Chapter 3
Mary in Prison
We have already said that Mary was in a faint when she was carried off to prison.
When she recovered to realise her condition, she burst into passionate sobbing, but at length, clasping her hands together, she fell down on her knees in prayer.
Overcome with terror at her surroundings, filled with sadness at the thought of being separated from her old father, and wearied with the excitement of the day, she threw herself upon her hard straw couch and fell into a heavy sleep.
When she awoke it was so dark that she could hardly distinguish a single object.
At first, she could not remember where she was. The story of the lost ring came back to her as a dream, and her first idea was that she was sleeping in her own little bed.
Suddenly she felt that her hands were chained.
Instantly, all the sad reality of the past day flashed upon her mind, and, jumping from her bed, she cried out, “What can I do but raise my heart to God?”
Falling upon her knees, Mary then engaged in prayer.
She prayed for herself, that she might be delivered, but especially she prayed for her dear father, that in the trouble which had now come upon him, the Lord might support him.
The thought of her father brought a torrent of tears from her eyes and stopped her prayer.
Suddenly the moon, which had been covered with thick clouds, now shone in a clear sky and its rays coming through the iron grating in the prison wall, threw a silvery light on the floor of Mary’s cell.
By the light thus afforded, Mary could make out the large bricks of which the walls of her prison were built, the white mortar which united them, and the place in the wall serving as a table on which her meals were placed.
Although her surroundings were so miserable, Mary felt that the moonlight had soothed her heart.
To her astonishment, she became conscious of a sweet perfume filling her cell.
Suddenly she remembered that in the morning she had placed in her bosom a bouquet of roses and other sweet flowers which remained from the basket.
Taking it in her hand, she untied it and looked at the flowers in the moonlight. “Alas,” said she mournfully, “when I gathered these rosebuds and forget-me-nots from my garden this morning, who would have thought that I should be confined in this gloomy prison in the evening? When I wore garlands of flowers, who would have imagined that on the same day, I should be doomed to wear iron chains?”
Then she thought of her father, and tears fell from her eyes and moistened the flowers she held in her hand.
“Oh, my dear father,” she said, “how this bouquet reminds me of the advice which you have given me. From the midst of thorns, I plucked these rosebuds; and thus I know that joy will come to me from the very troubles which now cause me pain. If I had attempted with my own hands to unfold the leaves of these rosebuds, they would have perished; but God with delicate fingers had gradually unfolded their purple cups and shed over them the sweet perfume of His breath. He can disperse the evils which now surround me, and make that which seem like all evil turn to my good. Let me then patiently wait out His time. These flowers remind me of Him who created them. I will remember Him as He remembers me.
“These tender forget-me-nots, as blue as the heavens, may even be my silent consolation in all the sufferings of earth. Here are some sweet-peas with small delicate leaves, half white, half red. The plant grows and winds itself around a support, that it may not grope in the dust. And while it balances itself above the earth it displays its flowers, which might be taken for butterflies’ wings. In this way, I will cling to God and by His help raise myself above the miseries of this earth.
“This mignonette is the chief source of the perfume which fills my cell. Sweet plant, you cheer by your perfume the one who plucked you from your home in the earth. I will try to imitate you and to do good even to those who without cause have torn me from my garden and thrown me into this prison. Here is a little sprig of peppermint, the emblem of hope. I also will preserve hope now that the time of suffering is come. Here again are two leaves of laurel. They remind me of that crown incorruptible, which is reserved in heaven for all who love the Lord and have submitted to His will upon the earth. Already I think I see it, surrounded with golden rays. Flowers of the earth, you are short-lived, as are its joys. You fade and wither in an instant; but in heaven, after our short suffering on the earth, an unchangeable joy awaits us and an eternal glory in Christ Jesus.”
Talking thus to herself, Mary found her heart gradually grow consoled. Suddenly a dark cloud covered the moon; darkness filled the prison.
Her flowers were blotted out from her sight, and grief again took possession of her heart.
But the cloud was merely temporary, and in a little while the moon reappeared more beautiful than ever.
“Thus,” reflected Mary, “clouds can be cast over us, but it is only for a little, and at the end, we shine clearly again. If a dark suspicion hangs over my character, God will make me triumphant over every false accusation.”
The thought brought comfort to her; and Mary, stretching herself upon her bed of straw, slept as calmly as a little child.
In her sleep, she dreamed a beautiful dream. It seemed to her that she was walking by moonlight in a garden that was quite new to her, situated in a wilderness surrounded by a dark forest of oak trees.
By the light of the moon, which had never appeared to her so brilliant or so beautiful before, she saw hundreds of flowers in this garden displaying their charms and filling the air with sweet perfume.
Best of all, she dreamed that her father was with her in this beautiful place. The moon shining on his face showed his venerable countenance lighted by a gracious smile.
Running to him, she fell on his bosom and shed tears of joy, with which her cheeks were wet when suddenly she awoke. It had only been a dream, but it comforted her heart, and she slept again.✿