The Story and Song of Black Roderick

by Dora Sigerson Shorter

"And why doth thou fear death for him," said the Virgin Mary, "since it may bring to him the happiness of heaven?"

"Alas!" said the little bride, "were it thus, his cries would not hurt my heart so that I cannot hear the song of the angels. I fear he is lost forever."

"And what canst thou do, little soul," said the Blessed Mary, "to save him if he cannot save himself?"

"I can be with him in his destruction."

Now, as the little soul said this terrible thing she fell forward upon her face, so afraid was she and so despairing.

"I can stand between him and the flames," said she, "and hold my hand beneath the burning waters that would fall upon his body."

And then she lay silent.

Then the Virgin looked upon her with eyes that were all pitiful and had much understanding.

"Thou wilt suffer," saith she, as though remembering something, "to walk by his side and see his anguish, but thou wouldst suffer more wert thou forbidden this."

So Mary rose from her high place and went towards the high throne of heaven, and as she passed the whirling wings of the seraphim and cherubim ceased to circle, but flew towards her from the throne. And to the little bride, who crouched afraid on the fragrant floor, it seemed as though a great wonder of bees had settled on some hidden sweet; countless wings glistened and flashed in the strange light that glowed from the opening flowers that formed the floor about the throne.