Paula the Waldensian Part 7

We ate in silence, all except Paula who apparently couldn't swallow a mouthful. Our father with his eyes buried in the paper, paid no more attention to her. I had a great desire to cry without knowing why, for I couldn't possibly understand why my father's warning should make Paula so unhappy. Father had not punished her, yet, nevertheless, to see her stand there with a mixture of grief and fright on her pale face, one would have thought that she had been threatened with a most terrible misfortune.

Rosa and Louis made understanding signs to one another. Meanwhile to demonstrate my own sympathy, I tried to take my poor cousin's hand, but she withdrew it, and I understood that it was useless to try to comfort her.

"Uncle," she cried suddenly, "oh, uncle mine, please pardon me but I cannot, cannot obey you."

"What's this?" said my father, gazing at her with stupefaction and growing anger. Our surprise at this untoward daring of our young country cousin was so great, that even Louis dropped his spoon and forgot to eat.

We had disobeyed very often, especially Louis and I, and many times we had been punished for it, for disobedience in my father's eyes was the greatest of all crimes; but never had we dared to defy him openly.

"Paula, be quiet," cried Rosa, fearing the terrible consequences of such temerity.

To our great surprise, my father, in spite of his anger, remained calm.

"So you don't wish to obey me," he said, fixing Paula with a cold and severe eye. "That's the first time I've ever heard such words from any child in this house. Tell me, my daughter, what do you mean?"

"Oh, dear uncle," she said, drawing quite close to father, "oh, oh, uncle mine, don't be angry, please. I do wish to obey you in everything. Oh, yes, in everything, everything! I promised my father to be good and to show to everyone that I am a daughter of the Lord Jesus. But, oh, uncle, I must pray, and I must serve the Lord. My father told me so, and G.o.d Himself tells me so, for so it is written down in the Bible itself."

"I think," said my father, "you will find written in your Bible, these words, 'Children, obey your parents.' And according to you, you ought to obey the Bible."

"Yes, I know that well, those words truly are in the Bible, but papa told me that I should always obey G.o.d, cost what it may. Oh, dear uncle, surely you wish to serve Him. The Lord died for us, and for this, of course, we love Him. And I thought that you loved Him too. I never knew that there were people in this world who did not love G.o.d. Oh, please let me pray, dear uncle. I beg of you, I beg of you. Papa, my dear papa, oh, if he should know that I could never pray anymore! I promised him I'd see him in heaven one day, and he'll be waiting for us there, waiting there for all of us, you, and Lisita, and Rosa, and Catalina, and everybody. Oh, please, please let me pray!" And Paula put her head on my father's shoulder and sobbed as if her heart would break.

"Oh, let her pray, father," implored Rosa in a low voice. "She is so young, she'll soon forget." We could all see that there was a great struggle in my father's innermost self, as a tender look came in his eye, as if he would say, "Don't cry any more. There, there! Pray if you wish." But suddenly his eye rested on us and the stern look returned. He had forgotten us. If he gave way to Paula now, how about the discipline of the rest of his family?

Besides, if he permitted her to pray, what would hinder us also from invoking that same holy Name? It was too much.

"Listen, I tell you," he said; "you must obey, and obey at once. This thing has gone too far already." The only reply that came was the sound of Paula's crying. "There, there," said my father, "Stop your crying. I know your religion perfectly, and once I was on the point of practising it, but, as I said before, your religion teaches obedience to those who are over you."

Paula raised her head, and amid her tears she said, "Listen, uncle dear, I'm only a little girl, and I don't know much, and I can't explain to you what I wish to say. I know well that it is my duty to obey you, and so my father instructed me before he died, and when I disobeyed him, he punished me, but in my father's case--" and here she hesitated.

"Go on, go on," said my father.

"My father's will was also G.o.d's will. He used to say that he was my earthly father but that G.o.d was my heavenly Father, and that if he should die, G.o.d was to be my Father forever. And no matter what happened, or where I was, I must continue to serve G.o.d, no matter who endeavored to stop me.

For it is written in G.o.d's Word, 'We should obey G.o.d, rather than men.'"

I saw my father go pale with anger. "You're an insolent girl!" he cried.

"And I have a good mind to give you a good whipping, to teach you to respect your elders."

Paula looked at him with surprise. "I don't understand, uncle. Those words are written in the New Testament."

"Show them to me," ordered my father.

Paula, glad to escape for a moment, ran for her Bible, which was always beside her in our little bedroom. As she crossed the threshold, Teresa entered to carry away the dishes. "What now? What's the matter?" said the old servant as she looked at Paula's tearful face. "What on earth have you been crying about, poor child?"

My father answered for her. "She's been guilty of most incredible impertinence."

"That's strange," said the old servant. "That's not a bit like her, with her happy, humble ways with all of us."

"That may be," said my father, "but it's just as I feared. She's got all the ideas of her father's family. She talks of nothing but G.o.d and the Bible and of her religion, and that's insupportable in this house."

"Oh, do go slow, sir," Teresa implored. "She's a mere child yet."

"Yes, but she must obey."

Teresa contented herself with a shrug of her shoulders, for she saw that my father was not going to yield. And now Paula had returned with her Bible in hand.

"And now," said my father, after a moment of silence, "let us see those words. Have you found them yet?"

Paula had paused, her hand turning over the pages of her Bible rapidly.

"No, uncle, not yet, but I will find them soon."

Again there was silence. Teresa had returned to the kitchen, the door closing with a bang to demonstrate her displeasure. Nothing could be heard but the tick-tack of the clock, and the sound of the turning pages, as Paula, in spite of her tears, looked for the desired words.

"Here it is," she said at last, smiling in spite of her emotion. "See, uncle, here you are, at the fifth chapter of Acts, verse 29."

"'We ought to obey G.o.d, rather than men!'" murmured my father two or three times, as he read the words of Holy Writ, while Paula looked at him with confident eyes, even though a few tears still lingered.

"Let us see, now, something of the context," he added. "Oh, yes, here it is," and he commenced to read aloud,

"'And the high priest asked them saying, Did not we straitly command you that ye should not teach in this name? and, behold, ye have filled Jerusalem with your doctrine, and intend to bring this man's blood upon us. Then Peter and the other apostles answered and said, _We ought to obey G.o.d rather than men_.'"

Teresa, who had forgotten the tablecloth, came to get it, and smiled as she saw that happiness had again returned to Paula's countenance; for nothing pleased the good woman more than to find everybody in the house happy.

My father leaving certain directions relative to Catalina whom he had found very weak that morning, gathered up his papers, also the Bible, and started to go out.

"Uncle," Paula reminded him timidly, "you've made a mistake. You are carrying my Bible away with your papers."

"Yes, that is true, but I've made no mistake. I'm keeping your Bible now."

"And you will return it to me tonight, uncle?"

"And why tonight?"

"To read it, uncle, as I always do, every night."

"Well, you're not going to read it any more! My children do not read the Bible and they're not so bad. And I've already told you that from now on, you're going to live the same as all the other members of my family, of which you now form a part!"

"Oh, uncle, uncle!" implored Paula, "please leave me that Bible! It is the Bible my father gave me on his dying bed! Please let me have it, I pray you, my dear uncle! I will be good, and I will give you everything that I brought here from Villar. But leave me my Bible, please! please! Leave me my Bible!" Paula sobbed, clinging to my father with a desperate courage.

Teresa, who had viewed this scene with dismay, did not dare to interfere.

She came and went, pretending to arrange things here and there in the room.

For my part, I could not comprehend Paula's conduct, not being able to imagine why she should dare so much for her little old black book--I, who would have exchanged all my books for a new doll; but I would have suffered anything to help her now. And so in spite of all Teresa's signs for me to keep quiet and sit down, I took my father by the sleeve and burst into tears saying, "Papa, please give it to her."

My father turned and looked at me for an instant. Never had I seen him so angry. His face had become as white as a sheet. Suddenly throwing Paula off, who had been holding on to him on the other side, he raised the Bible over her head and with a thundering voice, he threatened her. "Will you keep quiet?" Paula appeared not to have heard him.

"Oh, dear uncle," she implored once more, extending her hands to secure her treasured book, "oh, uncle." In reply all I heard was a dull thud, and I saw Paula fall to the ground. Beside himself, my father had given her a tremendous blow on the head with the Bible.

Teresa rushed toward the child and carried her into the kitchen, turning as she did so toward my father "Have a care, sir," she cried, her voice trembling with indignation. "Mark my words, you will repent some day of what you have just done."