Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - In the old Tower - III
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
Below is the raw OCR text
from the above scanned image.
Do you see an error? Proofread the page now!
Här nedan syns maskintolkade texten från faksimilbilden ovan.
Ser du något fel? Korrekturläs sidan nu!
This page has been proofread at least once.
(diff)
(history)
Denna sida har korrekturlästs minst en gång.
(skillnad)
(historik)
“To Hell! To Hell!” echoed through the
Hall of Judgment.
I tried to speak but no sound came from my
lips. My heart froze, I felt abandoned by God
and man.
“I will look after the dog if it comes to
the worst,” whispered the little saint at my
side.
Suddenly through the awful silence I thought
I heard the twitter of birds. A little garden
warbler alighted fearlessly on my shoulder and
sang in my ear:
“You saved the life of my grandmother, my
aunt and my three brothers and sisters from
torture and death by the hand of man on that
rocky island. Welcome! Welcome!”
At the same moment a skylark picked at my
finger and twittered to me:
“I met a flycatcher in Lapland who told me
that when you were a boy you mended the wing
of one of his ancestors and warmed his frozen
body near your heart, and as you opened your
hand to set him free you kissed him and
said: ‘Godspeed little brother! Godspeed little
brother!’ Welcome! Welcome!”
“Help me little brother! Help me little
brother!”
“I will try, I will try,” sang the skylark as he
unfolded his wings and flew away with a trill of
joy, “I will trrrrrry!”
My eyes followed the skylark as he flew away
towards the line of blue hills I could just see
through the Gothic archway. How well I knew
those hills from the paintings of Fra Angelico!
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
