The Storyteller

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXXVII, Issue 3, 21 January 1909, Page 83

The Storyteller

BACK TO THE FOLD

The smiling morn rose over the hill, calm and festal in Nature's uncontammated freshness .beneath the peaceful JK^t am f v t * rfvellerr f veller came 4long- the road, with W* !X rf ° n? **° had V" 1 * been wearied and embittered l?™lJ! Vrf°TV2 * ' r?( t m the s " ns^e, stretched his ii d ° Ver th ?,}™}™s g^en of the pastures! Nature had never wronged him, only life had been so unspeakably hard It had put him in the world iHu£ poverty that he had to wrestle and fight for every crum that he ate, for every scrap of knowledge that he learned - for every upward step that .he took on the ladder. -And ™wi + i i°^ ed back ' glad and P ro « d > o a the way that lay behind him, on the home *nd position he had io destroyTl J6 "?* * nfdlicio " s a » d i<^°™ fate ' v A Te ? tless i™^ tad mastered him and .never let him -go; he must wander and wander. Wherever heTwent he shunned other people; if he could not avoid them, he J^LTT^ £l e f'- B -S „he - c saw only what - Le wi^ ed to see, what fitted m with his dominant idea: 'No truth and no love.' • ■ w Towards, midday he became hungry, and went to the nearest .mountain hut. Three girls were sitting at table ' ml pping the , ir spoons in common into a dish full of milk* Ihey were shyly embarrassed when' the , gentleman asked for something to eat. He was- certainly -W^ard to pleasesome bread and mountain cheese and -a- 'glass of new milk sufficed for his needs. He .sat silent and^apart, and by degrees the girls began to chatter again. They spoke in low tones. Tonerl, from the Rieder-Alm, had falleifdown a precipice over there, and had_been terribly injured ' Already he had lam senseless for 24 hours.; ~lf "he lasted two days more it was all one could expect '■-' ' - Suddenly a man stood' at the dobrf It was the brother of the injured one. *v _, • ' Please, will one of you run- to St. Martin to teg the Pfarrer (parish priest) to come?' * One of the girls who herded the cows "at once rose Is Tonerl still — with you f" ~ • ' Yes, but he will not live much longer.' - The stranger sat down outside the?mountain hut, while the girl ran down into the valley. - - Three hours later the girl came hack. . She was very hot, and great drops of sweat were falling from her forehead. ' - 'How you have run!' said Teresa, one of her companions. ' And the Pfarrer ?'■ <Is himself in bed, and so ill that he cannot take • a step. It came on him last night.' - ' ' Jesus, Maria ! It is sad for Tonerl. Sit down and cet cool. I will go to the Rieder-Alm.' , .-,- , . Teresa took the path through the I 'pine trees towards the highest mountain hut. Franz Helwart raised himself.' He. did not know why it was, but he wished to see how the matter would go He followed close behind the, girl, up the hill. Tonerl iky in the back ,room, with the window open, and the traveller could catch every word. When the slick man heard that the Pfarrer could not come,^he - began' tb lament loudly he could not die without a priest. - 1' 'If our own Herr Pfarrer cannot come, fetch me^-fche curate from St. Blasien,' he begged at last. l -- 1 The pother shook his head. . 'It takes six hours to go there and six hours back. lir twelve hours you will never be here, Tonerl.' . . > , « 'Then the old Pfarrer must come!' exclaimed the sick man in the greatest excitement. * ' 'Be stilland calm,- Tonerl,' besought Teresa. <We • pra 7 f S r a , good re Pentance. Our Lord God regards the good will; He is merciful, and will forgive you all.' -But "the sick man became even more excited- it was difficult 'to keep him in bed.- At last the brother got ur> 'I will try again at -St. Martin,' he said. 'Our Lord God reward you!' cried Tonerl, thankfuliy. Teresa/ shoot her head. Before her eyes rose the picture of the old sick Herr Pfarrer, scarcely better than the dying man here on the Rieder-Alm. Then she knelt down beside the bed and began softly to say the rosary The sick man now lay wearied and exhausted. * A lone hour went by. Suddenly the room became dark. . - • ' What is that? Are my eyes closing in death?' cried the terrified Tonerl. ' < < . ' No, but a storm is coming,' sighed Teresa. And even while she spoke the wind rose suddenly The windows rattled ; thick drops fell, at first solwly and separately, then the storm broke loose. :The rain came rushme: down; in the distance, thunder rumbled between the ligh£

ning- flashes. The stronger sat in' the hut, seeking shelter. The door of the sick-room was partly open, so that he could clearly see the dying man without being observed by him. . ' I am abandoned by God and nianl' lamented the suf „ ferer. After a pause he composed himself in the bed, looking out. with fixed eyes. C I am truly sorry,' he groaned, • ' that . I have done bliis . . . and that . . . and that . „.' Thus he began' to count up his sins. Teresa looked shyly at the stranger, and tried to-com-fort the cowherd with the thought of God's'mercy. ' .tfranz Helwart drank in the solemn scene with all his mind, with' every fibre of his heart. It was this that had been burned into his very being for the last twenty years. In all climes, in the great cities, and now on this homely height, was the same miserable story: 'No faith, no love.' In the stable near at hand he could hear a cow lowing for her calf that had been, taken from her; but the consecrated, appointed shepherd was leaving his sheep to die all helpless. The very heaven, with this blustering storm, was making it harder. Could the old pastor really not come? That was a poor excuse to make to the dying lad in the next room. Two hours alter blie brother's departure the thunder ceased, but the rain and stormy wind still continued. About 6 o'clock the sick man said : ' Vincent could surely have been back long ago. I am nearly at the end.' The twilight began to gather within 'the hut, and the girl lighted the lamp before the crucifix ; its long, ghostly shadows, and those of -a consecrated branch of palm, stole across the- wall and the bed where the sufferer lay. . ' God help me!'" groaned the dying man. 'Let me not die without the holy sacraments.' His hair stood on end, and his wide-open eyes seemed starting out of their sockets. The stranger could scarcely bear the sight any longer. If it had. not been for the darkness, he would have left the mountain. Little by little the rain ceased, but it was very dark. It seemed to him like passing from uproar to calm; from bondage to_>f reedom ; but 'there, in the povertystricken hut, was wrestling one to whom there" could be no deliverance. v The deep stillness was suddenly broken by distant footsteps, probably those of the brother coming home after his vain endeavor. He was right; the man was not hurrying. Unpleasant news always travels quickly enough. So thought the embittered traveller. But — that was not the footstep of one single pedestrian; it was the regular tramp of a whole group of men. It came from the direction of the village down in the valley. Franz could now hear. lowered voices, like a faroff chorus of prayer. Across the rocky steep, along -the narrow path that - wound up the mountain-side, long shadows were stretching^ The stranger went a hundred paces to meet the newcomers. Then he saw that they carried a stretcher, and heard clearly the once familiar words of the rosary. 'Another accident already!' hethought. ' That is the shady side of these Alpine regions.' The same moment he was observed by one of the bearers, who called to him. ' Tell them at the Rieder-Alm that the Pfarrer is coming.' The Pfarrer ! As if his own soul were in question, the stranger flew back to the hut. ' Tonerl, the Pfarrer from St. Martin will be here directly!' The dying man could scarcely- raise himself to hear the approaching procession. — thefiTm, even step, and the men's prayers. They stopped in front of the hut. • The stranger had come outside, and saw them set down the stretcher before the lower door. Was it the light of the mopn on the Pfarrer's face, as he lay there with closed eyes, his hands crossed over the Pyx upon his heart, or had the bearers brought a dead body hither? A shiver ran through the man who had broken alike with God and with his fellow-men."" But, no ; the priest opened his eyes and looked calmly around. His gaze fell on Franz Helwart. It was an indescribable look, which the stranger never forgot — a look in which were mingled pain, resignation, love, and, above all, an unspeakable joy that he was come there. They placed the stretcher close to Tonerl's bed, under the shadow of the crucifix.- The two men lay side by side — the shepherd, who had toiled even to death, beside his dying sheep. ~ And while the cow herd breathed his last confession into the ear of the sick Tfarrer, .the men stood aside, and Vincent related to Teresa how it' had all happened. When the Pfarrer heard how urgently .Tonerl longed for him, he had painfully dressed himself; they had carried him into the church for the Blessed Sacrament, and had brought the old priest hither through 'wind and storm, praying that he might not die on the way. Teresa now glanced through the closed window, and saw Tonerl beckoning with his hand. They went into the

chamber -of death— first the brother, then the young girl, 'and the stranger immediately behind her. ' It has cost him his life,' said Tonerl, with a motion of his hands towards the Pfarrer lying beside him.- ' - As the sun roso, red with the joyful glow of morning, they bore the two, the shepherd_ and the resciied sheep, down into the valley. And behind the double bier walked one avlio had come from afar and yet "was no stranger, one who had strayed outside the fold and, like the dead cowherd, had been brought home upon the shoulders of the true Shepherd. — Aye. Maria.