Indiana University - Arbutus Yearbook (Bloomington, IN)

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lEC ODiiai on the rough stone walls. At the end of tiiis corridor was a huge bolted door. After much clanking of iron tiie door opened. The room within was dark. The caiuilc sent a feeble gleam to the opposite wall, dii which Bentdn made uLit dimly the outlines of a large picture. The Sacristan called and a door on the left opened, admit- ting two natives. Under the Sacristan ' s directions they threw open the window shutters, admitting the daylight. The picture flashed out as if by magic. It was a huge can- vas on which the Christ was represented as being taken down from the cross to be prepared by the women for burial. The most noticeable thing about the picture was the body of the Christ: it stood out with peculiar distinctness ; it seemed almost luminous. Wonderful! Benton cried. The work of some great master. With the eagerness of the artist he examined the painting more closely. In it were subtleties of color such as he had seldom seen before. AA ' ith a magnifying glass he went over certain parts carefully, noting the wonderful technique. Unconsciously he laid his right hand on the body of the Christ. At the same moment a qtiick, angry voice sounded behind him: Beware! It is death, stranger! One of the natives had spoken. Benton started back. The Sacristan ga e a borrihed cry. An old priest came hurrying in. Tumult arose. Cries, curses, imprecations sounded from all directions. From nowhere and everywhere men seemed to come — angry men gesticulating wildly. Benton gazed about him in horror. Dinglev stood surveying the scene with a puzzled look. The tumult increased. Benton, cowering, frightened, aghast, was the center of a wild crowd, each one of whom pointed at him an accusing finger, crving: Corpus Christi, Corpus Christi ! He has dared ' touch the ' bodv of Christ! J

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IMS i It ' s a dismal sort of dump! Dingley said wearily. You have no appreciation for the artistic, Benton an- swered, shifting his artist ' s kit from one arm to the other. Perhaps not, Dingley said. But we ' ve come all the way up here, and I suppose we might as well go into the cathe- dral and sec what it ' s like. They approached the entrance. Unchallenged, they passed under the wide portal and through a lofty vestibule into the dim interior. Far off, before the altar probably, tall wa. candles were burning. The atmosphere was close and op- pressive. As their eyes became accustomed to the dim light the in- terior gradually took more definite form. Faded old pictures of the saints hung along the walls. Before numerous shrines smoky lamps were burning. The two young men surveyed it all in silence. ' l o the artist there were tones and colors. To Dingley, the setting for a romance. A whining voice interiupted their reflections. Senor! Senor! Benton turned. The Sacristan, a stunted, crippled native, stood before them iiolding a candle in his hand. Senor! said the Sacristan, for a piece of gold I will show you our treasure — the picture of the Christ. The picture — Benton began. Oh, Senor! Such a picture! Great, large, magnificent! Benton turned to Dingley. What about it? he asked. This must be the picture of which we heard. Shall we see it? Of course! Dingley laughed. Benton held out a piece of gold to the Sacristan. Show us your picture, he said. The Sacristan hobbled along ahead of them, leading the way out into the entrance hall. From there they entered a dark corridor where the Sacristan ' s candle threw eerie shadows L.

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i : r; rl ' - iL i M iiDDC Suddenly to Dingley came great light. He forced his way to Benton ' s side. Quick! he whispered. Do as I tell you. Back off from the picture and kneel in prayer. Arise with arms extended in supplication to the Christ. Go througli this ceremony three times, then fall flat upon your face. Bewildered, wondering, Benton obeyed. With his first obeisance tlie chuiior ceased. The people backed away and stood watching him in silence. When Benton had at last fallen face downward before the picture Dingley rushed toward him and raising him up thrust a drawing pad into the poor artist ' s trembling hands. Now draw! he commanded in a low voice. Draw the body of the Christ! Benton obeyed. Dingley turned to the crowd. A miracle! he cried. This great artist, pointing to Benton, had lost the use of his hand. A vision told him to seek this picture and to touch the body of the Christ that again his cunning might be re- stored. Behold! Even now he draws the body of the Christ with his pencil! The crowd pressed about Benton. Sure enough, growing line by line on the paper, the body of the Christ appeared. A miracle! tlie people shouted. God has given us a miracle! Corpus Christi ! Corpus Christi ! THE I-: . D WHEN I WENT C Y C L () N I N G SINCE 1 was no higher than the hub of a blue milk wagon, the good queen Genevieve has been ever faithful in re- warding my diligent efforts. When I learned my a-b-c ' s, I distincth ' remember, Genevieve paid her initial visit and told I iNE ' ilA..!