Is it the venerable cloister buried
in the snow, buffeted by the storm, and threatened by the avalanche?
is i the awful death of starvation hanging in all its gloomy
anticipations over the community isolated by the snow-storm from the
civilized world around? Or will it be the just indignation of the
holy monks in finding the true character of the refugees whom they
have sheltered in ignorance, contrary to the canons of the Church?
Or will the still more devastating and ruthless storm of religious
persecution seek the sanctuary in the clouds to desecrate it, to
scatter its inmates and wreck its cloisters?
A calamity as thrilling and not less anticipated will fling a sad
memory around the venerable cloisters of Martigny.
Cassier is in the group listening to the aged monk recount his
adventures; with knitted eyebrows he hears him moralizing on the awful
destiny of the future. He is a silent listener; the conversation
is carried on by the garrulous and interested youths and the happy,
virtuous old monk. A forced sobriety, or the atmosphere of virtue
which he dreads, has cast a gloom over him. His thoughts are still
reeking with the blasphemy of the Masonic lodges, and, though restrained
by politeness from intruding his unbelief, he expresses in scowls
and monosyllables his dissentient feelings.
Charles still burns with indignation at her father's irreligion and
personal ill-treatment. Her flushed countenance and agitated manner
were at times indexes of passion, revenge, and self-love; for a moment
the feeling is strong and irresistible, then calms again with the
holier sentiments of remorse and self-condemnation.
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