Part 54 (1/2)
With a gasp of horror and a mad desire to take her away from the sight of this gaping, fascinated crowd, Charley made to rush forward, but Jo Portugais held him back.
”Be still. You will ruin her, M'sieu'!” said Jo.
”--even for such as I am,” the beautiful voice went on, ”hath He died.
And in the ages to come, women such as I, and all women who sorrow, and all men who err and are deceived, and all the helpless world, will know that this was the Friend of the human soul.” Not a gesture, not a movement, only that slight, pathetic figure, with pale, agonised face, and eyes that looked--looked--looked beyond them, over their heads to the darkening east, the clouded light of evening behind her. Her voice rang out now valiant and clear, now searching and piteous, yet reaching to where the farthermost person knelt, and was lost upon the lake and in the spreading trees.
”What ye have done may never be undone; what He hath said shall never be unsaid. His is the Word which shall unite all languages, when ye that are Romans shall be no more Romans, and ye that are Jews shall still be Jews, reproached and alone. No longer shall men faint in the glare--the shadow of the Cross shall screen them. No more shall woman bear her black sorrows, alone; the Light of the World shall cheer her.”
As she spoke, the cloud drew back from the sunset, and the saffron glow behind lighted the cross, and shone upon her hair, casting her face in a gracious shadow. Her voice rose higher. ”I, the Magdalene, am the first-fruits of this sacrifice: from the foot of the cross I come. I have sinned more than all. I have shamed all women. But I have confessed my sin, and He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”
Her voice now became lower, but clear and even, pathetically exulting:
”O world, forgive, as He hath forgiven you! Fall, dark curtain, and hide this pain, and rise again upon forgiven sin and a redeemed people!”
She stood still, with her eyes upraised, and the curtain came slowly down.
For a long time no one in all the gathered mult.i.tude stirred. Far over under the trees a man sat upon the ground, his head upon his arms, and his arms upon his knees, in a misery unmeasurable. Beside him stood a woodsman, who knew of no word to say that might comfort him.
A girl, in the garb of the Magdalene, entered the tent of the Cure, and, speaking no word, knelt and received absolution of her sins.
CHAPTER LVI. MRS. FLYNN SPEAKS
CHARLEY left Jo Portugais behind, and went home alone. He watched at a window till he saw Rosalie return. As she pa.s.sed quickly down the street with Mrs. Flynn to her own door, he observed that her face was happier than he had seen it for many a day. Her step was lighter, there was a freedom in her air, a sense of confidence in her carriage.
She bore herself as one who had done a thing which relaxed a painful tension. There was a curious glow in her eyes and face, and this became deeper as, showing himself at the door, she saw him, smiled, and stood still. He came across the street and took her hand.
”You have been away,” she said softly. ”For a few days,” he answered.
”Far?”
”At Vadrome Mountain.”
”You have missed these last days of the Pa.s.sion Play,” she said, a shadow in her eyes.
”I was present to-day,” he answered.
She turned away her head quickly, for the look in his eyes told her more than any words could have done, and Mrs. Flynn said:
”'Tis a day for everlastin' mimory, sir. For the part she played this day, the darlin', only such as she could play! 'Tis the innocent takin'
the shame o' the guilty, and the tears do be comin' to me eyes. 'Tis not ould Widdy Flynn's eyes alone that's wet this day, but hearts do be weepin' for the love o' G.o.d.”
Rosalie suddenly opened the door, and, without another look at Charley, entered the house.
”'Tis one in a million!” said Mrs. Flynn, in a confidential tone, for she had a fixed idea that Rosalie loved Charley and that he loved her, and that the only thing that stood in the way of their marriage was religion. From the first Charley had conquered Mrs. Flynn. That he was a tailor was a pity and a shame, but love was love, and the man had a head on him and a heart in him; and love was love! So Mrs. Flynn said:
”'Tis one that a man that's a man should do annything for, was it havin'