. The monk and the hangman's daughter. that I should crossmyself before partaking of anything that she hadbrought me or prepared, lest some evil come tome because of the ban upon her ; but this I wouldnot consent to do. While I ate she culled flowersfrom among the rocks, and, making a wreath, hungit upon the cross in front of the cabin ; afterwhich, when I had finished, she employed herselfin cleansing the dishes and arranging everythingin order as it should be, so that I imagined myselffar more comfortable than before, even in merelylooking about me. When there v/;. nothing more 1-5 5j,e fmon
. The monk and the hangman's daughter. that I should crossmyself before partaking of anything that she hadbrought me or prepared, lest some evil come tome because of the ban upon her ; but this I wouldnot consent to do. While I ate she culled flowersfrom among the rocks, and, making a wreath, hungit upon the cross in front of the cabin ; afterwhich, when I had finished, she employed herselfin cleansing the dishes and arranging everythingin order as it should be, so that I imagined myselffar more comfortable than before, even in merelylooking about me. When there v/;. nothing more 1-5 5j,e fmont to be done, and my conscience would not permit ^ ^me to invent reasons for detaining her, she went ™^Oinan «away, and oh, my Savior ! how dismal and dreary ®^^SP «?seemed the day when she was gone ! Ah, Bene-dicta, Benedicta, what is this that thou hast doneto me ? — making that sole service of the Lord towhich I am dedicated seem less happy and lessholy than a herdsmans humble life here in thewilderness with thee ! [IFE up licre is less disagree-able than I thought. Whatseemed to mo a dreary soli-tude seems now less dismaland desolate. This mount-ain Av i 1 d e r n c s s, whieli atfirst filled me Avith aAvo,gradually reveals its benign cliaiacter. It is mar-velously beautiful in its grandeur, with a beautywhich purifies and elevates the soul. One canread in it^ as in a book, the praises of its , while digging gentiana roots, I do not failto listen to the voice of the wilderness and to com-pose and chasten my soul more and more. In these mountains are no feathered birds here utter only shrill cries. The flowers,too, are without fragrance, but wondrously beauti-ful, shining with the fire and gold of stars. I haveseen slopes and heights here Avhich doubtless werenever trodden by any human foot. They seem to 127 Ct)t i«onft 128 me sacred, the touch of the Creator still visibleupon them, as when they came from His hand. Game is in great
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Keywords: ., bookauthorbierceam, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookyear1892
