Chapter II: Part 2

_But Sheila leaves my chair to go,
And flings the shutter wide;
"Be it for me," she whispers low,
"The banshee keened and cried."_

_God be between our house and harm,
For trouble comes full fleet.
I hold the babe close in my arm;
The fairy in the street._

But the wind that blew from the hill-side carried the keening of the little bride past the village, and blew it about the windows of the castle wherein Black Roderick dwelt. And as the cry keened and called, so did the sleepers turn in their beds and moan uneasily in their dreaming.

When the cry passed the windows of the east, it went to the windows of the west, and there it tapped softly with fingers of the wind and called three times:

"Roderick! Roderick! Roderick!"

And at the first call Black Roderick turned in his bed and groaned. And at the second call he rose from his couch and said, in his anger:

"Who calleth, and will not let me rest?"

But at the third call he rose and went to the window in wonder, and seeing nothing he crept cold and trembling to his bed, muttering the half-forgotten prayers of his childhood; so long he lay in fear and amazement that he did not sleep till the lark hung singing in the heavens, and then he knew the night was gone and with it the ghosts that hide in the darkness. So he turned his face to the wall and slept. But the spirit of the little bride was speeding on her swift and terrible race to Paradise, and round her whirled three great black birds seeking for her destruction. And as she flew, one caught her by the long hair that swept behind her in the wind and drew her backward.

"Now," quoth she with a cry, "I can fly upward no longer; some evil thing draws me back from heaven."

And as she spoke a voice came out of the dark skies, and said:

"Who holdeth back the passing soul?"

And the voice of the dark bird replied:

"Her anger, for she hath not submitted to her trials, but held herself rebellious; therefore do I draw her down."

And the voice from high paradise called out, saying:

"Is there none to come to her succor, lest she be brought to her destruction?"

And a bee humming on the hillside, hearing the voice, flew upward and stung the evil bird so it fell away into the darkness and was seen no more.

And the voice from the heavens cried again, saying:

"Who hath let the little soul go free?"

And the bee answered:

"Her gentleness, for she loveth all things, great and small, and hath fed the honey-bee when the earth refused him its sweets."

Now, as the spirit of the little bride flew upward, freed from the grasp of the evil bird, there came upon her again the cruel claws of one of those two others that circled round her, holding her back upon her way.

"Now," quoth she, "I shall never see the kingdom of heaven, and cannot reach the doors of paradise," and bitter exceedingly was her crying.

But again a voice came from the dark night, saying:

"Who holdeth back the coming soul from her place in heaven?"

And the black, evil bird answered:

"Her despair, for she hath not held her head high above her sorrows, nor hath borne in patience her griefs, but hath mourned the afflictions that were put upon her till her heart hath broken under her grief. Therefore do I draw her down."

And the voice from high paradise called out, saying:

"Is there none, then, to save her from eternal destruction?"

And a wild bramble upon the mountain, hearing the voice, lifted itself upward, and, throwing a long spray about the evil bird, tore it so with its thorns that it loosed its claws from the wrist of the young bride and flew into the gloom.

And the voice from the heavens cried again, saying:

"Who hath let the soul go free?"

And the bramble answered, wafting the perfume of her flowers upward:

"Her sweetness, for her mind is beautiful as the song of the linnet, and she turneth her foot aside to spare the lowly blossoms."

Now, when once more the spirit of the little bride flew upward, the last and greatest of the evil birds fell upon her, and so strong was he and so evil that she had no strength to go farther.

"Now," quoth she, "I am lost forever, and shall see not the fair place in paradise that was prepared for me." And she gave a loud and despairing cry. But a voice came again from the night, and saith:

"What evil thing keepeth the flying soul upon its way?"

And the dark bird answered:

"Her jealousy, for bitter was her heart against one whom Black Roderick had loved ere she became his bride; and for this do I drag her down to her destruction."

And the voice from the high heavens spoke, saying:

"Is there none, then, to save her?"

And there looked up from the hillside the bright eyes of the red weasel, but he crouched in the grasses without reply. And the grasp of the evil bird became stronger on the quivering soul that could no longer fly upon its way to heaven. And from the great wings of the bird black feathers, wrenched out in the struggle, flew down upon the earth, spreading evil where they fell.

And the voice from heaven cried out again in sorrow exceedingly:

"Is there none, then, to save this soul from destruction?"

And the bee and the bramble, seeing the red weasel was loath to stir from the grasses where he sat watching the desperate battle, fell upon him in their fury and forced him to rise.

"Never," quoth they, "shalt thou have rest, nor thy children's children peace, while there's a bee in the air or a flower upon the thorn, if thou goest not to the succor of her we love so well."

Then the red weasel sprang into the air and seized the evil bird by the throat; so he let go his hold on the spirit of the young bride and flew away into the darkness.

And the voice from heaven cried out, saying:

"Who hath let the frail ghost free to enter the gates of paradise?"

And the red weasel answered:

"Her strength, for she hath conquered her own evil thoughts, and put them away forever."

So the spirit of the young bride reached the gates of paradise spent and wounded, and there upon the threshold stood an angel holding his hand to draw her in.

When his holy touch fell upon her, she rose whole and beautiful, and her breast was full of joy for the moment.

Now, the spirit of the young bride had been but a brief day in the golden place of paradise, when she heard a far voice call upon her name in anguish; three times did it call upon her, and at each cry a sharp sorrow struck her heart, as though a knife had entered therein.

Now went she to the golden bar of heaven, and, leaning forth, looked down upon the earth, and she turned her north, and naught did she see save the cold face of the night with its millions of worlds whirling in the dark. And she looked south, and naught could she see but the gray of clouds heavy with storm; and she turned her east, and naught did she see save the shimmering blue of a summer sky. But when she turned her westward, she saw the green earth, and of all upon it she sought none save Black Roderick, who had used her so ill. And there upon his bed he lay in danger of death, and as he turned in his anguish he called ever upon her name, so her heart knew no longer the peace of paradise, and she became as one of the lost.

Therefore did she rise up and approach the throne where the saints and angels knelt in continual devotion. But she could not see the golden seat, nor HIM who sat thereon. For around and above, and circling ever with rainbow wings, went the seraphim and cherubim in eternal worship, so it was as though a great wheel of light turned continually.

Now, when the spirit of the little bride saw this wonder, she was full of fear and dared not approach, but turned away weeping; and there, as she wept, she saw before her the seat of Mary, the Queen of Heaven, and ran towards it with unfaltering feet.

"For," quoth she, "she, too, had but one love, and, being woman, will understand."

So she knelt at the feet of Mary, and cried to her: "Pray for me, Mother of Christ." And the Virgin turned to her in wonder at her tears.

"Art thou not happy," said she, "in heaven?"

And the spirit of the little bride said: "Nay, for the cries of my beloved come upward from the earth and call to me in his anguish, so I fear he is in danger of death."

"And why doth thou fear death for him," said the Virgin Mary, "since it may bring to him the happiness of heaven?"

"Alas!" said the little bride, "were it thus, his cries would not hurt my heart so that I cannot hear the song of the angels. I fear he is lost forever."

"And what canst thou do, little soul," said the Blessed Mary, "to save him if he cannot save himself?"

"I can be with him in his destruction."

Now, as the little soul said this terrible thing she fell forward upon her face, so afraid was she and so despairing.

"I can stand between him and the flames," said she, "and hold my hand beneath the burning waters that would fall upon his body."

And then she lay silent.

Then the Virgin looked upon her with eyes that were all pitiful and had much understanding.

"Thou wilt suffer," saith she, as though remembering something, "to walk by his side and see his anguish, but thou wouldst suffer more wert thou forbidden this."

So Mary rose from her high place and went towards the high throne of heaven, and as she passed the whirling wings of the seraphim and cherubim ceased to circle, but flew towards her from the throne. And to the little bride, who crouched afraid on the fragrant floor, it seemed as though a great wonder of bees had settled on some hidden sweet; countless wings glistened and flashed in the strange light that glowed from the opening flowers that formed the floor about the throne.

In and out, striking together in their eagerness to get nearer their desire, went the countless wings of the angel hosts.

And from the throne all the time there came forth a low singing like the humming of bees. As the little bride listened there came to her ears the voice of the Virgin praying for her before the throne of God, and in the pauses of the prayer the countless voices of the fluttering seraphim and cherubim took up the refrain, "Hear us, O Christ."

Now suddenly all sound ceased, and the fluttering wings moved aside, and from their midst strode out a mighty angel of the Lord; and when he came upon the frightened soul of the little bride he took her by the hand, and, leading her to the gates of heaven, opened them that she might go forth.

But ere she could pass out he said, with great sadness:

"Thy little hands and feet are soft with the fragrant places of heaven; much wilt thou suffer if thou goest forth."

And again he said:

"How canst thou leave the beauty and love of paradise, wherein thou mayst enter no more save thou art strong enough to conquer great dangers?"

But the little soul listened not to him, but passed through the gates in eager hurry. And as she went the angel followed her with his gaze; and so great was his pity--for he thought she might not re-enter the kingdom of heaven--that tears fell from his eyes upon her hand. Now, when the little bride went forth from the gates of heaven a chill wind blew upon her, so she wellnigh fell upon the earth in anguish; but she took the two tears that had fallen from the angel's eyes and hid them in her heart, and she became warm, and the sharp earth did not hurt her feet, nor did the wind of the cold world harm her.

Now, when the spirit of the little bride came to the gates of the castle wherein dwelt Black Roderick, she saw the great changes that had come to pass therein, for the day that had fallen to her in paradise was as seven years on earth.

With her death had come strife and disunion among the clans, and now at the walls stood the soldiers of her father, and within on his death-bed the Black Earl who was dying, a prisoner in their hands.

And as the little bride came to the gates of the garden without the courtyard, she saw before them a strange and horrible coach. And the only light that came from this dark carriage was from the red eyes of the six horses who drew it, and their trappings swept the ground, black and mouldy. Now, the body of this coach was shaped like a coffin, and at the head sat the driver.

When the little bride gazed upon him in wonder who he could be, she saw through the misty winding-sheet that enfolded him a death's head. But when she looked at him who sat at the foot of the coffin, she hid her face, for it was an evil creature who crouched here.

Now, as the little bride paused at the gate of the garden a voice came from inside, and said:

"Wherefore comest thou?"

And he who sat at the foot of the coffin answered:

"Open, for I claim the soul of Black Roderick."

And the voice that was within answered:

"Thou shalt come, for his cruelty hath driven my young daughter to her grave, wherein she lieth while the birds sing, and the flowers blossom, and the earth is glad with youth and spring."

So he dropped the bolt and the door swung open, so the coach and its six horses entered.

Now, when the driver reached the door of the court-yard, he found it closed against him, and he drew his coach up beside it and called in a hollow voice for entrance.

And one cried from inside:

"Wherefore comest thou?"

And he who was inside answered:

"I claim the soul of Black Roderick."

And the voice replied:

"Willingly do I open, for he hath slain my sweet sister with his chill heart and cruel ways, so she lieth in the dark earth who was the sunshine of our house."

Then the door swung open so the black coach and its six horses could enter.

Again the strange coach drove on, till it came to the castle door, and there the evil being who was inside cast himself upon the ground, and, going to the door, knocked thereon three times, and a woman's voice answered, saying:

"Who art thou?"

And the evil one replied:

"I am he who claims the soul of Black Roderick."

And the woman said:

"Welcome thou art, then, for he hath destroyed my heart's treasure and buried it in the ground; so I go sorrowing all my days for the suffering he caused her on earth, and for her young and unready death."

Then the bolts and the bars fell from the door with a great noise, and the evil thing entered the castle.

Now, as Black Roderick lay upon his death-bed tossing and turning in his fever, there rushed unto him one of the serving-men in a great terror and fear.

And of what they spoke together shall I sing thee, lest thou grow weary of my prose:

_There is one at the door, O my master,
At the door, who is bidding you come!
Who is he that wakes me in the darkness,
Calling when all the world's dumb?_

_Six horses has he to his carriage,
Six horses blacker than the night;
And their twelve red eyes in the shadows
Twelve lamps he carries for his light._

_And his coach is a coffin black and mouldy,
A huge oak coffin open wide;
He asks for your soul, God have mercy!
Who is calling at the door outside._

_Who let him through the gates of my garden,
Where stronger bolts have never been?
'Twas the father of the fair little lady
You drove to her grave so green._

_And who let him pass through the court-yard,
By loosening the bar and chain?
Oh, who but the brother of your mistress
Who lies in the cold and the rain!_

_Then who drew the bolts at the portal
And into my house bade him go?
She, the mother of the poor little colleen
Who lies in her youth so low._

_Who stands that he dare not enter
The door of my chamber between?
Oh, the ghost of the fair little lady
Who lies in the church-yard green._

Now, when the evil one saw the spirit of the young bride at the door, her arms spread out in the form of a cross, he did not know what to do. And had not Black Roderick, in his joy and desire, sprung from his bed on hearing the voice of his mistress bidding him fear not, all perchance had gone well.

But Roderick, sick and eager for the sight of his bride, flung open the door, and was seized by the evil one and carried away. Now, the spirit of the little bride followed the horrible coach that contained her love, even to the flaming gates of hell, and there the evil one stopped and looked upon her with desire.

"Better," quoth he, "a thousand times to let go this wretched fellow, who will surely return to me later, if I can gain this soul who hath come even out of the kingdom of heaven."

And, turning to the poor little bride, he said: "Give thou thyself to me, and I will let this love of thine return to the world to work out his redemption."

But the little soul, weeping, saith:

"Nay, my soul belongeth to Christ in heaven, and I must not give it to thee; but for seven years shall I be thy slave if thou givest this dear one to me at the end."

So the evil one thought to himself: "Would I could steal this white soul from heaven to be the greatest gem in my crown of triumph, and to serve me seven years. At the end of that time her heart will incline to evil, and she will become mine."

And again she spoke to him, and of what she said I shall sing thee, lest thou grow weary of my prose:

_If you will let his young soul go free,
I will serve you true and well,
For seven long years to be your slave
In the bitterest place of hell._

_"Seven long years if you be my slave
I will let his soul go free."
The stranger drew her then by the hand,
And into the night went he._

_Seven long years did she serve him true
By the blazing gates of hell,
And on every soul that entered in
The tears of her sorrow fell._

_Seven long years did she keep the place
To open the doors accurst,
And every soul that her tear-drops knew,
It would neither burn nor thirst._

_And once she let in her father dear,
And once her brother through.
Once came a friend she had loved full well:
Oh, bitter it was to do!_

Now, no toil in the great halls of the evil one could have been more bitter to endure than to unbar the door for the lost souls; for her sweet tenderness was tortured most of all by the despairing ghosts that passed to their eternal perdition, and her hands felt guilty at letting them go through.

But of all the sorrows none was so great as for her eyes to see the tortures of Black Roderick, who stood beside her in his anguish, for the tears that fell upon him from her eyes gave him no relief, since he had injured her on earth. She held her hands to hold the fiery waters that fell upon him, and her tender body strove to stand between him and his tortures in vain. Seeing her so endeavoring, the evil one spoke, saying:

"What hast thou about thee, little soul, that thou art free from my fire and torments?"

Then the little bride remembered the tears she had hidden in her heart, that had fallen upon her in heaven from the angel's eyes, and she drew them forth.

And the tears spoke to her, saying:

"Put us not away, lest the torments overpower thee, so thou mayst never come to the kingdom of heaven."

But the little bride lifted them upon the heart and mouth of Black Roderick, so he suffered no more the cruel tortures of the lost. Now, when the evil one saw this, he smiled to himself, "For," quoth he, "now will she know temptations, since she hath put away the angel's tears, and hath no protection save her own strength."

And so bitter were her sufferings that the little bride cried out it was more than she could bear.

And the evil one, hearing her, said:

"Give thyself to me, and thou shalt suffer no more."

But she turned her face away, and made him no answer.

Then Black Roderick, looking upon her, saw her anguish, and to his soul came such bitter repentance that great tears fell from his eyes upon her, and every tear was as balm upon her sad and suffering flesh. So that when the seven years were over she stood whole and without pain.

Now, when the seven long years were at an end, she found the naming doors opened of themselves for her and Black Roderick to go forth. But when she took her love by the hand, a great cry rose from the lost souls she had let into the burning place during her seven years of trial. And in her heart was such grief she could not go. She heard her father's voice call to her, and the voice of her brother. Therefore went she to the throne of the evil one, and begged him to grant her a boon.

"For I have worked long for thee and well," quoth she, "and I beg of thee to let me carry forth as much treasure as my strength can bear."

"That," saith he, "thou shalt have; all thou canst carry thou mayst take forth, if thou wilt give me for payment seven more years of service."

Now, when the little bride heard this she bowed her head and wept.

"Seven long years," saith she, "shall I serve thee more." She took Black Roderick by the hand, and stood by him at the open doors. "Go thou upward," saith she, "and await me in heaven."

Then she closed the flaming gates, and took her place behind them. But the soul of Black Roderick crouched outside, as a dog lieth on the threshold of his master. For seven long years he let no one approach the naming gates, so that not once were they opened during the last seven years of her trial. And when the day came for her to go forth, the little bride flung the gates apart with a loud cry of joy. She knew the evil one could but grant the promise she had extorted, for she had served him well.

And of the further trials and temptations that came to her shall I sing thee, lest thou grow weary of my prose:

_Seven long years did she serve him well
Until the last day was done;
And all the souls she had let in.
They clung to her one by one._

_And all the souls she had let through,
They clung to her dress and hair,
Until the burden that she brought forth
Was heavy as she could bear._

_The first who stopped upon her way
Was a Saint all fair to see,
And "Sister, your load is great," she said,
"So give it, I pray, to me."_

_"Brigit I am; God sent me forth
That you to your love might go"--
The woman she drew the fair robe aside,
And a cloven hoof did show._

_"And I will not give it to you," she said,
Quick grasping her burden tight;
And all the souls that surrounded her
Clung closer in dire affright._

_The next who stopped her upon her way
Was an angel with sword aflame;
"The Lord has sent for your load," he said:
"St. Michael it is my name."_

_The woman drew back his gown of white,
And the cloven hoof did see.
"Oh, God be with me this day," she said,
"For bitter my sorrows be."_

_"And I will not give it to you," she said,
And wept full many a tear.
And all the souls that her burden made
Cried out in desperate fear._

Now, the spirit of the poor little bride stopped upon her way, and feared to go farther, for she knew not what to do nor where to go, and it seemed as though there were none to trust. And as she stood, with the trembling souls clinging to her, from the far-off earth came the sweet singing of a robin; and as the bird sang he came nearer and nearer, till the little bride could see his red throat pulsing with his song. And the song he bore upon his beak was her mother's prayer.

Now, when the soul of the little bride heard this sweet singing, she became strong, and followed the bird even to the gates of heaven; and there she paused, trembling, afraid to knock, for she had gone forth of her own free will, and she had returned with a burden that she had no leave to bring.

"And without these dear ones how could I enter?" saith she; and the souls trembled with her in her fear.

But the robin tapped upon the golden gates three times with his beak, and flung his song into the shining blue of the skies.

Then a voice came forth, saying:

"By what right comest thou, of all birds, to disturb the peace of paradise with thy singing?"

And the robin answered:

"Because I alone, of all birds, strove to draw forth the cruel nails in Calvary; so my breast is ever red with the sacred blood."

"And what song bearest thou upon thy bill," saith the voice, "that would be welcome here?"

"The prayer of a mother for the soul of her little child," quoth the robin.

When he saith this the doors of paradise were opened, and upon the threshold stood one of the archangels of the Lord, and his face was glad and glorious as the sun. And when he saw the little bride, with her burden of trembling souls clinging to her dress and hair, he bade her enter.

"Thou hast done well," saith he, "and there is joy in heaven over thy return."

And as he led her by the hand the souls dropped from her and flew through the golden gates with loud cries of joy.

So brought she to heaven the soul of Black Roderick, that had been lost but for her great and suffering love. And from the closed gates none came forth save the little robin.

Now must I end my tale, lest thou grow weary of the telling.

And if more thou requirest, listen thou to the robin, who alone of all birds hath seen the glories of paradise, and who telleth to all men, if they would but hear, his pride and his joy. Even in winter, when snow and hunger chill him almost to death, when all other birds are silent with discontent, he sitteth upon a low bough and telleth the story of Black Roderick and his little bride, and of many things good to the heart of man. Listen thou and hearken.

THE END