my little maids in rags and misery and despair, uttered
a deep blasphemy—oh! a thousand of them!
—against the Church and the Church’s
ways. It was ten days ago. I had fallen
sick with this disease, and it was to the priest I
said the words, for he was come to chide me for lack
of due humility under the chastening hand of God.
He carried my trespass to his betters; I was stubborn;
wherefore, presently upon my head and upon all heads
that were dear to me, fell the curse of Rome.
“Since that day we are avoided, shunned with
horror. None has come near this hut to know
whether we live or not. The rest of us were
taken down. Then I roused me and got up, as wife
and mother will. It was little they could have
eaten in any case; it was less than little they had
to eat. But there was water, and I gave them
that. How they craved it! and how they blessed
it! But the end came yesterday; my strength
broke down. Yesterday was the last time I ever
saw my husband and this youngest child alive.
I have lain here all these hours—these ages,
ye may say—listening, listening for any
sound up there that—”
She gave a sharp quick glance at her eldest daughter,
then cried out, “Oh, my darling!” and
feebly gathered the stiffening form to her sheltering
arms. She had recognized the death-rattle.
THE TRAGEDY OF THE MANOR-HOUSE
At midnight all was over, and we sat in the presence
of four corpses. We covered them with such rags
as we could find, and started away, fastening the
door behind us. Their home must be these people’s
grave, for they could not have Christian burial, or
be admitted to consecrated ground. They were
as dogs, wild beasts, lepers, and no soul that valued
its hope of eternal life would throw it away by meddling
in any sort with these rebuked and smitten outcasts.
We had not moved four steps when I caught a sound
as of footsteps upon gravel. My heart flew to
my throat. We must not be seen coming from that
house. I plucked at the king’s robe and
we drew back and took shelter behind the corner of
the cabin.
“Now we are safe,” I said, “but
it was a close call—so to speak. If
the night had been lighter he might have seen us, no
doubt, he seemed to be so near.”
“Mayhap it is but a beast and not a man at all.”
“True. But man or beast, it will be wise
to stay here a minute and let it get by and out of
the way.”
“Hark! It cometh hither.”
True again. The step was coming toward us—straight
toward the hut. It must be a beast, then, and
we might as well have saved our trepidation.
I was going to step out, but the king laid his hand
upon my arm. There was a moment of silence, then
we heard a soft knock on the cabin door. It
made me shiver. Presently the knock was repeated,
and then we heard these words in a guarded voice:
