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Benson, Robert Hugh, 1871-1914

"Come Rack! Come Rope!"

On either side, as of old, still rose up the towering carven
stalls; the splendid pavement still shone beneath, refracting back from
its surface the glimmer of light from the stained windows above; but the
head of the body was gone. Somewhere, beneath the deep shadowed altar
screen, they could make out an erection that might have been an altar,
only they knew that it was not. It was no longer the Stone of
Sacrifice, whence the smoke of the mystical Calvary ascended day by
day: it was the table, and no more, where bread and wine were eaten and
drunk in memory of an event whose deathless energy had ceased, in this
place, at least, to operate. Yet it was here, thought Marjorie, that
only forty years ago, scarcely more than twenty years before she was
born, on this very Night, the great church had hummed and vibrated with
life. Round all the walls had sat priests, each in his place; and beside
each kneeled a penitent, making ready for the joy of Bethlehem once
again--wise and simple--Shepherds and Magi--yet all simple before the
baffling and entrancing Mystery. There had been footsteps and voices
there too--yet of men who were busy upon their Father's affairs in their
Father's house, and not upon their own. They were going from altar to
altar, speaking with their Friends at Court; and here, opposite where
she stood and peeped in the empty cold darkness, there had burned lights
before the Throne of Him Who had made Heaven and earth, and did His
Father's Will on earth as it was done in Heaven.


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