Americans -- Cuba -- Fiction; Spanish-American War, 1898 -- Fiction
At length, he reached the vicinity of the deserted hut and stole up to
reconnoitre before entering the ruined habitation; he crept up to one of
the small windows and peered within; the sight that met his vision
startled him to such an extent that he forgot, for the moment, his
habitual caution and remained at the window although he had discovered
that the hut was occupied; the room he looked into was dimly lit by the
rays of the setting sun which penetrated the dense growth of tropical
verdure and found their way into the small western aperture that
answered the purpose of a look-out toward the village; Tessa was lying,
looking very wan and care-worn, upon the rude bed she had arranged for
the man who was then staring at her ... in her thin hand was a crucifix
which Father Felix had just given to her ... the good Priest was
kneeling upon the rough floor beside the couch and the tears were
rolling down his cheeks, for the sight before him would have moved far
less tender hearts than his; the girl began to speak in a low voice and
Manuello strained his power of hearing to catch the faint words which
fell from her pale and trembling lips.
"Good Father," she began, speaking as if at confession, "I beseech you
to have mercy upon your sinful daughter; I have done grievous wrong
during my short life and I beg you to intercede with the God of truth
and justice before whose judgment seat I will soon appear. I ask you to
pray for me, Father Felix, for I am in need of your prayers. I have been
a wicked girl in some ways, though not in all, for I have resisted a
very strong desire which was a part of my sinful nature and which I
believe I have, now, through suffering, gained the victory over."
The girl ceased speaking from sheer weakness, then, and the Priest took
the crucifix from her shaking hand and attached it to the cord at his
waist, then he lifted his clasped hands in earnest and humble
supplication:
"Father Who art in heaven," he prayed, "listen to us who are in Thy
gracious Hands, both here and hereafter. Help me to guide this suffering
soul aright and help her to walk where she was meant to walk, whether
she regains her health and returns to the life she has had, formerly, or
whether she passes out of this narrow existence and goes into eternity
before another morning dawns. Look down, dear Father, in mercy on us who
are Thy humble servants. Amen."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account