The Priests Tale - Père Etienne | Page 8

downward as far as I could. The blade sank to its hilt fairly easily, and that was all.
"Thus I stabbed until I came to the string of the apse, and then, almost at once, I made a discovery. The point of the blade struck a stone. A foot to the left, it touched again, and a foot more. In a few minutes I was all but certain that a stone slab was buried there. You may imagine my excitement.
"Mwezi called his sons and sent one for a native hoe. When he returned, we all gathered about the place while he slowly dug up the trampled mud. In a few minutes a stone slab was being exposed to view, and with my spear I got to work scraping off the earth while he dug free the other end. Suddenly, as I scraped, I made out a cross, and to cut the story short, we laid bare at length what had undoubtedly been an altar-stone. Every one of the five crosses were plainly visible, and left no room for question.
"We stopped out of breath, and I explained something of its use. At that Mwezi spoke suddenly, calling our attention to him. 'Lift it, lift it,' he cried. 'Lift it at once.'
"The old man was a striking spectacle. His withered face was simply alive with emotion. He was kneeling on hands and knees, and his thin fingers worked at the edge of the slab. Something in his voice compelled us, and we got at once to work. After all it was an easy task, for it was soon apparent that the stone was fitted into brick, with which the whole place was paved, and with spade and spear we levered it up a little. Then two of Mwezi's sons got their fingers under it, and without any great effort raised it completely. They staggered aside with it and the rest of us peered within. For a second we looked, and then Mwezi gave a great cry.
"'My father, my father! Lo, I have come to thee, as thou didst bid. These many years have I waited, for my spirit spoke true, bidding me rest above thee. Now will I pass on whither thou art passed, and as thou hadst understanding, so it shall befall. Lo, I come to thee, seeking peace!'
"His voice hesitated, and failed, and he fell forward very gently and slowly till his head rested on his hands on the edge of the tomb. None of us dared to move for a few seconds, for Mwezi's voice rang so truly and convincingly. Great awe fell on us all, for he had spoken as one who certainly saw. Then I stretched out my hand and touched him, but he had gone, as he said. And on his face was peace.
"That is all there is to tell in a way. For inside the grave, if grave it were, there was nothing at all that it was given to our eyes to see--not a bone, not a shred of a habit, nor book nor beads. If ever a body or treasures of any sort had been there, the receptacle had been rifled long before, and entirely forgotten. So there is literally no more to tell. Of course the affair made great excitement. The chief and all his people came to see, and came once again the day after when I lowered Mwezi into the grave and replaced the altar stone. After that the door and the windows were blocked up at my request, against the day of the coming of the Faith once more to Mtaka-tifuni. For that, the space about the sanctuary is to be kept clear of undergrowth, by order of the chief. For that old Mwezi waits beneath the altar, and maybe he whom he saw waits also."
The dinner bugle had sounded a few moments before Père Etienne had finished, and now we rose to go. We stood a second, and I gazed over the side at the star-shine on the water, for the night was fine. When I looked up, Père Etienne was staring out into the darkness, a far-away look on his face, but he must have felt my eyes on him, for he turned quickly and smiled. Possibly he read a question I rather wanted to ask, but did not dare. Anyway, he smiled, as I say, and shook his head. "I have lived too long in Africa to have theories, my friend," he said, "but to me the memory of Mwezi and his chapel is a very precious thing. We are all of us souls on pilgrimage, and we rarely understand why or how, or remember that we have a Guide. But I like to think in the end, the Good God willing, we shall find a hidden