Murad the Unlucky, and Other Tales
Page 19
CHAPTER XIII
"When thy last breath, ere Nature sank to rest Thy meek submission to thy God expressed; When thy last look, ere thought and feeling fled, A mingled gleam of hope and triumph shed; What to thy soul its glad assurance gave-- Its hope in death, its triumph o'er the grave? The sweet remembrance of unblemished youth, Th' inspiring voice of innocence and truth!"--ROGERS.
The good Sister Frances, though she had scarcely recovered from the shockof the preceding night, accompanied Victoire to the Chateau de Fleury.The gates were opened for them by the old steward and his son Basile, whowelcomed them with all the eagerness with which people welcome friends intime of adversity. The old man showed them the place; and through everyapartment of the castle went on talking of former times, and withnarrative fondness told anecdotes of his dear master and mistress. Herehis lady used to sit and read--here was the table at which she wrote--thiswas the sofa on which she and the ladies sat the very last day she was atthe castle, at the open windows of the hall, whilst all the tenants andpeople of the village were dancing on the green.
"Ay, those were happy times," said the old man; "but they will neverreturn."
"Never! Oh do not say so," cried Victoire.
"Never during my life, at least," said the nun in a low voice, and with alook of resignation.
Basile, as he wiped the tears from his eyes, happened to strike his armagainst the chord of Madame de Fleury's harp, and the sound echoedthrough the room.
"Before this year is at an end," cried Victoire, "perhaps that harp willbe struck again in this Chateau by Madame de Fleury herself. Last nightwe could hardly have hoped to see these walls standing this morning, andyet it is safe--not a stone touched! Oh, we shall all live, I hope, tosee better times!"
Sister Frances smiled, for she would not depress Victoire's enthusiastichope: to please her, the good nun added, that she felt better thismorning than she had felt for months, and Victoire was happier than shehad been since Madame de Fleury left France. But, alas! it was only atransient gleam. Sister Frances relapsed and declined so rapidly, thateven Victoire, whose mind was almost always disposed to hope, despairedof her recovery. With placid resignation, or rather with mildconfidence, this innocent and benevolent creature met the approach ofdeath. She seemed attached to earth only by affection for those whom shewas to leave in this world. Two of the youngest of the children who hadformerly been placed under her care, and who were not yet able to earntheir own subsistence, she kept with her, and in the last days of herlife she continued her instructions to them with the fond solicitude of aparent. Her father confessor, an excellent man, who never even in thesedangerous times shrank from his duty, came to Sister Frances in her lastmoments, and relieved her mind from all anxiety, by promising to placethe two little children with the lady who had been abbess of her convent,who would to the utmost of her power protect and provide for themsuitably. Satisfied by this promise, the good Sister Frances smiled uponVictoire, who stood beside her bed, and with that smile upon hercountenance expired.--It was some time before the little children seemedto comprehend, or to believe, that Sister Frances was dead: they hadnever before seen any one die; they had no idea what it was to die, andtheir first feeling was astonishment; they did not seem to understand whyVictoire wept. But the next day when no Sister Frances spoke to them,when every hour they missed some accustomed kindness from her,--whenpresently they saw the preparations for her funeral,--when they heardthat she was to be buried in the earth, and that they should never seeher more,--they could neither play nor eat, but sat in a corner holdingeach other's hands, and watching everything that was done for the dead byVictoire.
In those times, the funeral of a nun, with a priest attending, would nothave been permitted by the populace. It was therefore performed assecretly as possible: in the middle of the night the coffin was carriedto the burial-place of the Fleury family; the old steward, his sonBasile, Victoire, and the good father confessor, were the only personspresent. It is necessary to mention this, because the facts wereafterwards misrepresented.