BOOK EIGHTH.
CHAPTER 6. THREE HUMAN HEARTS DIFFERENTLY CONSTRUCTED.
(continued)
"Non timebo millia populi circumdantis me: exsurge, Domine;
salvum me fac, Deus!"
"Salvum me fac, Deus, quoniam intraverunt aquoe usque ad
animam meam.
"Infixus sum in limo profundi; et non est substantia."
At the same time, another voice, separate from the choir,
intoned upon the steps of the chief altar, this melancholy
offertory,-
"Qui verbum meum audit, et credit ei qui misit me, habet
vitam oeternam et in judicium non venit; sed transit a morte
im vitam*."
* "He that heareth my word and believeth on Him that sent me,
hath eternal life, and hath not come into condemnation; but is
passed from death to life."
This chant, which a few old men buried in the gloom sang
from afar over that beautiful creature, full of youth and life,
caressed by the warm air of spring, inundated with sunlight
was the mass for the dead.
The people listened devoutly.
The unhappy girl seemed to lose her sight and her
consciousness in the obscure interior of the church. Her white
lips moved as though in prayer, and the headsman's assistant
who approached to assist her to alight from the cart, heard
her repeating this word in a low tone,--"Phoebus."
They untied her hands, made her alight, accompanied by her
goat, which had also been unbound, and which bleated with
joy at finding itself free: and they made her walk barefoot on
the hard pavement to the foot of the steps leading to the door.
The rope about her neck trailed behind her. One would have
said it was a serpent following her.
Then the chanting in the church ceased. A great golden
cross and a row of wax candles began to move through the
gloom. The halberds of the motley beadles clanked; and, a
few moments later, a long procession of priests in chasubles,
and deacons in dalmatics, marched gravely towards the condemned
girl, as they drawled their song, spread out before her
view and that of the crowd. But her glance rested on the one
who marched at the head, immediately after the cross-bearer.
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