Thus Sister Bernice was the first flower to die of the Roses of Saron and the first of the Solitary to be laid away in the little God's Acre down in the meadow by the roadside. Mine own wish, had it been expressed, would have been that our sister be buried in the simplicity which marked her gentle life, but those in authority thought it best to make her burial an occasion for all the imposing honors and ceremonies of our Order. At midnight, while earth and sky were held in intense darkness--the chill, wintry winds sighing a mournful requiem more sad and mournful even than the chanting by the heavy-hearted Sisters and Brothers, of the dirge composed in loving memory by Sister Foeben--six of the Brothers clad in their long cowls tenderly and reverently carried the body of our dear Bernice from Mount Sinai down to the narrow little _Kammer_ where all that was of earth of her could rest in peace until the call of the last day. My heart was too full to note all this but dimly and to hear but faintly our footfalls upon the hard ground and the solemn tolling of the convent bells, the flickering rushlights shedding a weird, ghostly light over the sad, thin line of mourners. Tenderly as a fond mother lays her child to sleep at evenfall we laid our sister to rest with all the symbolic beauty of the ritual of the Brotherhood of Zion and then having performed our last sacred offices for our departed one, we filed slowly back to our cells. The room Sister Bernice had occupied in Kedar was now closed to remain so for some time, and upon the walls of her _Kammer_ was hung a legend, or _Segenspruch_, composed by our Brother Beissel, and lovingly executed by the Sisters in their beautiful Gothic penwork: "_Bernice, Freue dich in ihrem gang unter der Schafweide, und sey freundlich u. huldreich unter den Liebhabern._" Which meaneth: "Bernice, enjoy yourself in your sojourn among the sheep pastures and be affable and gracious among the suitors." Ah me, ah me! CHAPTER XV THE GREAT COMET The Lord his signs makes to appear, To call us to repentance: A monstrous comet standeth there That we our sins shall flee from, But we, alas! scarce give it a thought For each one thinks it cometh not, The punishment and danger. The winter winds had swept o'er the grave of our dear sister not a month, and hardly had our little camp on the Cocalico been restored to its usual evenness of temper after the wordy warfare Brother Hildebrand and I, under the leadership of Brother Beissel, had waged against our ancient foes, the Moravians at Bethlehem--for they believed not in celibacy--when we were again roused to a high pitch of excitement by that which was no less than a second comet which, following closely upon the one that flashed so suddenly upon us the preceding February, left no longer any doubts even in the minds of the most skeptical and unbelieving, that we were within the portent of some great crisis.