THE-LIGHT OF THE STAR

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXXV, Issue 2, 28 February 1907, Page 5

THE-LIGHT OF THE STAR

Along the Atlantic coast it s was still winter, but where Gaetano lived, in Southern California-, spring lia/d already come, even though the calendar showed that the ■yojung; year was scarcely oiut of her swaddling clothes. In the autumnj the land had lain' as if asleep, wrapped in a _ veil of golden and silver mist, for the hills were bright with waving wild oats, the . mesas shadowy, with the' gray of the sage brush. Then, after the annual rains, the sun shone forth again," the ! scene took on a tinge of green, and presently- thewild flowers, lit'.ce troop after troop of fairies clad in fairest raiment of white and rose, blue, yellow, and flame color, overran hillside and valley as if in answer to the call of the birds, 4 Come out in the sunshine! Come out, for if is spring. 1 In Gaetano's heart it was spring also on this pleasant afternoon, and as he worked in the orange orchard of 'il Signor Inglese, ' he whistled as blithely as the Mexican thrush in the tree above him. Gaetano, sturdy, good-looking, and but twenty years' old, felt that the summer of life was before him, as rich in promise as the great, fruitful country extending on one side of the sea, and on the other three, as far as vision could reach, to the snow-crowned peaks of the giant mountain ranges. Through the vista of the green alleys of the or- .- chard and the lines of irrigating ditches he could see the long, low-roofed adobe ranch-house, a relic"" of the - Spanish occupation, almost overgrown with the scarlet passion vine, typical of the fragrance of romance that clung about it still. Before it, the ground was' purple with heliotrope, vatfied by gay patches of wild geranium. - He could see the row of eucalyptus trees, -planted on .the south ~ to give shade from the heat of the summer sun ; the hedge of Cyprus up which rose-vines climbed as -if eager to get out into the world, the magnolia bushes lifting their creamy or pink-tintod chalices to heaven, the cottages behind the ranch-house where the fruit-growers lived. As the young man's eyes lingered upon the prospect, he sighed for very happiness. Had he belonged to a colder face he might, long before this, have become tranquilly accustomed to the beauty of the landscape. But sometimes it aroused in his ardent Italian nature an intensity of emotion hard for any one but, a Latin to understand. ' Yes, it is 'beautiful, 1 he said aloud ; 'as beautiful as Italy, though never, even when Marta comes, will it be so dear.' Before the eyes of his mind arose a picture of spring in the district where he was born ; the fertile slopes of the Apennines, the lakes gleaming in the heart of the valleys, the salver sheen of olive orchards, - the dark green of orange land lemon trees flecked with gold, the little chapels by the wayside, the voices of the workers in the vineyards, the laughter of girls by the fountains ; of Marta, merriest and sweetest 'of them all. ~ The dreamer turned again to his work. Gaetano had come to California with his parents and a round half-dozen of brothers and sisters two years before. His father,, Giordano, hoped by frugality and patient industry one day~~f6 buy a small" fruit farm,- which he . would cultivate with the aid of his family. Thus ■ they would all become well-to-do. That day was, to all appearances, still far off. Haying shown skill in orange and olive -culture, however, Giordano was in charge v of the orchards of •il Signor Inglese,' and Gaetano, after an experience in apricot and prune growing in a neighboring ranch, worked" with him. At "the" Start, the young man's labor had gone for nothing, • since the apricot r grower failed to -pay him. The bitter remembrance of this vain toil came to him now with the thought of Marta. He had. 'made plans -of tote own which the disappointment frustrated.- But he would not dwell upon them in the' springtime with the world so beautiful ; ' U Signor Inglese ' was the richest man in the county, and was not every Hay's work for him' as good as gold in one's pockets? So, peering up into "the tree under which he stood for a glinvpse of the brown thrush, Gaetano whistled as cheerily as the. bird, banishing ailbut happy thoughts.

Through the glossy foUage gleamed the white blossoms, the green, newly-formed spheres, ami the ripened, golden' fruit, growing , together; the jair was Ifiden^ with the fragrance of ihe flowers. As he - looked Up higher, foe saw a tiny cloud, half sunlight, half mist, floating in the blue, sky.- 'ihe breeze wafted if to- - ward t/he purple and siiowrcovered mountains, beyond which, far across a continent and beyond the sea, lived ,. Marta, to .whom he -had pledged his lo.ve/ Marta had promised to come, under the care of % some '\Jmmigrant family, to California' to marry. -him when". he* should send for her. Well .them"" might 'Gaetaino be happy. Here he picked the- ripe oranges and dropped them into the cloth-lined baskets, -to be carried later to the packing house ; there he examined the boughs _ carefully, on the watch for the first sign "of the possible 'blight, when the 'leaves suddenly wilt even in the rain ; the young tree struggles on, blossoms: bravely,~and even puts forth fruit,, but the lrtud fails to ripen and fthe tree is sure to- die, if • the. bligtot is at its heart. There is a^ chance ' of- saving -it in the beginning, however, if a b/ranch .thus" grown listless is at once -- cut off.. As the young orchardist espied a wilted twig and pruned it with his knife, marking the tree for treatment, he heard the voice of sbmei one calling : ' Gaetano ! Gaetano ! ' - -. Between the lines, of trees his father was coming ~ toward him. ' - . 1 Gaetano ! ' "Che -desiderate ? ? he ciued, and started forward to meat the old man, ' as he called him in ' Ijis thoughts. The paternal years, being-fifty odd; seemed to youth a crown of • age. In his hand Giordano "waved something white, which, as Gaetano came up, ho saw to be a sheet of paper closely^ 'written over. .- < Hiere is news from Italy,' said ,the father, talcing off his broad-brimmed hat of home-woven, straw, and fanning himself with it. - - J Gaetano eagerly took Hie letter. _It. was addressed to the older man by a relative who had evidently sought the assistance of the professional correspondent of the village, and the ittyms of interest- were ~some--what formally set forth. But Giordano - had already spelled them out, and now Gaetano,- who possessed advantages of education, began to read it "eagerly to himself. „. - - : „." His eyes sparkled ; he smiled ; once he even laughed outright. Then the brightness .died out of his'face, a flush overspread, his dark skin; as faded as quick- \ ly, leaving him more swarthy than before. ■ A fierce despair burned in hir eyes as ,he raised them and looked at Giordano 1 , and one word broke frdnr his "quivering lips,: - - •. ■ ' Marta ! • " \ ' Che for tuna ! I should have told, you gently, my son,' lamented Giordano in I talian; claying -> a ~ hand affectionately upon his shoulder, - Lbut my heart' outran my feet to bring you sympathy. -Non lo credo! It may not be so bad, after all.'-" • - Gaetano sadly shook his head and read aloud from ' the letter, in their native dialect : . ' Marta is dying of the fever. All the fong day she naves o£ Gaetano ; . sometimes she thinks he has forgotten his troth. Then she begs the Madonna--send him back to her. It is pitiful—' - ■ - ... He broke off, choked with emotion, an>d raising , ahand to his eyes dashed away the tears that dimmed them. ' Marta is dying ! Could a worse misfortune come to me? 1 foe cried, and rushed awaly down the orchard and across the fields, to h.ide himself) and wrestle with his sorrow amid the solitudes of the neighboring hills. . " . - v ' Cielo «. Youth is ever -desperate,' exclaimed Giordano^ mopping nils face ' with Ms red 'handkerchiel as he. looked after the young man. 'Marta is a - good girl, but he might better marry Bianca, the daughter of -Cas'sini, who came out b,ere with us. Cassini has done well with his market garden, and would give her a dowry. Bueno ! It may come ahout/in- the end.' To' Gaetano, speeding away as if with the wish to outstrip sorrow in the race of life, existence seemed no longer tolerable with Marta lost to him. In his ' frenzy he was tempted to hurl himself into the depths , of the canyon . or plunge his knife into his heart. But a power like Malta's gentle hand upon his arm, the voice of his guardian angel in his ear, restrained him. As he stood on a hill-top and looked across the- green , valley to the white and purple mountains, and > above them still to the calm sky, he^ x stretched forth his arms in pleading to Omnipotence and cried out; simply, as a child : "_ - ' . ( O ,Gotf, spare Marta's life,! O Madonna mia, -obtain that we may meet again.'

Quite exhausted by Ms mad flight, ho flung • himself upon the ground an<l sobbed out his misery.' With calmer thoughts -a plan took form in" his mind. ' Marta asks, for me. I will go to her,' he said, springing to his feet. The sun had now set. He returned to his borne in" the, valley. 'No one was there ; on a balmy evening who with? Catin blood remains indoors? Going to a ' corner where toe kept his ;belonfcings;, he ti«ti up a change, of clothing in a kerchief of generous --dimensions, hid /a leather money-belt, i unfortunately light of • weigjht, in his ' 'brighit-coloaed ' girdle, and took his coat. 'Then, after forcing himself to eat a little of the supper 'of fruit and bread set ready for him on the table, he took a loaf under his arm, picked ,up .his packet, and, going out, trudged through the dust of the road in the moonlight toward • the pass of the hills. It was very early on a June morning, but -the air was chill and a fog lay t over the great city of New s York, shuttling out from view the smokestacks of the ocean steamers lying at the piers in the North River, the cruisers for the time at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, the Statue of Liberty, and the shipping down the bay. At the entrance to one of the bridges, those bonds of steel that bind Greater New York to old Manhattan, a party of boys had built a bonfire some hours ' earlier, and a few bright embers still glowed in its heart. Here, close to the place where 'the fire had been, the roundsman of the beat now _found a man lying on the ground askep. 1 You drunken tramp, wake up and move on,' he called roughly, giving the prostrate vagabond a thrust with his foot. The ' sleeper stirred, but did not awaken. 'Up with you, 1 say! ' repeated the trusty guar-' dian of the law. And stooping, •he caught the vagrant by tire coat and shook him vigorously. The man staggered up light and wrenched himself free. He was a young fellow ; his beardless face ' was not the countenance of a hobo, and the dark eyes thaft (looked- out from iff were keen '■and cleb,r>, not dimmed by dissipation. These characteristics in his favor were lost, however, on the police officer, who, newly appointed to s the force, prided himself on his efficience. ' What are you doin' here, you dago ? ' ho continued, flourishing his club significantly. ' I arrest you for sleepin' in the streets. Come along with me without trouble ; it'll be better for you.' * Business in the E Police Court was rushing later that morning, and the sharp-featured little magistrate 'was meting out 'sentences to disorderlies ajftl petty offenders at the rate of one every three minutes. Impatience quite overruled the judicial calm .'when the young Italian found asleep' by the bonfire stood before him. ' Humph !i That such an able-bodied felloiw should • be arrested for vagrancy,' he snapped out. A.re you . not ashamed of yourself, young man ? ' The prisoner steadily met the stern eyes fixed upon him. r ' No, Excellenze, I am not ashamed,' he said. The judge stared. His words .had been but the beginning of a homily, such as he sometimes addressed to hardened cases , ; <l-He' expected no reply, yet that 'gently spoken ' Excellence,' even -more than the sturdy denial, disarmed him. 1 Then hotw is it you are reduced to this ? There is employment to be found by those who seek it,' he " proceeded, with a frown. - ' I work in California,' explained the young man, with a soft Italian accent. ' One day a letter from Italy broujght bad news. " Marta, the betrothed 'of Gaetano, is dying," it said; " she begs to see him." I ami Gaetano, Excellenze, Gaetano Decardo. -Thai evening I set „put to return to my own country and "to Marta. I had little, money. Sometimes I" rode under the freight cars, sometimes I walked for days. To-day I fiivd a ship. You will let me go free, Excellenze ? ' The judge softened. He was human after all. ' Depardo, - are .you hungry now?" he asked, lean- ■ ing over his desk. A red glow mounted to the brow of the prisoner. For a moment he did not reply. At- last he admitted shamefacedly : r "Excellenze, I have not tasted food for two days.'; ' Very well. The best , sentence for you is a dinner, boy,' declared .the Judge, with whimsical severity. Two days later, Gaetano was on his voyage across the sea.

Somewhere in mid-ocean, unseen, unknown, his ship passed another, westward bound. One afternoon soon afterwards, .with, a party of Italian immigrants just landed 'at Ellis Island, stood a fragile young- girl. ■ v -■- -_ •» '-■-" ■ 'She is too pale; she will not be .permitted to stay in the country,' her compatriots whispered among themselves. ' ' ---*"• - ■<-■-- ' She has been ill, but she will -soon be strong again,' said the ' mother of. the -family in whose ca-re she • has made the iourhey. ' -. ' • . ' I_ am Marta Franconi,' declared the girl -to the interpreter. "I am "come out' to marry " my betrothed, who should be here to meet me. VHe lives "just over in California ; surely if he is not here to-day he will come to-morrow.' - -_ .-, . , When Marta remained day ■ after day in ,the lodg-* ing >of the detained women '.immigrants, .and yet he did not come, with unfailing trust she still had recourse .to -the sweet confidante of! her maiden heart, the blessed Madonna. Finally word came from the tranquil orange valley in the 'distant West : 'My son Gaetano disappeared - the day we got word that his betrothed was dying,' Giordano wrote to the ..commissioner. 'We know, not whether he is living or dead.' ' .- '"- . ' By her handiwork Marta had shown that she could earn her bread. She was released accordingly, but only to find that the family with whom - she came over had migrated to some other place. One evening on her way home from work, :Marta stopped at a little church" in^ the crowded Italian quarter. Here she always found comfort^ - Here" the sweet face of the Madonna lo"bked down at her from the -gilded- frame of a bcauitifiuil picture as through., a window oL heaven. Marta . had been ve-y lonely to-night,,; -but, "t his' pause where the light of the chancel lamp . led", like a star to the Door of Peace made her brave again. Just as she was afoofit to go out a man came in ' qaiietly and knelt .at the back of the church. - Marta rose from 'her ' knees and turned 'to .go out into the ■ world, taking up the burden of life once more. ' - . - ~ . - As she drew "near the man kneeling at the"' last - bench, her attention was in some way attracted to him. • „ .. * ' 'He is a sailor, or just/from" -a, voyage,,' she . said idly to herself. . .-. He raised his eyes. Marta caught* at the back of a bench to l'sep from falling. - - Was this an apparition f ' Gaetano ! ' she gasped. ' Gaetano !.' He had stared at her like ojie in a "dream, .but now he started up. - . ' Yes, Gaetano ! ' he cried. ' Ah, carissima mia, from across the mountains and over the seas 1 have sought you long.' v - ' ' ■ - ' I waited, mio caro, hut when T 'ett?r ottbc fever, and- my uncle to .lurry me 10 Gui'do, the vine-dresser, my -ir other let me come- to join you as we planned,' "stammered Marta in an^ecstacy of happiness. - • ' ' Giorja mia, when landing in Italy and walking many a mile, I reached yoiu- village,' he said, l 1-h.ey terid me you had come to America with the <ie Sorios. As soon as might be, I got work on- a ship again to return to the United States and seek you.' But I was too eager to be cautious. , Aftejc, we sailed I discovered we were bound' for Argen"tinaf= '^Only~now have I got back to New York. To-day T searched through .this- quarter for ihe de Sorios, but thev 2 have iisappear~ed. Those who remeTmhercd them declared that no-young girl was with them. "When I spoke your- name, Marta, no one knew or had" 1 heard of -you. A- few moments since, passing along the. -street, I came. -to this open door. " I will go into the church," .1 .thought, " and at least give thanks that our ship was. not lost in the storm we encountered when coming up the coast." And so, beloved, as by chance— 'but -no,, surely it was a .providence —I have found you. "Ah, truly, God is good.' '" £ Y.es. ' Though so' near, ' how " easily we might- have beeni again lost to each otbeu:, ' said Marta, trembling at the very mention of the 'danger escaped. Next day Gaetano and his. betrothed were married in the • little church. , - - r. , , . ; 1 The publication of an advertisement in a Catholic .paper shows that the advertiser not only desires the patronage^ of . Catholics, but pays them the compliment of seeking it through the medium of their own relipious journal.' So says an esteemed and%wMerawaHe- American contemporary. A word, to the wise is sufficient....