MARY IN PRISON.
We have already said that Mary was in a faint when she was carried off
to prison. When she recovered to realise her condition, she burst into
passionate sobbing, but at length, clasping her hands together, she
fell down on her knees in prayer. Overcome with terror at her
surroundings, filled with sadness at the thought of being separated
from her old father, and wearied with the excitement of the day, she
threw herself upon her hard straw couch and fell into a heavy sleep.
When she awoke it was so dark that she could hardly distinguish a
single object. At first she could not remember where she was. The story
of the lost ring came back to her as a dream, and her first idea was
that she was sleeping in her own little bed. Suddenly she felt that her
hands were chained. Instantly all the sad reality of the past day
flashed upon her mind, and, jumping from her bed, she cried out, "What
can I do but raise my heart to God?"
Falling upon her knees, Mary then engaged in prayer. She prayed for
herself, that she might be delivered, but especially she prayed for her
dear father, that in the trouble which had now come upon him the Lord
might support him. The thought of her father brought a torrent of tears
from her eyes and stopped her prayer.
Suddenly the moon, which had been covered with thick clouds, now shone
in a clear sky, and, its rays coming through the iron grating in the
prison wall, threw a silvery light on the floor of Mary's cell. By the
light thus afforded, Mary could make out the large bricks of which the
walls of her prison were built, the white mortar which united them, the
place in the wall serving as a table on which her meals were placed.
Although her surroundings were so miserable, Mary felt that the
moonlight had soothed her heart.
To her astonishment, she became conscious of a sweet perfume filling
her cell. Suddenly she remembered that in the morning she had placed in
her bosom a bouquet of roses and other sweet flowers which remained
from the basket. Taking it in her hand she untied it, and looked at the
flowers in the moonlight. "Alas," said she mournfully, "when I gathered
these rosebuds and forget-me-nots from my garden this morning, who
would have thought that I should be confined in this gloomy prison in
the evening? When I wore garlands of flowers, who would have imagined
that on the same day I should be doomed to wear iron chains?" Then she
thought of her father, and tears fell from her eyes and moistened the
flowers which she held in her hand.
[Illustration: "Oh, my father, be sure that I have not the ring."
_See page 23._]
"Oh, my dear father," she said, "how this bouquet reminds me of the
advice which you have given me. From the midst of thorns, I plucked
these rosebuds; and thus I know that joy will come to me from the very
troubles which now cause me pain. If I had attempted with my own hands
to unfold the leaves of these rosebuds, they would have perished; but
God with a delicate finger had gradually unfolded their purple cups and
shed over them the sweet perfume of His breath. He can disperse the
evils which surround me, and make them turn to my good which seemed all
evil. Let me then patiently wait His time. These flowers remind me of
Him who created them. I will remember Him as He remembers me.
"These tender forget-me-nots, as blue as the heavens, may even be my
silent consolation in all the sufferings of earth. Here are some
sweet-peas with small delicate leaves, half white, half red. The plant
grows and winds itself around a support, that it may not grope in the
dust. And while it balances itself above the earth it displays its
flowers, which might be taken for butterflies' wings. In this way I
will cling to God and by His help raise myself above the miseries of
this earth. This mignonette is the chief source of the perfume which
fills my cell. Sweet plant, you cheer by your perfume the one who
plucked you from your home in the earth. I will try to imitate you and
to do good even to those who without cause have torn me from my garden
and thrown me into this prison. Here is a little sprig of peppermint,
the emblem of hope. I also will preserve hope now that the time of
suffering is come. Here again are two leaves of laurel. They remind me
of that crown incorruptible, which is reserved in heaven for all who
love the Lord and have submitted to His will upon the earth. Already I
think I see it, surrounded with golden rays. Flowers of the earth, you
are shortlived, as are its joys. You fade and wither in an instant, but
in heaven, after our short suffering on the earth, an unchangeable joy
awaits us and an eternal glory in Christ Jesus."
Talking thus to herself, Mary found her heart gradually grow consoled.
Suddenly a dark cloud covered the moon; darkness filled the prison. Her
flowers were blotted out from her sight, and grief again took
possession of her heart. But the cloud was merely temporary, and in a
little while the moon reappeared more beautiful than ever. "Thus,"
reflected Mary, "clouds can be cast over us, but it is only for a
little, and at the end we shine clearly again. If a dark suspicion
hangs over my character, God will make me triumphant over every false
accusation." The thought brought comfort to her; and Mary, stretching
herself upon her bed of straw, slept as tranquilly as a little child.
In her sleep she dreamed a beautiful dream. It seemed to her that she
was walking by moonlight in a garden which was quite new to her,
situated in a wilderness surrounded by a dark forest of oak trees. By
the light of the moon, which had never appeared to her so brilliant or
so beautiful before, she saw hundreds of flowers in this garden,
displaying their charms and filling the air with sweet perfume. Best of
all, she dreamed that her father was with her in this beautiful place.
The moon shining on his face showed his venerable countenance lighted
by a gracious smile. Running to him, she fell on his bosom and shed
tears of joy, with which her cheeks were wet when suddenly she awoke.
It had only been a dream, but it comforted her heart, and she slept
again.