To their number had lately been
added the mother of the son of Monseigneur, who was found lifeless on
the floor by the cradle of her infant, where, although ill, she dragged
herself to die, in the fullness of her delight at embracing him. These
had haunted the imagination of Angelique; she spoke of them as if they
were facts of recent occurrence, which might have happened the day
before. She had read the names of Laurette and of Balbine on old
memorial tablets let into the walls of the chapel. Then why should not
she also die young and very happy, as they had? The armouries would
glisten as now, the saint would come down from his place in the
stained-glass window, and she would be carried away to heaven on the
sweet breath of a kiss. Why not?
The "Golden Legend" had taught her this: Was not it true that the
miracle is really the common law, and follows the natural course of
events? It exists, is active, works with an extreme facility on
every occasion, multiplies itself, spreads itself out, overflows even
uselessly, as if for the pleasure of contradicting the self-evident
rules of Nature. Its power seems to be on the same plane as that of the
Creator. Albrigan, King of Edeese, writes to Jesus, who replies to him.
Pages:
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114