Belle Rose: A Romance of the Cloak and Sword — page 260: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

244 THE LAST HOUR. will tell him how I died. If he weeps over me, it seems to me that we shall not be separated forever——”’ Suzanne took the box from Gabrielle’s hands and con- cealed it under her dress. The day was about to dawn, and already the great trees were to be seen outlining their dark foliage upon the transparent sky. This long narrative had exhausted Gabrielle; she rested her head upon the pillow and closed her eyes. Toward noon, she called for the confessor. Suzanne ran to warn the superior, the bells of the convent began to sound the funeral-knell, and the sisters went to the chapel, where soon was heard the prayer for the dying. The Abbé St. Thomas d’Aquin, who was the convent’s confessor, went to Gabrielle’s cell, carrying the holy viaticum and preceded by a chorus child who shook a little silver bell. Suzanne opened the door to the pious procession; those of the sisters who were not in the chapel knelt in the corridor, and Gabrielle, at sight of the man of God, arose. The abbé, who was a pious and kind old man, approached the bed where Gabrielle was lying. The dying girl joined her hands and prepared for confession. The approach of death had spread over all her features an ineffable sweetness; a soft smile half parted her lips, and the virginal candor ‘of her forehead had a grace which no longer belonged to earth. At sight of this child, who was surrendering untroubled her soul to God, the old curé understood that he had nothing to pardon. ‘*Sneak, my daughter,’’ he said to her, in a kindly tone; ‘*soon you will be with Him who consoles and blesses, and you will pray for us.”’ Gabrielle related her life ina few words; the curé had known it for a long time; she had loved, she had suffered, she was going to die. No other noise was heard than the tinkling of the little silver bell, the distant murmur of the religious songs which floated in the air like a celestial harmony, and the stifled sobs of the young novices who were weeping around Suzanne. ‘*Go in peace, you who have not sinned!’’ said the abbé, extending his trembling hands over the bowed forehead of Gabrielle. The holy man took up the consecrated wafer and pre- sented it to Gabrielle. All heads were bowed. Mother Evangélique alone did not weep. Gabrielle smiled. After Gabrielle had taken the wafer, the old abbé placed in her hands a little ivory crucifix. Prayer filled the conven; with its divine murmurs, Suzanne looked at Gabrielle’, (E(0) > (ey) hh a (o