Part 21 (1/2)
”I'll swap even for a look at some of your other tapestries.”
”My what?”
”Your cloth pictures, like the cat.”
”Land! I'll get some.”
She bounced from her chair, bustled into an adjoining room, and they heard her open a trunk. A moment later she was back with two tapestries under her arm. She spread one, a yard long by about twenty inches wide, and Jeff gasped.
It was _The Last Supper_, but instead of following conventional patterns, Granny had drawn inspiration from the life around her. Jesus and His disciples were seated at a wooden table that was innocent of any adornment or finery whatsoever, but the table was so finely done that a sliver thrusting out from it seemed both real and symbolic. There was an air of dignity that rose above mere human dignity, and the dyes had been applied with a touch so delicate that holy light seemed to emanate from the picture. Its message was one of hope. Judas was not to be abandoned.
”Do you like it?” Granny asked.
”It--” Jeff was at a loss for words. ”It's wonderful!”
”Preacher Skiles thinks the Lord ain't right.”
”Preacher Skiles a.s.sumes a great deal of responsibility.”
She laughed. ”'Twas not the way he meant it. He thinks Jesus should be sittin' above the rest, with maybe angels flyin' at His shoulder.”
”It's better this way.”
”That's what I thought,” Granny a.s.serted. ”The Lord, He wasn't above the beggars, the sick and those who done wrong. Somehow I got to think of Him as comin' down to all of us.”
”I, too.”
”This one,” Granny spread the other tapestry, ”I call _The Fall of Satan_.”
Jeff gasped again. The picture centered around the black silhouette of Satan, with a background done in delicate shades of red. There was about the figure utter misery, abandonment and despair. The gates of h.e.l.l, which he had not yet entered, were merely suggested. But they were suggested so artistically that one sensed the seething fires, the complete torment, that awaited.
Dan looked and shuddered. ”Gee!”
Jeff breathed, ”Why hasn't anyone else seen these, Granny?”
”Enos,” she answered, ”didn't hold with hangin' them on the walls and I've tried to keep the house as Enos'd want it. But I knew Enos wouldn't mind Kitty Cat. He--he's company.”
”Somebody should see them.”
”Pooh! Who'd bother with an old woman's foolishness?”
”I would.”
”Then take them. Take them for the knife.”
”I won't do it.”
She seemed crestfallen. ”I didn't think you would.”