"My son," the priest responded with a smile which comforted Albrecht
more than words could have done, "our Great Emperor has said in his
Capitularies: 'Let none suppose that prayer cannot be made to God save
in three tongues, for God is adored in all tongues, and man is heard if
he do but ask for the things that be right.' Be of good cheer, my son;
God would not give a soul and not add enough knowledge for its
salvation."
There was in the mien of Albrecht, as he knelt to receive the rite of
baptism, the showing forth of great feeling. He had the air of one who
comes into the fruit of a quest with joy, yet who regards that which he
has won with something of doubt and secret awe; while withal it was
evident that to his mind did this christening seem a thing which should
serve in a sort as a talisman to defend him from this strange and awful
guest that had come to dwell within him, but which even yet scarce
seemed a part of himself. He was as one who knew not himself, but who
was rather confused than enlightened by the new vision which had been
imparted by the miracle that had been wrought.
"Father," he asked hesitatingly, "my wife, must I tell her?"
The priest considered a moment.
"Dost thou wish to tell her?" he inquired.
"Would to God that she had known!" was Albrecht's answer, "but how can I
tell her now? What if she should turn against me?"
The strength of his newly found soul seemed to go out in his love for
Erna, and he was white and trembling at the thought of losing her
affection. Father Christopher regarded him keenly, with sympathy and
complexity struggling in his mind.
"Now thou needst not tell her," he said. "The time may come; but now
strive to become worthy of her whiteness, her innocence, her piety. If
thou wouldst be sure of her love, my son, look upon this as a respite
that thou mayest be one soul with hers when the day comes that she must
be told. And of this be sure," the priest continued, his eye kindling as
if some higher power were speaking through him, "since thou hast won thy
soul through her, it is with hers that thine must stand or fall. If thou
shalt drag hers down, there can be no salvation for thine."
XII
HOW THE MORGENGABE WAS BESTOWED.
Albrecht walked slowly back to his chamber after he had left the priest,
all his mind in a confused whirl of strange and new emotions. He could
not find the old self in this man whom he had become. He was still
within the shadow of the awe which had fallen upon him when he awakened
in the early dawn a human being, and he still thrilled with the
reverential dread which had pierced him as the waters of baptism were
laid upon his head.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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