that I was doing my duty. . . . We were so wronged, and they wanted to wrong us still more. . . . Night and day I prayed to our Savior to tell me what to do, and it seemed to me that He replied: ′Listen to the voice of your heart!′ I did so, Father Ambrosio, and endured such agony,—agony worse than that of souls in purgatory. Yes, worse than lost souls suffer in hell. . ."

She closed her eyes and breathed with great difficulty. It appeared that she was suffering intensely. She remained silent a long time, then began to whisper again: "When I fled from the church as if pursued by demons. I ran—I did not know where,

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