The Children's Longfellow / Told in Prose

by Doris Hayman; Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

So they turned their steeds thither, and just as the sun was setting they reached a green meadow by the riverside. There the preacher knelt in prayer and with him a multitude of people. The travelers joined reverently in the prayers, and when the service was over, the priest came to welcome the strangers and offered them shelter and a share of his frugal meal of wheaten cakes and spring water. Afterwards they told the priest their story, and he said: "Only six days ago Gabriel sat by my side and told me this same sad tale, then he continued his journey. He has gone far to the north, but in autumn when the hunting is over he will return to the Mission."

Then Evangeline pleaded: "Let me remain with thee, for my soul is sad and afflicted." This seemed to the others a wise thing to do, so thus it was arranged. Early on the morrow Basil returned homewards and Evangeline stayed on at the Mission.

Slowly and wearily the days passed by, and Evangeline lived and worked at the Mission till autumn drew on. But still Gabriel did not come, and the maiden lived on there till the following summer. Then a rumor reached her ears that Gabriel had encamped in a far distant forest, and Evangeline took leave of her friends at the Mission and set forth again to seek her lover, but when she reached the hunter's lodge she found it deserted and fallen to ruin.

And now her weary pilgrimage began anew. Her wanderings led her through towns and villages, now she tarried a while in mission tents, now she tended the sick and wounded in the camp of a battlefield. As the years went on, her beauty faded and streaks of gray appeared in her dark hair. She was fair and young when she began her long journey, faded and old when it ended in disappointment.

At length poor Evangeline grew weary of wandering through strange places and resolved to end her days in the city founded by the great preacher, Penn. Here other of the Acadian exiles had settled, and Evangeline felt that there was something homelike in the pleasant streets of the little city and the friendly speech of the Quakers.

There for many years she dwelt as a Sister of Mercy, bringing hope and comfort to the poor and suffering ones. Then it came to pass that a terrible pestilence fell on the city and thousands perished. The poor crept away to die in the almshouse, and thither by night and day came the Sister of Mercy to tend them.

One Sabbath morning Evangeline passed through the deserted streets and entered the gates of the almshouse. On her way she paused to pluck some flowers from the garden, that the dying might be comforted by their fragrance. As she mounted the stairs she heard the chime of church-bells and the sound of distant psalm-singing, and a deep calm came over her soul, for something within her seemed to say, "At length thy trials are ended!"

Suddenly, as she was passing down the wards, she stood still and uttered a cry of anguish. On the pallet before her lay an old man with long gray hair, and, as she gazed, she saw that this was none other than her lover, Gabriel. She knelt by his bedside and the dying man opened his eyes and tried to whisper her name, but his strength was spent, and with one last look he passed away from her.

Evangeline's weary quest was over; sweetly and patiently she took up her life again and henceforth lived only for others. And now, in the little Catholic churchyard of this far-away city, side by side the lovers are sleeping.