A pause.
“Yes,” said María, when the priest had given up all hope of a reply. “I forgive my husband whose infidelity has killed me.” And as she spoke the tears flowed down her cheeks.
“And her, too—the woman who has robbed you of your husband’s affection.—Do you forgive her?”
Paoletti stood waiting with his eyes fixed on the dying woman’s face. María closed hers in deep abstraction. The priest thought it was the end; he bent over her in great alarm. But presently he heard a sob which said: “Yes—her, too.”
“Then my beloved and noble daughter, if you forgive—which is the only way to expel the evil leaven from your soul, you will enter the gates of Heaven in triumph,” said the Padre in a voice of dramatic solemnity.
There could be no doubt that he held the key of those gates. Suddenly, inspired as it seemed by the supernatural influence the priest exercised over her, María rallied her strength and particularly her powers of voice. Even her pale cheeks recovered a tinge of colour which gave fresh brilliancy and eagerness to her eyes.
“Your words have given me new life!” she said, without difficulty. “I had a cloud, a veil before my eyes, and it has vanished; I see clearly—so clearly that I can only marvel at the mercies the Lord has vouchsafed to me in shedding this light on my soul, and know not how to thank Him. He has shown me the path by which I may go to Him, and called me with the voice of His loving kindness. I will follow—I come, I come, my God, Father and Redeemer, I clasp thy cross!”
“This, this is what I longed for, my beloved penitent and friend,” exclaimed the enraptured priest, while tears started to his eyes and ran down his cheeks. “Soon your spirit will dwell in the realms of eternal bliss. How blessed is it, my daughter, to have no fear of death, but, on the contrary, to look forward with joy to the moment when the last spark of this miserable existence is lost in the first radiance of a life of endless glory! Sweetest soul, purified by prayer, by unfailing piety, by heroic mortification of the evil within, by incessant absorption into the divine idea—spread your wings, whiter than sunlit clouds—fear not, soar upwards, fix your eyes on the goal, open your ears to the hymn that greets you, inhale the ineffable fragrance of Paradise, be bold to enter the fatherly presence of the Creator of the sun and stars—who will welcome you with the smile which gave birth to light itself, and receive you as a martyr and a saint.”
“Yes—” said María folding her hands calmly across her bosom. “I feel myself float upwards, and I can find no words to express my happiness. I feel as if I had already forgotten the language of this world and could not speak it. My last words still shall be that I forgive with all my heart, those who have sinned against me.”