CHAPTER XVIII.

Return to the nunnery.

While we remained at this place I was not punished in any of the usual methods.  Perhaps they thought the exposure to a burning sun, and a severe headache, sufficient to keep me in subjection without any other infliction.  But immediately on my return to the nunnery I was again subjected to the same cruel, capricious, and unreasonable punishment.

On the first day after my return one of the priests came into the kitchen where I was at work, and I hastened to give him the usual respectful salutation, which I have before described.  But he took hold of my arm and said, “What do you look so cross for?” And without giving me time to reply, even if I had dared to do so, he added, “I’ll teach you not to look cross at me.”  He left the room, with an expression of countenance that frightened me.  I was not aware of looking cross at him, though I must confess I had suffered so much at his hands already, I did not feel very happy in his presence; yet I always endeavored to treat him with all due respect.  Certainly his accusation against me in this instance was as false as it was cruel.  But what of that?  I was only a nun, and who would care if I was punished unjustly?  The priest soon returned with a band of leather, or something of the kind, into which thorns were fastened in such numbers that the inside was completely covered with them.  This he fastened around my head with the points of the thorns pressing into the skin, and drew it so tight that the blood ran in streams over my neck and shoulders.  I wore this band, or “crown of thorns;” as they called it, for six hours, and all the time continued my work as usual.  Then I thought of the “crown of thorns” our Saviour wore when he gave his life a ransom for the sins of the world.  I thought I could realize something of his personal agony, and the prayer of my soul went up to heaven for grace to follow his example and forgive my tormentors.

From this time I was punished every day while I remained there, and for the most simple things.  It was evident they wished to break down my spirit, but it only confirmed me in my resolution to get away from them as soon as possible.

One day I chanced to close the door a little too hard.  It was mere accident, but for doing it they burned me with red hot tongs.  They kept them in the fire till they were red hot, then plunged them into cold water, drew them out as quickly as possible, and immediately applied them to my arms or feet.  The skin would, of course adhere to the iron, and it would sometime burn down to the bone before they condescended to remove it.  At another time I was cruelly burned on my arms and shoulders for not standing erect.  The flesh was deep in some places, and the agony I suffered was intolerable.  I thought of the stories the Abbess used to tell me years before about the martyrs who were burned at the stake.  But I had not a martyr’s faith, and I could not imitate their patience and resignation.  The sores made on these occasions were long in healing, and to this day I bear upon my person the scars caused by these frequent burnings.