[ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.) LIGHTFOOT'S MIDNIGHT MASS.
BY
KOMA WHITE.
THE HONGKONG DAILY PRESS, SATURDAY, DECEMBER 24TH, 1910,
"An' if there's any now in the word 'all do it, Lightfout 'all be the ono," said Tin |
Le was again, to himself, with couvistion. duty concerned for Lightfoot's
pro-agiinance, in mitters epicitaal as well as lacteal, over all other klos
He went away to the priest's kitchen with his pail, where Father Calverley's cook duly took "And so, for the mutary of that night, when her master's modest portion, and not the rest in the Saviour candora from His Throne of the wide cooler "for, the poor." The foaling Glory, and. boru a human babe of a human that Lightfoot's silky bag moet have in it some thing of the sanctity with which the Church's mother, was lit gested upon earth by the collecting bag was naturally endowed, came amazed and ad ring kina--for the memory. of that night at Bethlehem (it is written), all the home to Tim te-aight more poiganntly than
workl
sual. A cow that no freely to the poor" stroke cattlo upon the röand
gave de, upon the
TBS, of a euroty, a cow that could not fail in her of midnight otery Christens. Ivo, kau in zerorence in their stall, and at their dambuilduight mass. Tim went away, with the doter Jaination in his baurt to spond the hour of worship of the Saviour to the Christine tous ses
midnight, not in Church, as he had done on other that are voiced aloud by the tongues of mo.
tone, savo those who worship Go with Christmas Eves, but in watching by Lightfoot's Kut simple hearts may look upon this simple-hearted stall.
adoration of His kino."
*
**
So taste was no Tow cey-na heart-broken assont Very quietly she advandol a stop- er to the priest,
"Paul, Lam not a wisked woman, for I still worship God"
Tase your worship doss Him dishonour, and will only call down His wrath more retent. lessly upon you."
The priest's voice, though low, was terrible, bat Cicely did not aliciak. The inat mall bell was bezinning to tinkle from the Church. In- sile Lightfoot's shel, Tim Wilkinson had the
ateh ready to light his lantern.
Uicely lifted her fage to the stara. It was a beautiful face that had once baon sager, bril. fiant, coaselessly ohangofal with emotion. To night it was calm, ocurageous, and full of a limitless trust.
"I wordiip Him because, through (ho grist- mess of my human love, I seem to have fasent something of His divine love. I was nun olco→→ bat. I a woman now, and I am contant to trust the purity and the honour of my womanhood to
Whitew shed wall of the cow-a ed, sul, on the st by his library firo, waiting for the hour of His pity to dileht. For the first time #-
The child who road way leaning squint the ledge of the window above hor, su od iron lautern throw ont a sirela of yellow light into the building Through the window the sky showed steel-bhte, overlaid with a quicor of stars. It was a Christmas Eve of such frosty clearness that the whole dome of heaven seemed as if so broadcast with a myriad points of gold,
"
In the shippon was the warmth of the body of Father Calverley's black. Keery cow; the fragrance of her breath; and the combined soff sounds of her rough tongue working Zound and round her tub of used-cako, and of her milk droning evenly and nousie ly into Tin Wläinson's pail, Tim tad his head, cushioned into the dusky loins; his hands worked steadily; but his ice were not missing word of the reading of the child, whoso voice fell into the quietness of the rhed almost as rhythmically as the sound of Lightfoot's milk, She was a somil, sli. ht child, with eager face and absorbol eyes, and her fingers, long and thin, clasped the corners of an old maaueceipt book,
"None save those who worship God with simple hearts tony look upon this simple-hearted adoration of His kina."
They were the list words of the chapter, and the child closed the book, aud.atoud gaz ing with wide-open awe-stricken eyes at the horns of Lightfoot, where the lantern lit the cow's dark head.
Tim she breathed. "Tim!"
Tim raised his bond from the Kerry's loins, and the rays of yellow light fell upon his face. "Balf-witted Tim." they called him in the village, and were kind to him for pity of is infirmity. Only Mars, the little else of Father Calverley, was never kind to him out of pity; nor did Lightfoot; the Kerry, give her milk to him as she gave it to no one elas by reason of compassion for him. Both Diary and Lightfoot had an unspoken love
for Tim.
Mary had gone home, and Father Calverley midnight was His strong face was set and torn with the memory of a sorrow, naror out lived, which had loan piercingly ruvallad this Claristmas eo. More than thirty years ago ho and his sister Cicely bad sat, eagerly nestled to the very book of legends which little "Mary gother by a Christmas fra, and had read out of had read from, to-night. Side by side, with heads and hands tousing, they had absorbad the story of the Christm Mues of the cows. And then, thrilling with anticipatio, they had escaped together into the snow; and, making their way to the cowshed this held the Manor kine, had set themselves near the window, to wait and watch.
The
rag of the meaning that Life held for Cinnly seemed to ponutrate his anderstanding. Was it, perhaps, posible that God's love and pity could reach out so far as to gather his sister in without penande, without strivlar. Father -gather her in without priost y intervention, Calverley's mind, rigil and mediaval, was, shaken to its depths. Oh! for some sign that God would accept Cicely's worship--zame suok sign as the blossoming of a staff had given to priests of old.
Ho spoke houreely through his pain and his now-born, bope,
"IF only I could haljere that "We asoapted it, Hew rent it had sil sɛemod-how entzost and Cicely! If only, the deep agony that I have believing they were. And has bitterly hard suffers for you could ha oused! Oh, my sister they had felt it when they were found by sumy ittle sister! If God would give me a they indignant use, and summarily carried off to sign-one little siga." hot luths, milk, and hot beda. Yrs! In the e dase
ho had been quite sure that the legend was true. And Cicely! He could see her child's face now--jure, wild, glowing with ea orders just a little Mary plowed. Little Mary! His other sistor's child! Bat he had never
loved Bleanor is ho laved Cicely—.
Father Culgerely dropped his white stern face upon his hands for a moment. For Cicely there more God's love, God's pity, God's BY forgiveness. She had set barnslf onside the pale. Cicely-his little Cicely—was a wicked woman.
“A wicked woman!"
It was ten years ago now since Ciocly had left them. With that dear agous he remembered the summor evening that she had gone away, when he wandered in the garden among her drad lifes. Cloely's hiles dead! That was what the raiden cried out to him. That was the shameful truth told in Cicely's letter.
- For Cicely had broken hor gaws,
The priest broke off. The hour of midnight was just going to sound. Suddenly, from Lightfoot's shed came a glow of light. Both Father Cair rieg aud Cicely taraat with a start. But the woman was the irat to exclaim,
"It is the cor-house! Is it on fire?"
With quick fear for the animals insido Cicely sprang to the latch, and Hang open the upper half of the door. Father Calverley, followed. her. The first stroke of midnight rang out, and ushered in Christmas Day.
•
Was it some ease of unrest about her that had made Lightfoot move? Was she about to rise fully to her fout? Who shall say? What Father Calverley saw, what Cicely saw, what half-witted Tim, lifting his newly-lit lantero, saw, was Lightfoot kaeeling in her stall with arrested saruest attention, and eyes that scomod full of all the wistfulness of all the world.
4
The last stroke of twelve-dind away, and
A sun she was always to have been. The Lightfoot, changing her mind about rising to beauty of holizera and chastity was like the box feat, lay slowly down again. Tim Wil Tin! It must be true, you know, becatino beants of stars and roses to dreamy, romantickinson spoke loy, and craat hiniself in awe.
She Cively,That she could ever find the stars and my great-unele write this book. Look!"
Itrosos of life elsewhere would have seemed to her opanol the book, and hold it towards hilo. ia ali down here in queer brown ink! And what be wrote must be true!"
Tim was listening to Mary with grave aften tion As she finished speaking, his glands wont from her to the lowered hand of the cow,
If there's any new i' the world as 'nd do it it 'nd be Lightfoot!" he responded presently.
Mary loaut forward with greater eagerness
than ever
Yen beliavo the doos? Really and truly?" Tim had finished milking. He stood up and mechanically weighed his-pail.
"Lightfoot 'ud not be behind aud wi' other cows," he said with slow conviction. "What ever was expected of her she'd not fail to do it. If other cows-
Tim paused. He was dimly awar, all at onro, that bis feet were near holy ground: for he was a member of Father Calverley's flock, and worshipped, in vague, groping fashion, a Hoghton Church every Sunday morning. Look- ing, as Lightfoot, he suddenly, qud quite spontaneously, crossed himself.
Maybe, Miss Mary," he whispered in a half- frightened voice,
moyba
a Lightfoot knows more about the Lord than we do.'
But
Mary was not frightened, She went quite close up to Lightfoot, and laid hor thin sbild's face against the sow's neck.
credible. And then all at onse inexplicably, bewilderingly, she had found them in Love.
stained letter--she had fought so hard, and
She had fought he told all in her tear
pravel oarne
with her initiation into the man's order,
And then-the very day after she had finally Food to God her virginity she had yielded up har-body and soul to the devil, and had go away with her artist-lov
alserlay tortured himself again with the words Cicely was a wicked woman," I Father as he picked up his soft, broad-brimmed hat and went out.
"Asal I said as Lightfoot knew more o' the ways of the Lord nor we did."
He lifte his lantorn again, without betraying any surprise Lightfoot's further visitors. Cicely drow back into the shadows as he went on speaking to the priest, still ia a voice of
Wheth
What ware the words i' the book, Father, this afternoon? The words about each as were
simple
They had rushed to Eather Calverley's braia on a wave of emotion. He reposted them aloud, in husky tones.
"Only those who worship God with simple hearts may look upon this simple hearted adorn tion of his kine,"
"Agel Those wore the words porabip Ged with simple heirts, Praise to his namis !"
The air was intensely still with frost as Father Calverley made his way past the little stable
Tim, the half-witted, crossed himself again. aud cowshad of his vicarage. Though dark and silent, they seemed to betray, to some subtle and went away towards the Church. Cicely. so, the pressure of the warm, sleeping cane cut from the shadows with a brem tlons animals that their walls enclosed. Only a hand-oh, red yards away the slender spire of the church Ok, Paul, Pani, we came out together to sea stood up against the stars, and its windows it as little children! It is surely God who has showed along the dusky mask of the building, in. sont us the siga now!" shining colour and light.
Inside Lightfoot's puss crouched Tim Wil- kinson, tho half-witted He had a lantern with him, but he did not mean to light it until Lightfoot movet. The Korry lay comfortably among the straw. Tim thought that she was "I wonder if you do, Lightfoot!" she whis.listening for the hour of twelve to sound from. pered caressingly. "Oh! I wish that you could the Church clock. speak and tell us that you do."
Father Calverley was early, and he paused for
a moment to lift his sal storm fave to the stars. As he did so a shadow seemed to slide out from
Lightfoot turned her head slowly round in the direction of the child. Her eyes shone gently and luminously in the light of the lan-ths dusky depths of the night, and to define tern, She had found tho linased cake orosed. itelf to his eyes as a woman, with beat hooded head. The shadow paused, stood very still inglybador of a man's head and shoulders before him, and a voleo baad
suddenly appared betygen the star-strewn
Paol
Tho priest started violently. For a moment sky, uni the opon upper half of the cow shed his heart seamed to sinndstill. Then he recovered dour. It was Father Calverley, on his way his iron self-control. homeward from ministration in the village
the little rather isolated village sinong the without tremor.
felis, whose inhabitants had been Roman Catholic frem fime medieval. A conservative had little village truly und Father Calverley sprung from its soil, and was as conservative as
You, Cicely!" "Yeg. I
When he spoke, it was
The woman, too, was motionless as the man. subdood and sweat, cams to him
Her voice, the village itself a man severaly spiritual,stera-pon a sob. He heard her catch her breath a
ly beautiful, nad of magnetic dominating power. He spoke to the ohid and to the half-witted ilker, out of the star-piorced darkness, and his voice, lar and grave, seemed remote from the
mistiness of the lantoro-lit shod.
fra Mary, what have you bean rending to
Tim
Mary held up her book. "It
is Great Uncia Calverley's, I have been reading about the cows kneeling down in their stalis at midnight on Christmas Eve. Oh! Uncle Calverley, is it tras P
When I was your age, Mary, I was quite sure it was trae,"
"Did you ever see them ?" The child's Tofas was broathless.
"No. I never saw them. Give the book into my hands, Mary. I want to look at it for a
mowout.
The child drew to the door of the shippon and gave the priest the book. He laut forward into the dim light of the lantern, and his grave eyes parased page,
littlo in the darkness.
Very low, clearly, and evenly he spoke, again :
Why have you come hers p”
44
His ayen, grown used to the night, sow the movement of her hands as she held them out to litu.
"Paul! Your forgiveness!"
If the could have seen his facs she would
have found it white and set in inexorable seve zity. He kept his voice level, as he replied.
and
Have-you-repented? Have you left nim ? Have you come for confession, and absolution, Cicely, though the way to it must be long and penance? There is forgiveness to be won. very hard.""
She seemed to lift her head within its hood. At a girl she had had just such a trick of wild proud gesture,
"I have not left him. I never will. He is work for both of us, and he needs me very ill and poor, and cannot sell his pintures. I sorely. I have come neither for confession, nor absolation, nor pesanos. I have not come for
or counsel. I have come
You see what ways, Mary! Ouly those pela exhortate of
or
who worship God with simple hearts may look upen this simple-hear ed adoration of This kine Perhaps mens of
Her voice fell from príde into yearning. there was the movement of her hands
hearted enough to see them are simple towards him. He did not stir.
Mary heaved a deep sigh. Here uncle opened
the lower half of the door and bade her come to the house with Lin. As she walked beside him under the dark outlines of the bare trees she asked a question.
"How not simple enough, Uncle Calver, ley! You mean not good enough?"
Something of the kind, Mary. Taking
God's
of its hunger. Forgot your priesthood for s meat. Be a man, and nothing else. Your manhood cannot condoms me, whatever your priesthood does." !
“Ah, Peni, kiss me once, and ease my heart
Then his voice fellalowly, , inaxorably upon the
dark.
"It is with my manhood-with my tortured brotherhood that I condemn you most, Cissly. love and power enough for granted." You have broken your vows to God-you are The priest's face was gentler than usual in living in infamy-you are for your own sake I the darkness
He went on with the child, sud, must strike you with the words-you are a in the Cowshed, Tim, the half-witted, still
with his pail of frothing milk. He wicked wemaa.
lingered
stared at Lightfoot with large wondering
ม
He had told her deliberately, the truth as he
saw it-told her as a stern and terrible daty, in eyes. What we if that Father Calverley had the hope that his wrath and condamnation, now, said? Only the simple could sue it" And might possibly save her from the wrath and con
tra had affisi
Father Calverley, has face streaming with tonra, bo it dawa to her and kissed bor.
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