Part 8 (2/2)

The next day his mortal remains were placed in a neat coffin where the Brethren and Sisters and the settlers of all denominations for miles around could gaze once more upon the face and form of this unconquerable Christian soldier and martyr and pay their last respects to the memory of our eloquent exhorter. I shall not dwell upon the rites and ceremonies that made his burial so solemn and memorable. As his body was lowered into its resting-place in the meadow a little to the east of Brother Beissel's cabin, a special funeral hymn was sung by the Sabbatarians, composed for the occasion by his lifelong friend, our superintendent.

After the singing of the hymn the Brotherhood of Zion, being nearest about the grave, closed with its mystic rites the funeral ceremonies, the Sisters in a tearful group standing beyond us, and all being surrounded by the sincere friends of our departed brother, and the curious ones who ever attend such sad occasions.

A modest tombstone marks his sleeping-place, bearing the following German inscription by Brother Beissel, which I translate freely thus:

HERE REPOSES THE G.o.dLY WARRIOR

AGONIUS

DIED ANNO 1741.

_Aged 54 years, 4 months, 28 days._

Victory brings the crown In the fight for faith, grace, and renown.

Thus blessings crown the warrior true Who bravely sin and Belial slew.

Peacefully he pa.s.sed to his chamber of rest Where now he is free of all pain and distress.

CHAPTER XII

SISTER BERNICE IS COMFORTED

Girls and gold are the softer the purer they are.

--Jean Paul Richter.

The beautiful flowers that grew down in the meadow where we laid our Brother Agonius in his chamber of rest, like him were soon gathered up into the arms of the Master Reaper. The enchantments of the long, hot, summer days had worked silently but surely the entrancing spells that now spread over field and forest the glowing vestments of the early fall.

But one day as I was resting at the foot of the venerable oak where Brother Martin had been hastened to his death by that strange woman not many years before, suddenly I heard a piercing shriek from the thick woods back of me and a wild, terrified rush toward the little clearing where I was standing erect, fairly astounded. In a moment more Sister Bernice fell almost headlong at my feet, whence I lifted her unconscious with fright and terror into my arms.

Hardly knowing what to do I stood there helplessly gazing at her sweet face and then at the crown of hair that lay like a golden fleece over my arm, her hood having fallen to the ground, so that I was thankful some remnant of womanly vanity had saved her from the hideous tonsure. But I bethought myself to lay her gently on the ground, her head, a dear burden, in my lap, fanning her face as best I might with my large, toil-stained hands. At last the fluttering eyelids and the gasping breath told me of returning consciousness. At first she opened her eyes and gazed at me wonderingly, vaguely, and once she closed them as if to shut out some awful sight. I rubbed her hands, her wrists, softly smoothed her brow, and spake to her gently, ”'Tis naught but Brother Jabez; thou needst not fear him. What hath he done?” and by such soft entreaties and with tender pressures of the hands I sought to soothe her to herself again.

Finally, she sat up weakly, but leaning so sweetly and helplessly against me--it being necessary to hold her safe with mine arms for great fear she might faint again--that I longed to sit there forever. She, however, after a while freed herself somewhat from my too careful protection and said ”Nay, my dear sister, my--Bernice, I never had much faith in such wild tales,” said I, as she lifted those clear, trusting eyes to mine. And may I be forgiven for this unblus.h.i.+ng, unscrupulous lie; for did I not know of the witch of Endor? Many a tale had I heard in the _Vaterland_ of the malign influences of the evil eye, so that now I felt a vague dread I dared not make known to my poor little sister, who had flown to my arms as a birdling to its nest.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”In a moment more Sister Bernice fell almost headlong at my feet.” Page 128.]

”Think not of her more, my sister; she cannot harm thee now, dear Bernice.” Upon which boastful a.s.surance she smiled confidently enough and said with a look I would not have changed for a kingdom, ”That I know quite well, thou great giant; wast thou ever afraid, Brother Jabez?”

”Never,” I responded valiantly, recklessly adding another lie to the record I this day seemed bound to cover with falsehoods.

”Oh, that I could be so brave, Brother Jabez; but I have ever been weak, such a coward; the _Vaterchen_ and the _Mutterchen_ always s.h.i.+elded me as though I were in all truth a baby.” Here she paused as if to catch her breath, and then slowly again as with difficulty she said quietly, ”I have been growing so weak lately, I wonder what ails me?”

And now my selfish joy, after all these gloomy months without sight of her, gave way to a pain that shot through me like an arrow as I saw how much more delicate and ethereal she had become since that blissful love feast. For a moment my soul was in hot rebellion at all the hards.h.i.+ps and privations that made our Kloster life almost unbearable to the strongest and which were so heavy on the frail shoulders of this sweet angel at my side. Something of my wicked wrath must have expressed itself against my will, for she suddenly looked up at me alarmed, crying out, ”What is wrong, Brother Jabez? Thou hast such a hard, angry look in thy eyes, such as I have never seen there before.”

”I am not in anger, Sister Bernice” replied I, softening my evil looks to fit my words, ”merely thinking hard--exceeding hard.”

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