THE GUARDIAN ANGEL.
To the charming freshness of the sisters' faces had succeeded a livid pallor.Their large blue eyes, now hollow and sunk in, appeared of enormous dimensions.Their lips, once so rosy, were now suffused with a violet hue, and a similar color was gradually displacing the transparent carmine of their cheeks and fingers.It was as if all the roses in their charming countenances were fading and turning blue before the icy blast of death.
When the orphans met, tottering and hardly able to sustain themselves, a cry of mutual horror burst from their lips.Each of them exclaimed, at sight of the fearful change in her sister's features."Are you also ill, sister?" And then, bursting into tears, they threw themselves into each other's arms, and looked anxiously at one another.
"Good heaven, Rose! how pale you are!"
"Like you, sister."
"And do you feel a cold shudder?"
"Yes, and my sight fails me."
"My bosom is all on fire."
"Sister, we are perhaps going to die."
"Let it only be together!"
"And our poor father?"
"And Dagobert?"
"Sister, our dream has come true!" cried Rose, almost deliriously, as she threw her arms round Blanche's neck."Look! look! the Angel Gabriel is here to fetch us."
Indeed, at this moment, Gabriel entered the open space at the end of the room."Heaven! what do I see?" cried the young priest."The daughters of Marshal Simon!"
And, rushing forward, he received the sisters in his arms, for they were no longer able to stand.Already their drooping heads, their half-closed eyes, their painful and difficult breathing, announced the approach of death.Sister Martha was close at hand.She hastened to respond to the call of Gabriel.Aided by this pious woman, he was able to lift the orphans upon a bed reserved for the doctor in attendance.For fear that the sight of this mournful agony should make too deep an impression on the other patients, Sister Martha drew a large curtain, and the sisters were thus in some sort walled off from the rest of the room.Their hands had been so tightly clasped together, during a nervous paroxy**, that it was impossible to separate them.It was in this position that the first remedies were applied--remedies incapable of conquering the violence of the disease, but which at least mitigated for a few moments the excessive pains they suffered, and restored some faint glimmer of perception to their obscured and troubled senses.At this moment, Gabriel was leaning over the bed with a look of inexpressible grief.With breaking heart, and face bathed in tears, he thought of the strange destiny, which thus made him a witness of the death of these girls, his relations, whom but a few months before he had rescued from the horrors of the tempest.In spite of his firmness of soul, the missionary could not help shuddering as he reflected on the fate of the orphans, the death of Jacques Rennepont, and the fearful devices by which M.Hardy, retired to the cloistered solitude of St.Herein, had become a member of the Society of Jesus almost in dying.The missionary said to himself, that already four members of the Rennepont family--his family--had been successively struck down by some dreadful fate; and he asked himself with alarm, how it was that the detestable interests of the Society of Loyola should be served by a providential fatality? The astonishment of the young missionary would have given place to the deepest horror, could he have known the part that Rodin and his accomplices had taken, both in the death of Jacques Rennepont, by exciting, through Morok, the evil propensities of the artisan, and in the approaching end of Rose and Blanche, by converting, through the Princess de Saint-Dizier, the generous inspirations of the orphans into suicidal heroism.
Roused for a moment from the painful stupor in which they had been plunged, Rose and Blanche half-opened their large eyes, already dull and faded.Then, more and more bewildered they both gazed fixedly at the angelic countenance of Gabriel.
"Sister," said Rose, in a faint voice, "do you see the archangel--as in our dreams, in Germany?"
"Yes--three days ago--he appeared to us."
"He is come to fetch us."
"Alas! will our death save our poor mother from purgatory?"
"Angel! blessed angel! pray God for our mother--and for us!" Until now, stupefied with amazement and sorrow, almost suffocated with sobs, Gabriel had not been able to utter a word.But at these words of the orphans, he exclaimed: "Dear children, why doubt of your mother's salvation? Oh!
never did a purer soul ascend to its Creator.Your mother? I know from my adopted father, that her virtues and courage were the admiration of all who knew her.Oh! believe me; God has blessed her."
"Do you hear, sister?" cried Rose, as a ray of celestial joy illumined for an instant the livid faces of the orphans."God has blessed our mother."
"Yes, yes," resumed Gabriel; "banish these gloomy ideas.Take courage, poor children! You must not die.Think of your father."
"Our father?" said Blanche, shuddering; and she continued, with a mixture of reason and wild excitement, which would have touched the soul of the most indifferent: "Alas! he will not find us on his return.Forgive us, father! we did not think to do any harm.We wished, like you, to do something generous--to help our governess."
"And we did not think to die so quickly, and so soon.Yesterday, we were gay and happy."
"Oh, good angel! you will appear to our father, even as you have appeared to us.You will tell him that, in dying--the last thought of his children--was of him."
"We came here without Dagobert's knowing it--do not let our father scold him."
"Blessed angel!" resumed the other sister in a still more feeble voice;
"appear to Dagobert, also.Tell him, that we ask his forgiveness, for the grief our death will occasion him."
"And let our old friend caress our poor Spoil-sport for us--our faithful guardian," added Blanche, trying to smile.
