CHAPTER XCIX
A PRIEST is never more thoroughly a priest than in the chamber of death.Gerard did the last offices of the Church for the departed, just as heshould have done them for his smallest parishioner. He did thismechanically, then sat down stupefied by the sudden and tremendous blow;and not yet realizing the pangs of bereavement. Then in a transport ofreligious enthusiasm he kneeled and thanked Heaven for her Christianend.
And then all his thought was to take her away from strangers, and layher in his own churchyard. That very evening a covered cart with onehorse started for Gouda, and in it was a coffin, and a broken-heartedman lying with his arms and chin resting on it.
The mourner's short-lived energy had exhausted itself in the necessarypreparations, and now he lay crushed, clinging to the cold lead thatheld her.
The man, of whom the cart was hired, walked by the horse's head, and didnot speak to him, and when he baited the horse spoke but in a whisper,respecting that mute agony. But, when he stopped for the night, he andthe landlord made a well-meaning attempt to get the mourner away to takesome rest and food. But Gerard repulsed them, and, when they persisted,almost snarled at them, like a faithful dog, and clung to the cold leadall night. So then they drew a cloak over him, and left him in peace.
And at noon the sorrowful cart came up to the manse, and there were fulla score of parishioners collected with one little paltry trouble oranother. They had missed the parson already. And when they saw what itwas, and saw their healer so stricken down, they raised a loud wail ofgrief, and it roused him from his lethargy of woe, and he saw where hewas, and their faces, and tried to speak to them. "Oh my children! mychildren!" he cried; but choked with anguish could say no more.
Yet the next day, spite of all remonstrances, he buried her himself, andread the service with a voice that only trembled now and then. Manytears fell upon her grave. And when the service ended he stayed therestanding like a statue, and the people left the churchyard out ofrespect.
He stood like one in a dream, till the sexton, who was, as most men are,a fool, began to fill in the grave without giving him due warning.
But at the sound of earth falling on her, Gerard uttered a piercingscream.
The sexton forbore.
Gerard staggered and put his hand to his breast. The sexton supportedhim, and called for help.
Jorian Ketel, who lingered near, mourning his benefactress, ran into thechurchyard, and the two supported Gerard into the manse.
"Ah, Jorian! good Jorian!" said he, "something snapped within me; I feltit, and I heard it: here Jorian, here:" and he put his hand to hisbreast.
The Cloister and the Hearth: A Tale of the Middle Ages Page 101
