The Holy Cross and Other Tales | Page 7

the Father Miguel bow before the sacred symbol of his faith and plead
for mercy for that same Jew that slumbered anear. And when, as the
deepening blue mantle of night fell upon the hilltops and obscured the
valleys round about, Don Esclevador and his sturdy men came
clamoring along the mountain-side, the holy Father met them a way off
and bade them have regard to the aged man that slept in yonder cave.
But when he told them of that Jew and of his misery and of the secret
causes thereof, out spake the noble Don Esclevador, full hotly,--
"By our sweet Christ," he cried, "shall we not offend our blessed faith
and do most impiously in the Virgin's sight if we give this harbor and
this succor unto so vile a sinner as this Jew that hath denied our dear
Lord!"
Which words had like to wrought great evil with the Jew, for instantly
the other men sprang forward as if to awaken the Jew and drive him
forth into the night. But the Father Miguel stretched forth his hands and
commanded them to do no evil unto the Jew, and so persuasively did he
set forth the godliness and the sweetness of compassion that presently
the whole company was moved with a gentle pity toward that Jew.
Therefore it befell anon, when night came down from the skies and
after they had feasted upon their homely food as was their wont, that
they talked of the Jew, and thinking of their own hardships and
misfortunes (whereof it is not now to speak), they had all the more
compassion to that Jew, which spake them passing fair, I ween.
Now all this while lay the Jew upon the bed of skins and furs within the
cave, and though he slept (for he was exceeding weary), he tossed
continually from side to side, and spoke things in his sleep, as if his
heart were sorely troubled, and as if in his dreams he beheld grievous
things. And seeing the old man, and hearing his broken speech, the

others moved softly hither and thither and made no noise soever lest
they should awaken him. And many an one--yes, all that valiant
company bowed down that night before the symbol in the shrine, and
with sweet reverence called upon our blessed Virgin to plead in the
cause of that wretched Jew. Then sleep came to all, and in dreams the
noble Don Esclevador saw his sovereign liege, and kneeled before his
throne, and heard his sovereign liege's gracious voice; in dreams the
heartweary soldier sailed the blue waters of the Spanish main, and
pressed his native shore, and beheld once again the lovelight in the dark
eyes of her that awaited him; in dreams the mountain-pines were kissed
of the singing winds, and murmured drowsily and tossed their arms as
do little children that dream of their play; in dreams the Jew swayed
hither and thither, scourged by that nameless horror in his bosom, and
seeing the pleading eyes of our dying Master, and hearing that awful
mandate: "Move on, O Jew! move on forever!" So each slept and
dreamed his dreams,--all slept but the Father Miguel, who alone
throughout the night kneeled in the shrine and called unto the saints and
unto our Mother Mary in prayer. And his supplication was for that Jew;
and the mists fell upon that place and compassed it about, and it was as
if the heavens had reached down their lips to kiss the holy shrine. And
suddenly there came unto the Jew a quiet as of death, so that he tossed
no more in his sleep and spake no word, but lay exceeding still, smiling
in his sleep as one who sees his home in dreams, or his mother, or some
other such beloved thing.
It came to pass that early in the morning the Jew came from the cavern
to go upon his way, and the Father Miguel besought him to take with
him a goodly loaf in his wallet as wise provision against hunger. But
the Jew denied this, and then he said: "Last night while I slept
methought I stood once more in the city of the Great King,--ay, in that
very doorway where I stood, swart and lusty, when I spurned him that
went his way to Calvary. In my bosom burned the terror as of old, and
my soul was consumed of a mighty anguish. None of those that passed
in that street knew me; centuries had ground to dust all my kin. 'O
God!' I cried in agony, 'suffer my sin to be forgotten,--suffer me to
sleep, to sleep forever beneath the burden of the cross I sometime
spurned!' As I spake these words there stood before me