“But not the less am I maimed for freedom’s sake. O, Sophia! what would you have had me do? Think of the oath! Think of the twenty-five years of vowed service——”
Sophia started up, and with a struggle repressed a fierce cry which had began to burst from her lips. She turned her eyes upon her brother with a look of unutterable hatred, and walked away down a winding path, in an opposite direction from the group behind the altar.
Ernest drew near to the despairing Taddeus, and was about to communicate his marvellous news; but the brother could not for a moment cease pouring out his boiling thoughts to one who understood their misery.
“To be so hated,—to be so wronged! And to be able to offer no excuse that does not pierce her heart, and make her passion more bitter than ever! And to think how more unhappy she is than even I——”
“We must lead her to embrace your consolation, and mine, and that of all of us. Come to our worship. Let it compose you, and perhaps she may return and listen. Perhaps she may find in it something——”
“Let it go on,” said Taddeus. “The more wretched we are, the more need for prayer. My mother, too, listens for her children’s voices, and she shall not have to mourn for all.”
So saying, the two friends summoned their companions, and there, in a few moments, might be heard the mingled voices, ringing clear from the steep through the still midnight air, as they chaunted their prayer:—
God!—Scorched by battle-fires we stand
Before thee on thy throne of snows;
But, Father! in this silent land,