Part 35 (1/2)

The abbess came of princely race: The nuns might not gainsay: And sadly pa.s.sed the timid band, To execute the high command They dared not disobey.

The monument was opened then: It gave to general sight The alabaster couch alone: But all its lucid substance shone With preternatural tight.

They laid the corpse within the shrine!

They closed its doors again: But nameless terror seemed to fall, Throughout the livelong night, on all Who formed the funeral train.

Lo! on the morrow morn, still closed The monument was found; But in its robes funereal drest, The corpse they had consigned to rest Lay on the stony ground.

Fear and amazement seized on all: They called on Mary's aid: And in the tomb, unclosed again, With choral hymn and funeral train, The corpse again was laid.

But with the incorruptible Corruption might not rest: The lonely chapel's stone-paved floor Received the ejected corpse once more, In robes funereal drest.

So was it found when morning beamed: In solemn suppliant strain The nuns implored all saints in heaven, That rest might to the corpse be given, Which they entombed again.

On the third night a watch was kept By many a friar and nun: Trembling, all knelt in fervent prayer, 'Till on the dreary midnight air Rolled the deep bell-toll, 'One'!

The saint within the opening tomb Like marble statue stood: All fell to earth in deep dismay: And through their ranks she pa.s.sed away, In calm unchanging mood.

No answering sound her footsteps raised Along the stony floor: Silent as death, severe as fate, She glided through the chapel gate, And none beheld her more.

The alabaster couch was gone: The tomb was void and bare: For the last time, with hasty rite, Even 'mid the terror of the night, They laid the abbess there.

'Tis said the abbess rests not well In that sepulchral pile: But yearly, when the night comes round As dies of 'One' the bell's deep sound She flits along the aisle.

But whither pa.s.sed the virgin saint, To slumber far away, Destined by Mary to endure, Unaltered in her semblance pure, Until the judgment-day?

None knew, and none may ever know: Angels the secret keep: Impenetrable ramparts bound, Eternal silence dwells around The chamber of her sleep.

CHAPTER x.x.xV

REJECTED SUITORS--CONCLUSION

(Greek pa.s.sage)

May the G.o.ds grant what your best hopes pursue, A husband, and a home, with concord true; No greater boon from Jove's ethereal dome Descends, than concord in the nuptial home --Ulysses to Nausicaa, in the sixth book of the Odyssey.

What pa.s.sed between Algernon and Morgana, when the twenty-eighth morning brought his probation to a close, it is unnecessary to relate. The gentleman being predetermined to propose, and the lady to accept, there was little to be said, but that little was conclusive.

Mr. Gryll was delighted. His niece could not have made a choice more thoroughly to his mind.

[Ill.u.s.tration: All's well that ends well 326-284]

'My dear Morgana,' he said, 'all's well that ends well. Your fastidiousness in choice has arrived at a happy termination. And now you will perhaps tell me why you rejected so many suitors, to whom you had in turn accorded a hearing. In the first place, what was your objection to the Honourable Escor A'Ca.s.s?{1} He was a fine, handsome, das.h.i.+ng fellow. He was the first in the field, and you seemed to like him.'

1 To-the-Crows: the Athenian equivalent for our o'-the- Devil: a gambler's journey: not often a long one.

_Miss Gryll._ He was too das.h.i.+ng, uncle: he gambled. I did like him, till I discovered his evil propensity.

_Mr. Gryll._ To Sir Alley Capel? 'My dear Marcotta, all's well that mix well.