It is true he had asked
in grief and love, still he had asked. Partly because of the bitterness
of it all, partly because of his long fasthe had not been able to eat
his mid-day meal of beans and bread--he felt ready to faint, and his
sight was troubled. He sank down on the decayed threshold of a small,
closed door, at the entrance to the little lane called _della Corte_. A
long peal of thunder sounded above his head.
Little by little, as he rested, he recovered. He thought of the man who
was dying in the desire of Christ, and a wave of sweetness swept
his soul. He was filled with remorse that he had, for a few moments
forgotten the Lord's great gift; that he had ceased to love the cross,
as soon as he had drawn life and joy from it. He hid his face in his
hands and wept silently. A slight noise above of a shutter being opened;
something soft fell upon his head. With a start, he removed his hands
from his eyes; at his feet lay a tiny wild rose. He shivered! For
several days--either on returning to his hut at night, or on leaving
it in the morning--he had found flowers on his threshold.
Pages:
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310