The Martyr’s Burial.
of the Good Shepherd looked brightly down on him. But he would not pass the threshold, where he stood striking his breast and praying for mercy.
The body had been laid upon the ground, and other psalms and hymns were sung, and prayers recited, all in that cheerful tone and joyous mood of hopefulness, with which the Church has always treated of death. At length it was placed in the tomb prepared for it, under an arch. While this was being done, Torquatus drew nigh to one of the spectators, and whispered to him the question:
“Whose funeral is this?”
“It is the deposition,” he answered, “of the blessed Cæcilia, a blind virgin, who this morning fell into the hands of the soldiers, in this cemetery, and whose soul God took to Himself.”
“Then I am her murderer,” he exclaimed, with a hollow moan; and staggering forward to the holy bishop’s feet, fell prostrate before him. It was some time before his feelings could find vent in words; when these came, they were the ones he had resolved to utter:
“Father, I have sinned before heaven, and against Thee, and I am not worthy to be called Thy child.”