The morning broke over the pine-tops, and over the towers of the city, and on the Lady watching beside her sleeping boy, and on the Jewish maiden sleeping the sleep of death.
And with the morning broke peals of bells from every tower in the city, and every lonely chapel scattered through the far-off glades of the forest.
Easter Bells.
The Passion Week had come and passed, unheeded, whilst the Lady sat and watched through her agony with the dying girl.
And now the Easter burst on her with a glad surprise, as if it had been the first; as if the tidings of Resurrection had now first burst on her from heaven.
The Lord has risen indeed.
It was true. His Sepulchre was empty. But heaven and earth were full of Him, and of His glory.
"Mother," said her boy, when they rose from their morning prayer together, "what do all these joy-bells mean? Is it a king's marriage, or a great victory? Can it be that they have rescued the Holy Sepulchre from the infidel at last?"