‘Benedicta,’ I said, ‘I am going away from here--away from the
mountains--away from you.’
She grew pale, but said nothing. For a moment I was overcome with
emotion; I seemed to choke, and could not continue. Presently I said:
‘Poor child, what will become of you? I know that your love for Rochus
is strong and, love is like a torrent which nothing can stay. There is
no safety for you but in clinging to the cross of our Saviour. Promise me
that you will do so--do not let me go away in misery, Benedicta.’
‘Am I, then, so wicked?’ she said, without lifting her eyes from the
ground. ‘Can I not be trusted?’
‘Ah, but, Benedicta, the enemy is strong, and you have a traitor to
unbar the gates. Your own heart, poor child, will at last betray you.’
‘He will not harm me,’ she murmured. ‘You wrong him, sir, indeed you
do.’
But I knew that I did not, and was all the more concerned to judge that
the wolf would use the arts of the fox. Before the sacred purity of
this maiden the base passions of the youth had not dared to declare
themselves. But none the less I knew that an hour would come when she
would have need of all her strength, and it would fail her. I grasped
her arm and demanded that she take an oath that she would throw herself
into the waters of the Black Lake rather than into the arms of Rochus.
But she would not reply. She remained silent, her eyes fixed upon mine
with a look of sadness and reproach which filled my mind with the most
melancholy thoughts, and, turning away, I left her.
34
Lord, Saviour of my soul, whither hast Thou led me? Here am I in the
culprit’s tower, a condemned murderer, and to-morrow at sunrise I shall
be taken to the gallows and hanged! For who so slays a fellow being, he
shall be slain; that is the law of God and man.
On this the last day of my life I have asked that I be permitted to
write, and my prayer is granted. In the name of God and in the truth I
shall now set down all that occurred.
Leaving Benedicta, I returned to my cabin, and, having packed
everything, waited for the boy. But he did not come: I should have to
remain in the mountains another night. I grew restless. The cabin seemed
too narrow to hold me; the air was too heavy and hot to sustain life.
Going outside, I lay upon a rock and looked up at the sky, dark and
glittering with stars. But my soul was not in the heavens; it was at the
cabin by the Black Lake.
Suddenly I heard a faint, distant cry, like a human voice. I sat upright
and listened, but all was still. It may have been, I thought, the note
of some night-bird. I was about to lie down again, when the cry was
repeated, but it seemed to come from another direction. It was the
voice of Benedicta! It sounded again, and now it seemed to come from the
air--from the sky above my head, and distinctly it called my name; but,
O Mother of God, what anguish was in those tones!
I leapt from the rock. ‘Benedicta, Benedicta!’ I cried aloud. There was
no reply.
‘Benedicta, I am coming to thee, child!’
I sprang away in the darkness, along the path to the Black Lake. I ran
and leapt, stumbling and falling over rocks and stumps of trees. My
limbs were bruised, my clothing was torn, but I gave no heed; Benedicta
was in distress, and I alone could save and guard her. I rushed on until
I reached the Black Lake. But at the cabin all was quiet; there was
neither light nor sound; everything was as peaceful as a house of God.
After waiting a long time I left. The voice that I had heard calling me
could not have been Benedicta’s, but must have been that of some evil
spirit mocking me in my great sorrow. I meant to return to my cabin, but
an invisible hand directed my steps another way; and although it led me
to my death, I know it to have been the hand of the Lord.
Walking on, hardly knowing whither, and unable to find the path by which
I had descended, I found myself at the foot of a precipice. Here was a
narrow path leading steeply upward along the face of the cliff, and I
began ascending it. After I had gone up some distance I looked above,
and saw outlined against the starry sky a cabin perched upon the very
verge. It flashed through my mind that this was the hunting-lodge of
the Saltmaster’s son, and this the path by which he visited Benedicta.
Merciful Father! he, Rochus, was certain to come this way; there could
be no other. I would wait for him here.
I crouched in the shadow and waited, thinking what to say to him and
imploring the Lord for inspiration to change his heart and turn him from
his evil purpose.
Before long I heard him approaching from above. I heard the stones
displaced by his foot roll down the steep slopes and leap into the lake
far below. Then I prayed God that if I should be unable to soften the
youth’s heart he might miss his footing and fall, too, like the stones;
for it would be better that he should meet a sudden and impenitent
death, and his soul be lost, than that he should live to destroy the
soul of an innocent girl.
Turning at an angle of the rock, he stood directly before me as, rising,
I stepped into the faint light of the new moon. He knew me at once, and
in a haughty tone asked me what I wanted.
I replied mildly, explaining why I had barred his way, and begging him
to go back. He insulted and derided me.
‘You miserable towler,’ he said, ‘will you never cease meddling in my
affairs? Because the mountain maids are so foolish as to praise your
white teeth and your big black eyes, must you fancy yourself a man, and
not a monk? You are no more to women than a goat!’
I begged him to desist and to listen to me. I threw myself on my knees
and implored him, however he might despise me and my humble though holy
station, to respect Benedicta and spare her. But he pushed me from
him with his foot upon my breast. No longer master of myself, I sprang
erect, and called him an assassin and a villain.
At this he pulled a dagger from his belt, saying: ‘I will send you to
Hell!’
Quick as a flash of lightning my hand was upon his wrist. I wrested the
knife from him and flung it behind me, crying: ‘Not with weapons,
but unarmed and equal, we will fight to the death, and the Lord shall
decide!’
We sprang upon each other with the fury of wild animals, and were
instantly locked together with arms and hands. We struggled upward and
downward along the path, with the great wall of rock on one side, and
on the other the precipice, the abyss, the waters of the Black Lake! We
writhed and strained for the advantage; but the Lord was against me for
He permited my enemy to overcome me and throw me down on the edge of the
precipice. I was in the grasp of a strong enemy, whose eyes glowed
like coals of fire. His knee was on my breast and my head hung over the
edge--my life was in his hands. I thought he would push me over, but he
made no attempt to do so. He held me there between life and death for a
dreadful time, then said, in a low, hissing voice: ‘You see, monk, if I
but move I can hurl you down the abyss like a stone. But I care not to
take your life, for it is no impediment to me. The girl belongs to me,
and to me you shall leave her; do you understand?’
With that he rose and left me, going down the path toward the lake. His
footfalls had long died away in the silent night before I was able to
move hand or foot. Great God! I surely did not deserve such defeat,
humiliation and pain. I had but wished to save a soul, yet Heaven
permitted me to be conquered by him who would destroy it!
Finally I was able to rise, although in great pain, for I was bruised by
my fall, and could still feel the fierce youth’s knee upon my breast
and his fingers about my throat. I walked with difficulty back along
the path, downward toward the lake. Wounded as I was, I would return to
Benedicta’s cabin and interpose my body between her and harm. But my
progress was slow, and I had frequently to rest; yet it was near dawn
before I gave up the effort, convinced that I should be too late to do
the poor child the small service of yielding up my remnant of life in
her defence.
At early dawn I heard Rochus returning, with a merry song upon his lips.
I concealed myself behind a rock, though not in fear, and he passed
without seeing me.
At this point there was a break in the wall of the cliff, the path
crossing a great crevice that clove the mountain as by a sword-stroke
from the arm of a Titan. The bottom was strewn with loose boulders and
overgrown with brambles and shrubs, through which trickled a slender
stream of water fed by the melting snows above. Here I remained for
three days and two nights. I heard the boy from the monastery calling
my name as he traversed the path searching for me, but I made no answer.
Not once did I quench my burning thirst at the brook nor appease my
hunger with blackberries that grew abundantly on every side. Thus I
mortified the sinful flesh, killed rebellious nature and subdued my
spirit to the Lord until at last I felt myself delivered from all evil,
freed from the bondage of an earthly love and prepared to devote my
heart and soul and life to no woman but thee, O Blessed Virgin!
The Lord having wrought this miracle, my soul felt as light and free
as if wings were lifting me to the skies. I praised the Lord in a loud
voice, shouting and rejoicing till the rocks rang with the sound. I
cried: ‘Hosanna! Hosanna! I was now prepared to go before the altar and
receive the holy oil upon my head. I was no longer myself. Ambrosius,
the poor erring monk, was dead; I was an instrument in the right hand of
God to execute His holy will. I prayed for the delivery of the soul of
the beautiful maiden, and as I prayed, behold! there appeared to me
in the splendour and glory of Heaven the Lord Himself, attended by
innumerable angels, filling half the sky! A great rapture enthralled my
senses; I was dumb with happiness. With a smile of ineffable benignity
God spake to me:
‘Because that thou hast been faithful to thy trust, and through all the
trials that I have sent upon thee hast not faltered, the salvation of
the sinless maiden’s soul is now indeed given into thy hand.’
‘Thou, Lord, knowest,’ I replied, ‘that I am without the means to do
this work, nor know I how it is to be done.’
The Lord commanded me to rise and walk on, and, turning my face away
from the glorious Presence, which filled the heart of the cloven
mountain with light, I obeyed, leaving the scene of my purgation and
regaining the path that led up the face of the cliff. I began the
ascent, walking on and on in the splendour of the sunset, reflected from
crimson clouds.
Suddenly I felt impelled to stop and look down, and there at my feet,
shining red in the cloudlight, as if stained with blood, lay the sharp
knife of Rochus. Now I understood why the Lord had permitted that wicked
youth to conquer me, yet had moved him to spare my life. I had been
reserved for a more glorious purpose. And so was placed in my hands the
means to that sacred end. My God, my God, how mysterious are Thy ways!
35
‘You shall leave her to me.’ So had spoken the wicked youth while
holding me between life and death at the precipice. He permitted me
to live, not from Christian mercy, but because he despised my life, a
trivial thing to him, not worth taking. He was sure of his prey; it did
not matter if I were living or dead.
‘You shall leave her to me.’ Oh, arrogant fool! Do you not know that the
Lord holds His hand over the flowers of the field and the young birds
in the nest? Leave Benedicta to you?--permit you to destroy her body and
her soul? Ah, you shall see how the hand of God shall be spread above
her to guard and save. There is yet time--that soul is still spotless
and undefiled. Forward, then, to fulfil the command of the Most High
God!
I knelt upon the spot where God had given into my hand the means of her
deliverance. My soul was wholly absorbed in the mission entrusted to
me. My heart was in ecstasy, and I saw plainly, as in a vision, the
triumphant completion of the act which I had still to do.
I arose, and, concealing the knife in my robe, retraced my steps, going
downward toward the Black Lake. The new moon looked like a divine wound
in the sky, as if some hand had plunged a dagger into Heaven’s holy
breast.
Benedicta’s door was ajar, and I stood outside a long time, gazing upon
the beautiful picture presented to my eyes. A bright fire on the hearth
lit up the room. Opposite the fire sat Benedicta, combing her long
golden hair. Unlike what it was the last time I had stood before her
cabin and gazed upon it, her face was full of happiness and had a glory
that I had never imagined in it. A sensuous smile played about her
lips while she sang in a low, sweet voice the air of a love song of the
people. Ah me! she was beautiful; she looked like a bride of Heaven. But
though her voice was that of an angel, it angered me, and I called out
to her: ‘What are you doing, Benedicta, so late in the evening? You sing
as if you expected your lover, and arrange your hair as for a dance. It
is but three days since I, your brother and only friend, left you, in
sorrow and despair. And now you are as happy as a bride.’
She sprang up and manifested great joy at seeing me again, and hastened
to kiss my hands. But she had no sooner glanced into my face than she
uttered a scream of terror and recoiled from me as if I had been a fiend
from Hell!
But I approached her and asked: ‘Why do you adorn yourself so late in
the night?--why are you so happy? Have the three days been long enough
for you to fall? Are you the mistress of Rochus?’ She stood staring at
me in horror. She asked: ‘Where have you been and why do you come? You
look so ill! Sit, sir, I pray you, and rest. You are pale and you shake
with cold. I will make you a warm drink and you will feel better.’
She was silenced by my stern gaze. ‘I have not come to rest and be
nursed by you,’ I said. ‘I am here because the Lord commands. Tell me
why you sang.’
She looked up at me with the innocent expression of a babe, and replied:
‘Because I had for the moment forgotten that you were going away, and I
was happy.’
‘Happy?’
‘Yes--he has been here.’
‘Who? Rochus?’
She nodded. ‘He was so good,’ she said. ‘He will ask his father to
consent to see me, and perhaps take me to his great house and persuade
the Reverend Superior to remove the curse from my life. Would not that
be fine? But then.’ she added, with a sudden change of voice and manner,
lowering her eyes, ‘perhaps you would no longer care for me. It is
because I am poor and friendless.’
‘What! he will persuade his father to befriend you?--to take you to his
home?--you, the hangman’s daughter? He, this reckless youth, at war
with God and God’s ministers, will move the Church! Oh, lie, lie, lie! O
Benedicta--lost, betrayed Benedicta! By your smiles and by your tears I
know that you believe the monstrous promises of this infamous villain.’
‘Yes,’ she said, inclining her head as if she were making a confession
of faith before the altar of the Lord, ‘I believe him.’
‘Kneel, then,’ I cried, ‘and praise the Lord for sending one of His
chosen to save your soul from temporal and eternal perdition!’
At these words she trembled as in great fear.
‘What do you wish me to do?’ she exclaimed.
‘To pray that your sins may be forgiven.’
A sudden rapturous impulse seized my soul. ‘I am a priest,’ I cried,
‘anointed and ordained by God Himself, and in the name of the Father,
and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, I forgive you your only sin,
which is your love. I give you absolution without repentance. I free
your soul from the taint of sin because you will atone for it with your
blood and life.’
With these words, I seized her and forced her down upon her knees. But
she wanted to live; she cried and wailed. She clung to my knees and
entreated and implored in the name of God and the Blessed Virgin. Then
she sprang to her feet and attempted to run away. I seized her again,
but she broke away from my grasp and ran to the open door, crying:
‘Rochus! Rochus! help, oh help!’
Springing after her, I grasped her by the shoulder, turned her
half-round and plunged the knife into her breast.
I held her in my arms, pressed her against my heart and felt her warm
blood upon my body. She opened her eyes and fixed upon me a look of
reproach, as if I had robbed her of a life of happiness. Then her eyes
slowly closed, she gave a long, shuddering sigh, her little head turned
upon her shoulder, and so she died.
I wrapped the beautiful body in a white sheet, leaving the face
uncovered, and laid it upon the floor. But the blood tinged the linen,
so I parted her long golden hair, spreading it over the crimson roses
upon her breast. As I had made her a bride of Heaven, I took from the
image of the Virgin the wreath of edelweiss and placed it on Benedicta’s
brow; and now I remembered the edelweiss which she had once brought me
to comfort me in my penance.
Then I stirred the fire, which cast upon the shrouded figure and the
beautiful face a rich red light, as if God’s glory had descended there
to enfold her. It was caught and tangled in the golden tresses that lay
upon her breast, so that they looked a mass of curling flame.
And so I left her.
36
I descended the mountain by precipitous paths, but the Lord guided my
steps so that I neither stumbled nor fell into the abyss. At the dawning
of the day I arrived at the monastery, rang the bell and waited until
the gate was opened. The brother porter evidently thought me a fiend,
for he raised a howl that aroused the whole monastery. I went straight
to the room of the Superior, stood before him in my bloodstained
garments, and, telling him for what deed the Lord had chosen me,
informed him that I was now an ordained priest. At this they seized me,
put me into the tower, and, holding court upon me, condemned me to death
as if I were a murderer. Oh, the fools, the poor demented fools!
One person has come to me to-day in my dungeon, who fell upon her
knees before me, kissed my hands and adored me as God’s chosen
instrument--Amula, the brown maiden. She alone has discovered that I
have done a great and glorious deed.
I have asked Amula to chase away the vultures from my body, for
Benedicta is in Heaven.