Central High School - Cog N Pen Yearbook (Newark, NJ)

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THE REVEILLE

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THE REVEILLE 11 the tall marble pillars on which rested the beautifully chisled stone arches cast indeterminable shadows over the tapestried walls. The stone effigies of saints standing around the walls seemed to have bowed their heads in prayer because of the holiness of the place. The waxen tapers on the wonderfully carved altar threw a faint circle of light around the shining heap of armour lying nearby, while from the incense burning in the golden cup suspended from the ceiling rose a cloud of sweet smelling vapour, which, penetrating the farthermost corners of the chapel, seemed allegorical of an earnest prayer ascending heavenward. lerick paused from his steady march to and fro, and stood iff, lost in thought. voven with his childhood days passed before his concen- ` a wonderful panorama. Неге is a scene which he could y It is a picture of his beautiful sainted mother bending ove! li e curly headed boy himself. 'The look of mother- love resting on her dear face gives her the appearance of a celestial being. She is teaching him his daily prayer, which he lisps after her with his childish lips. The scene changes. Again his beautiful mother appears, but now a dark shadow rests upon her countenance. She is taking farewell of his beloved father—her husband, who dressed in shining armour, his helmet surmounted by a waving red plume, must away to a far-off land to help his King. A last embrace, a kiss, and stern Duty, has torn a father from his home and family. Again the shifting of the scenes, and now Roderick sees a field of battle. In the distance can be seen the spires of the Holy City. A mighty host is gathered on that field. A sound of a bugle and those steel ‘clad men, with deathless resolve stamped on their pale brows, surge forward against the dark-visaged foe. A trampling of steeds, a clashing of ar- mour, a fearful turmoil,—a human maelstrom terrible in its intensity. Fight on! fight on! brave knights, for your God and King! The King? Holy St. George! The King is surrounded by foes. He will be killed. But wait. Who is it that stems the human tide as a ship does the sea? It is a knight dressed in glittering armor, whose helmeted head is sur- mounted by a waving red plume. He cuts his way through his foes to the succor of his King. With mighty blows he scatters his foes. The King is saved; but where is the brave knight? Scores of lances pierce. He talls, and the struggling tide sweeps over him. Yet again the scene changes. Now Roderick is in the castle of his birth. Again his mother appears. She is whispering to her little boy about her brave father in the wars. But why does that startled look pass over her countenance? Why does she rise and look anxiously into the starless night. The foreboding silence is broken by an ominous crackling. The room is filling with smoke. The castle is on fire. Now red tongues of flame leap high over the burning castle and now the treacherous besiegers raise their exultant shouts. The towers shake and tremble as a knight rushes into the burning castle and fights his way t« the mother and child. He grasps the boy and dashes out, but ere he can return the castle falls with a mighty crash. With a cry of anguish Roderick dropped to his knees before the altar. It seemed to him that this final scene had been enacted before his gaze, so real had it appeared. “My mother, my dear mother,” he groaned, “why did not Sir James, your brother, save thy life from the castle instead of mine?” “Father in Heaven,” he prayed, “give me strength to be a true knight,

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THE REVEILLE ` THE REDEEMING HOLD-UP By David L. Schnur