Chita: A Memory of Last Island

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by Lafcadio Hearn

Cristo, embriagame!

  "O buen Jesus, oye me!" ...

  Out of the darkness into--such a light! An azure haze! Ah!--thedelicious frost! ... All the streets were filled with the sweet bluemist ... Voiceless the City and white;--crooked and weed grown itsnarrow ways! ... Old streets of tombs, these ... Eh! How odd acustom!--a Night-bell at every door. Yes, of course!--anight-bell!--the Dead are Physicians of Souls: they may be summonedonly by night,--called up from the darkness and silence ... Yetshe?--might he not dare to ring for her even by day? ........ Strangehe had deemed it day!--why, it was black, starless ... And it wasgrowing queerly cold ...... How should he ever find her now? It wasso black ... so cold! ...

  --"Cheri!"

  All the dwelling quivered with the mighty whisper.

  Outside, the great oaks were trembling to their roots;--all the shoreshook and blanched before the calling of the sea.

  And Carmen, kneeling at the feet of the dead, cried out, alone in thenight:--

  --"O Jesus misericordioso!--tened compasion de el!"

 



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