XX.THE JUDGMENT.A throng of the devout were gathered in Manila cathedral. To a pillar near the pulpit Ambrosia Lonzello was chained. Neither she or the audience knew, but wires connecting with the chains ran under the floor to the pulpit, connecting them with a key on the floor. Underneath it all was a powerful battery. It had all been arranged secretly, at night, by the Jesuit, who was himself an expert electrician. Bishop Lonzello occupied the pulpit.“We have come to the test by ordeal,” he told the people. “It grieves me that any one of the flock should have gone astray, but when the one who leaves the true fold is my own daughter I am doubly grieved. And, as though it were not enough that she should desert the true church and become a friend and companion of the enemy of the church and state, she brings accusation against the priests of the Lord, against her own father, and the apostolic nuncio. You have heard these charges, for the unbelievers in the city take pleasure in rolling the scandal under their tongues. It is beneath my dignity to deny, it is beneath the dignity of the Pope’s messenger to deny, such preposterous things. We will call on the Almighty to decide between us. But first, my daughter, let me beg of you, before we reach this supreme test, recant and save yourself.”He turned toward the girl, who was chained to the stake. There were tears in his eyes, and feeling was in his voice. It was evident he sincerely hoped she would clear the situation by recanting.“Ambrosia, save your father,” he plead. “Say I did not do the awful thing you charge.”“A father should not ask his daughter to perjure herself in the house of the Lord. This is nearly as wicked as to send me to confession in order I might in that holy place be made the victim of another’s lust. Priest—for you have been so unfatherly, I will not call you father—you are guilty, and you know it.”As she spoke the people arose and stood, eager to catch each word. Now that she was through they caught their breaths with a gasp that was audible through all the edifice. The face of the man in the pulpit grew white as his own surplice. His nails dug into the wood of the pulpit.“Apply the test,” said the Jesuit, arising and standing by the other. Lonzello assayed to speak, but he could not articulate.“Shall we call on God to decide between us?” asked the Jesuit of the congregation.“The test, the test,” came from over all the house. Lonzello’s face grew haggard. Many of the congregation were surprised to see the man before them was old, with face deeply wrinkled. But the Jesuit was placid, fully in command of himself and of the situation. He raised his hands toward heaven, and remained silent until the people grew tense, waiting for what might come.“Thou who didst destroy the guilty Jannes and Jambres in the wilderness,” he began impressively, “thou who didst reveal of old the stealer of the golden wedge, judge now, oh, God, the truth between us here. If thy servants are guilty of the things charged against us”—He paused, not only that he might the more impress the people, but also to place one arm about Lonzello that he might support him in case his nerve should fail him and hislimbs grow weak; then, with the other hand spread upward, he continued, impressively:“Strike us dead, oh, God, cause us to die at once.”Every person in the house was standing; every neck was craned; every sound, even to the rustle of breathing, was stilled. A moment passed in tense silence. Then the low voice of the Jesuit continued:“The Almighty has spoken. We live.”The people breathed again, audibly. Lonzello, his strength partly returned and his anxiety burning into his very bones, rushed from the pulpit to the post where his daughter was chained, and, falling on his knees, begged piteously:“Confess, confess, Ambrosia, and end this horrible thing. The father is on his knees to the daughter, begging you to recant.”“Confess!” cried the girl with scorn. “That is the word you used to send me to slaughter, to be devoured by that beast. Sweet father, you are, to ask a daughter to swear to a lie in order to shield the man who wronged her. I know not what foul plot you have framed here, but I do know in my soul of souls I am as white as dawn and that your soul is black as night from which the dawn is born. As for that creature in the robes of God, neighbors and friends, I say he is a devil. His place is hell—however, not to rule, but to find torment, now and everlasting.”The Jesuit flushed slightly, but his voice was unruffled as he asked:“Friends, shall we call the test of God on her?”“No, no!” Lonzello plead, rushing back to the pulpit, “not on her.”“A father may be pitied in pleading for a child,” the Jesuit said, quietly and without passion. “I would, if Icould, spare him, and her as well. Let me, for his sake, girl, ask you to speak the word that shall save both. Recant, recant.”“Repent, repent,” returned Ambrosia, facing him fiercely. “The crime is on your head; the crime on me, the crime upon my father, the crime which now I feel you mean to do, are all upon your head. Repent, repent.”“The girl is obdurate,” said the Jesuit, turning again to the people. “In spite of vindication heaven sent, she has reiterated accusations. Therefore, we shall be forced to call on heaven again to choose between us. Shall we do so?”“The test, the test!” cried the people in one voice.Again the right hand of the Jesuit was raised, again the left stole round Lonzello, gripping him as with a vice. His toe sought the hidden key under the pulpit as he intoned:“Choose now between us, which of us is right. If we are guilty, send from heaven the fires and take our lives. If we have been maligned, then let the fiery vengeance seize on the woman who has said the word and prove to all the people that thou art a jealous God, watching above thine own.”Even as he spoke, even as his hand was outstretched to heaven, Ambrosia Lonzello straightened, then lunged forward, her hands and limbs trembling and shaking; again and again, as the friar’s toe moved, the horrible contortions were repeated. As he completed his prayer the girl hung limp and heavy on her chains, lifeless.An instant more the audience was in a turmoil.“A miracle, a miracle!” it cried.Men and women rushed to the altar, crowding and kneeling, fumbling their rosaries and praying. Lonzello sank into the chair at the side of the altar. The Jesuit alone was calm and commanding.“Yes,” said he, “it is a miracle. The Lord has spoken.Strip your fingers and ears and pockets of jewelry and money, and lay it before him who doeth wonders in your sight. Woe to the man or woman who refuses, woe upon the head of such!”Men were groaning, women praying aloud. Money and jewelry were thrown before the altar in profusion, until hundreds of dollars in value were piled there. Then the audience was dismissed.“Now,” said the Jesuit, turning to Lonzello, “take this stuff and get from the country at once. Your successor from America has arrived and is in the harbor even now.”
XX.THE JUDGMENT.A throng of the devout were gathered in Manila cathedral. To a pillar near the pulpit Ambrosia Lonzello was chained. Neither she or the audience knew, but wires connecting with the chains ran under the floor to the pulpit, connecting them with a key on the floor. Underneath it all was a powerful battery. It had all been arranged secretly, at night, by the Jesuit, who was himself an expert electrician. Bishop Lonzello occupied the pulpit.“We have come to the test by ordeal,” he told the people. “It grieves me that any one of the flock should have gone astray, but when the one who leaves the true fold is my own daughter I am doubly grieved. And, as though it were not enough that she should desert the true church and become a friend and companion of the enemy of the church and state, she brings accusation against the priests of the Lord, against her own father, and the apostolic nuncio. You have heard these charges, for the unbelievers in the city take pleasure in rolling the scandal under their tongues. It is beneath my dignity to deny, it is beneath the dignity of the Pope’s messenger to deny, such preposterous things. We will call on the Almighty to decide between us. But first, my daughter, let me beg of you, before we reach this supreme test, recant and save yourself.”He turned toward the girl, who was chained to the stake. There were tears in his eyes, and feeling was in his voice. It was evident he sincerely hoped she would clear the situation by recanting.“Ambrosia, save your father,” he plead. “Say I did not do the awful thing you charge.”“A father should not ask his daughter to perjure herself in the house of the Lord. This is nearly as wicked as to send me to confession in order I might in that holy place be made the victim of another’s lust. Priest—for you have been so unfatherly, I will not call you father—you are guilty, and you know it.”As she spoke the people arose and stood, eager to catch each word. Now that she was through they caught their breaths with a gasp that was audible through all the edifice. The face of the man in the pulpit grew white as his own surplice. His nails dug into the wood of the pulpit.“Apply the test,” said the Jesuit, arising and standing by the other. Lonzello assayed to speak, but he could not articulate.“Shall we call on God to decide between us?” asked the Jesuit of the congregation.“The test, the test,” came from over all the house. Lonzello’s face grew haggard. Many of the congregation were surprised to see the man before them was old, with face deeply wrinkled. But the Jesuit was placid, fully in command of himself and of the situation. He raised his hands toward heaven, and remained silent until the people grew tense, waiting for what might come.“Thou who didst destroy the guilty Jannes and Jambres in the wilderness,” he began impressively, “thou who didst reveal of old the stealer of the golden wedge, judge now, oh, God, the truth between us here. If thy servants are guilty of the things charged against us”—He paused, not only that he might the more impress the people, but also to place one arm about Lonzello that he might support him in case his nerve should fail him and hislimbs grow weak; then, with the other hand spread upward, he continued, impressively:“Strike us dead, oh, God, cause us to die at once.”Every person in the house was standing; every neck was craned; every sound, even to the rustle of breathing, was stilled. A moment passed in tense silence. Then the low voice of the Jesuit continued:“The Almighty has spoken. We live.”The people breathed again, audibly. Lonzello, his strength partly returned and his anxiety burning into his very bones, rushed from the pulpit to the post where his daughter was chained, and, falling on his knees, begged piteously:“Confess, confess, Ambrosia, and end this horrible thing. The father is on his knees to the daughter, begging you to recant.”“Confess!” cried the girl with scorn. “That is the word you used to send me to slaughter, to be devoured by that beast. Sweet father, you are, to ask a daughter to swear to a lie in order to shield the man who wronged her. I know not what foul plot you have framed here, but I do know in my soul of souls I am as white as dawn and that your soul is black as night from which the dawn is born. As for that creature in the robes of God, neighbors and friends, I say he is a devil. His place is hell—however, not to rule, but to find torment, now and everlasting.”The Jesuit flushed slightly, but his voice was unruffled as he asked:“Friends, shall we call the test of God on her?”“No, no!” Lonzello plead, rushing back to the pulpit, “not on her.”“A father may be pitied in pleading for a child,” the Jesuit said, quietly and without passion. “I would, if Icould, spare him, and her as well. Let me, for his sake, girl, ask you to speak the word that shall save both. Recant, recant.”“Repent, repent,” returned Ambrosia, facing him fiercely. “The crime is on your head; the crime on me, the crime upon my father, the crime which now I feel you mean to do, are all upon your head. Repent, repent.”“The girl is obdurate,” said the Jesuit, turning again to the people. “In spite of vindication heaven sent, she has reiterated accusations. Therefore, we shall be forced to call on heaven again to choose between us. Shall we do so?”“The test, the test!” cried the people in one voice.Again the right hand of the Jesuit was raised, again the left stole round Lonzello, gripping him as with a vice. His toe sought the hidden key under the pulpit as he intoned:“Choose now between us, which of us is right. If we are guilty, send from heaven the fires and take our lives. If we have been maligned, then let the fiery vengeance seize on the woman who has said the word and prove to all the people that thou art a jealous God, watching above thine own.”Even as he spoke, even as his hand was outstretched to heaven, Ambrosia Lonzello straightened, then lunged forward, her hands and limbs trembling and shaking; again and again, as the friar’s toe moved, the horrible contortions were repeated. As he completed his prayer the girl hung limp and heavy on her chains, lifeless.An instant more the audience was in a turmoil.“A miracle, a miracle!” it cried.Men and women rushed to the altar, crowding and kneeling, fumbling their rosaries and praying. Lonzello sank into the chair at the side of the altar. The Jesuit alone was calm and commanding.“Yes,” said he, “it is a miracle. The Lord has spoken.Strip your fingers and ears and pockets of jewelry and money, and lay it before him who doeth wonders in your sight. Woe to the man or woman who refuses, woe upon the head of such!”Men were groaning, women praying aloud. Money and jewelry were thrown before the altar in profusion, until hundreds of dollars in value were piled there. Then the audience was dismissed.“Now,” said the Jesuit, turning to Lonzello, “take this stuff and get from the country at once. Your successor from America has arrived and is in the harbor even now.”
XX.THE JUDGMENT.
A throng of the devout were gathered in Manila cathedral. To a pillar near the pulpit Ambrosia Lonzello was chained. Neither she or the audience knew, but wires connecting with the chains ran under the floor to the pulpit, connecting them with a key on the floor. Underneath it all was a powerful battery. It had all been arranged secretly, at night, by the Jesuit, who was himself an expert electrician. Bishop Lonzello occupied the pulpit.“We have come to the test by ordeal,” he told the people. “It grieves me that any one of the flock should have gone astray, but when the one who leaves the true fold is my own daughter I am doubly grieved. And, as though it were not enough that she should desert the true church and become a friend and companion of the enemy of the church and state, she brings accusation against the priests of the Lord, against her own father, and the apostolic nuncio. You have heard these charges, for the unbelievers in the city take pleasure in rolling the scandal under their tongues. It is beneath my dignity to deny, it is beneath the dignity of the Pope’s messenger to deny, such preposterous things. We will call on the Almighty to decide between us. But first, my daughter, let me beg of you, before we reach this supreme test, recant and save yourself.”He turned toward the girl, who was chained to the stake. There were tears in his eyes, and feeling was in his voice. It was evident he sincerely hoped she would clear the situation by recanting.“Ambrosia, save your father,” he plead. “Say I did not do the awful thing you charge.”“A father should not ask his daughter to perjure herself in the house of the Lord. This is nearly as wicked as to send me to confession in order I might in that holy place be made the victim of another’s lust. Priest—for you have been so unfatherly, I will not call you father—you are guilty, and you know it.”As she spoke the people arose and stood, eager to catch each word. Now that she was through they caught their breaths with a gasp that was audible through all the edifice. The face of the man in the pulpit grew white as his own surplice. His nails dug into the wood of the pulpit.“Apply the test,” said the Jesuit, arising and standing by the other. Lonzello assayed to speak, but he could not articulate.“Shall we call on God to decide between us?” asked the Jesuit of the congregation.“The test, the test,” came from over all the house. Lonzello’s face grew haggard. Many of the congregation were surprised to see the man before them was old, with face deeply wrinkled. But the Jesuit was placid, fully in command of himself and of the situation. He raised his hands toward heaven, and remained silent until the people grew tense, waiting for what might come.“Thou who didst destroy the guilty Jannes and Jambres in the wilderness,” he began impressively, “thou who didst reveal of old the stealer of the golden wedge, judge now, oh, God, the truth between us here. If thy servants are guilty of the things charged against us”—He paused, not only that he might the more impress the people, but also to place one arm about Lonzello that he might support him in case his nerve should fail him and hislimbs grow weak; then, with the other hand spread upward, he continued, impressively:“Strike us dead, oh, God, cause us to die at once.”Every person in the house was standing; every neck was craned; every sound, even to the rustle of breathing, was stilled. A moment passed in tense silence. Then the low voice of the Jesuit continued:“The Almighty has spoken. We live.”The people breathed again, audibly. Lonzello, his strength partly returned and his anxiety burning into his very bones, rushed from the pulpit to the post where his daughter was chained, and, falling on his knees, begged piteously:“Confess, confess, Ambrosia, and end this horrible thing. The father is on his knees to the daughter, begging you to recant.”“Confess!” cried the girl with scorn. “That is the word you used to send me to slaughter, to be devoured by that beast. Sweet father, you are, to ask a daughter to swear to a lie in order to shield the man who wronged her. I know not what foul plot you have framed here, but I do know in my soul of souls I am as white as dawn and that your soul is black as night from which the dawn is born. As for that creature in the robes of God, neighbors and friends, I say he is a devil. His place is hell—however, not to rule, but to find torment, now and everlasting.”The Jesuit flushed slightly, but his voice was unruffled as he asked:“Friends, shall we call the test of God on her?”“No, no!” Lonzello plead, rushing back to the pulpit, “not on her.”“A father may be pitied in pleading for a child,” the Jesuit said, quietly and without passion. “I would, if Icould, spare him, and her as well. Let me, for his sake, girl, ask you to speak the word that shall save both. Recant, recant.”“Repent, repent,” returned Ambrosia, facing him fiercely. “The crime is on your head; the crime on me, the crime upon my father, the crime which now I feel you mean to do, are all upon your head. Repent, repent.”“The girl is obdurate,” said the Jesuit, turning again to the people. “In spite of vindication heaven sent, she has reiterated accusations. Therefore, we shall be forced to call on heaven again to choose between us. Shall we do so?”“The test, the test!” cried the people in one voice.Again the right hand of the Jesuit was raised, again the left stole round Lonzello, gripping him as with a vice. His toe sought the hidden key under the pulpit as he intoned:“Choose now between us, which of us is right. If we are guilty, send from heaven the fires and take our lives. If we have been maligned, then let the fiery vengeance seize on the woman who has said the word and prove to all the people that thou art a jealous God, watching above thine own.”Even as he spoke, even as his hand was outstretched to heaven, Ambrosia Lonzello straightened, then lunged forward, her hands and limbs trembling and shaking; again and again, as the friar’s toe moved, the horrible contortions were repeated. As he completed his prayer the girl hung limp and heavy on her chains, lifeless.An instant more the audience was in a turmoil.“A miracle, a miracle!” it cried.Men and women rushed to the altar, crowding and kneeling, fumbling their rosaries and praying. Lonzello sank into the chair at the side of the altar. The Jesuit alone was calm and commanding.“Yes,” said he, “it is a miracle. The Lord has spoken.Strip your fingers and ears and pockets of jewelry and money, and lay it before him who doeth wonders in your sight. Woe to the man or woman who refuses, woe upon the head of such!”Men were groaning, women praying aloud. Money and jewelry were thrown before the altar in profusion, until hundreds of dollars in value were piled there. Then the audience was dismissed.“Now,” said the Jesuit, turning to Lonzello, “take this stuff and get from the country at once. Your successor from America has arrived and is in the harbor even now.”
A throng of the devout were gathered in Manila cathedral. To a pillar near the pulpit Ambrosia Lonzello was chained. Neither she or the audience knew, but wires connecting with the chains ran under the floor to the pulpit, connecting them with a key on the floor. Underneath it all was a powerful battery. It had all been arranged secretly, at night, by the Jesuit, who was himself an expert electrician. Bishop Lonzello occupied the pulpit.
“We have come to the test by ordeal,” he told the people. “It grieves me that any one of the flock should have gone astray, but when the one who leaves the true fold is my own daughter I am doubly grieved. And, as though it were not enough that she should desert the true church and become a friend and companion of the enemy of the church and state, she brings accusation against the priests of the Lord, against her own father, and the apostolic nuncio. You have heard these charges, for the unbelievers in the city take pleasure in rolling the scandal under their tongues. It is beneath my dignity to deny, it is beneath the dignity of the Pope’s messenger to deny, such preposterous things. We will call on the Almighty to decide between us. But first, my daughter, let me beg of you, before we reach this supreme test, recant and save yourself.”
He turned toward the girl, who was chained to the stake. There were tears in his eyes, and feeling was in his voice. It was evident he sincerely hoped she would clear the situation by recanting.
“Ambrosia, save your father,” he plead. “Say I did not do the awful thing you charge.”
“A father should not ask his daughter to perjure herself in the house of the Lord. This is nearly as wicked as to send me to confession in order I might in that holy place be made the victim of another’s lust. Priest—for you have been so unfatherly, I will not call you father—you are guilty, and you know it.”
As she spoke the people arose and stood, eager to catch each word. Now that she was through they caught their breaths with a gasp that was audible through all the edifice. The face of the man in the pulpit grew white as his own surplice. His nails dug into the wood of the pulpit.
“Apply the test,” said the Jesuit, arising and standing by the other. Lonzello assayed to speak, but he could not articulate.
“Shall we call on God to decide between us?” asked the Jesuit of the congregation.
“The test, the test,” came from over all the house. Lonzello’s face grew haggard. Many of the congregation were surprised to see the man before them was old, with face deeply wrinkled. But the Jesuit was placid, fully in command of himself and of the situation. He raised his hands toward heaven, and remained silent until the people grew tense, waiting for what might come.
“Thou who didst destroy the guilty Jannes and Jambres in the wilderness,” he began impressively, “thou who didst reveal of old the stealer of the golden wedge, judge now, oh, God, the truth between us here. If thy servants are guilty of the things charged against us”—
He paused, not only that he might the more impress the people, but also to place one arm about Lonzello that he might support him in case his nerve should fail him and hislimbs grow weak; then, with the other hand spread upward, he continued, impressively:
“Strike us dead, oh, God, cause us to die at once.”
Every person in the house was standing; every neck was craned; every sound, even to the rustle of breathing, was stilled. A moment passed in tense silence. Then the low voice of the Jesuit continued:
“The Almighty has spoken. We live.”
The people breathed again, audibly. Lonzello, his strength partly returned and his anxiety burning into his very bones, rushed from the pulpit to the post where his daughter was chained, and, falling on his knees, begged piteously:
“Confess, confess, Ambrosia, and end this horrible thing. The father is on his knees to the daughter, begging you to recant.”
“Confess!” cried the girl with scorn. “That is the word you used to send me to slaughter, to be devoured by that beast. Sweet father, you are, to ask a daughter to swear to a lie in order to shield the man who wronged her. I know not what foul plot you have framed here, but I do know in my soul of souls I am as white as dawn and that your soul is black as night from which the dawn is born. As for that creature in the robes of God, neighbors and friends, I say he is a devil. His place is hell—however, not to rule, but to find torment, now and everlasting.”
The Jesuit flushed slightly, but his voice was unruffled as he asked:
“Friends, shall we call the test of God on her?”
“No, no!” Lonzello plead, rushing back to the pulpit, “not on her.”
“A father may be pitied in pleading for a child,” the Jesuit said, quietly and without passion. “I would, if Icould, spare him, and her as well. Let me, for his sake, girl, ask you to speak the word that shall save both. Recant, recant.”
“Repent, repent,” returned Ambrosia, facing him fiercely. “The crime is on your head; the crime on me, the crime upon my father, the crime which now I feel you mean to do, are all upon your head. Repent, repent.”
“The girl is obdurate,” said the Jesuit, turning again to the people. “In spite of vindication heaven sent, she has reiterated accusations. Therefore, we shall be forced to call on heaven again to choose between us. Shall we do so?”
“The test, the test!” cried the people in one voice.
Again the right hand of the Jesuit was raised, again the left stole round Lonzello, gripping him as with a vice. His toe sought the hidden key under the pulpit as he intoned:
“Choose now between us, which of us is right. If we are guilty, send from heaven the fires and take our lives. If we have been maligned, then let the fiery vengeance seize on the woman who has said the word and prove to all the people that thou art a jealous God, watching above thine own.”
Even as he spoke, even as his hand was outstretched to heaven, Ambrosia Lonzello straightened, then lunged forward, her hands and limbs trembling and shaking; again and again, as the friar’s toe moved, the horrible contortions were repeated. As he completed his prayer the girl hung limp and heavy on her chains, lifeless.
An instant more the audience was in a turmoil.
“A miracle, a miracle!” it cried.
Men and women rushed to the altar, crowding and kneeling, fumbling their rosaries and praying. Lonzello sank into the chair at the side of the altar. The Jesuit alone was calm and commanding.
“Yes,” said he, “it is a miracle. The Lord has spoken.Strip your fingers and ears and pockets of jewelry and money, and lay it before him who doeth wonders in your sight. Woe to the man or woman who refuses, woe upon the head of such!”
Men were groaning, women praying aloud. Money and jewelry were thrown before the altar in profusion, until hundreds of dollars in value were piled there. Then the audience was dismissed.
“Now,” said the Jesuit, turning to Lonzello, “take this stuff and get from the country at once. Your successor from America has arrived and is in the harbor even now.”