Oh, trumpet of the Judgment Day, what is thy blare to the sinner, compared to the gentle words of pardoning love from a wounded breast?
The countess was overpowered by the mild, merciful judgment.--
A living lane had formed in front of the theatre. He was to be carried home, rumor said, and the people were waiting in a dense throng to see him. At last a movement ran through the ranks. "He is coming! Is he alive? Yes, they say he is!"
Slowly and carefully the men bore out the litter on which he lay, pale and motionless as a dead man. The pastor walked on one side, and on the other, steadying his head, the countess. She could scarcely walk, but she did not avert her eyes from him.
As on the way to Golgotha, low sobs greeted the little procession. "Oh, dear, poor fellow! Ah, just one look, one touch of the hand," the people pleaded. "Wait just one moment."
As if by a single impulse the bearers halted and the people pressed forward with throbbing hearts, modestly, reverently touching the hanging coverlet, and gazing at him with tearful eyes full of unutterable grief.
The countess, with a beautiful impulse of humanity, gently drew his hand from under the wraps and held it to the sorrowing spectators who had waited so long, that they might kiss it--and every one who could get near enough eagerly drank from the proffered beaker of love. Grateful eyes followed the countess and she felt their benediction with the joy of the saints when God lends their acts the power of divine grace. She was now a beggar, yet never before had she been rich enough to bestow such alms: "Yes, kiss his hand--he deserves it!" she whispered, and her eyes beamed with a love which was not of this earth, yet which blended her, the world, and everything it contained into a single, vast, fraternal community!
Freyer smiled at her--and now she bore the sweet, tender gaze, for she felt as if a time might come when she would again deserve it.
At last they reached the pretty quiet house where she had that morning hired lodgings for him and herself. Mourning love had followed him to the spot, the throng had increased so that the bearers could scarcely get in with the litter. "Farewell--poor sufferer, may God be with you," fell from every lip as he was borne in and the door closed behind him.
The spacious room on the lower floor received the invalid. The landlady had hurriedly prepared the bed and he was laid in it. As the soft pillows arranged by careful hands yielded to the weary form, and his wife bent over him, supporting his head on her arm--he glanced joyously around the circle, unable to think or say anything except: "Oh, how comfortable I am!" They turned away to hide their emotion.