THE END OF THE NOVENA. The lady abbess was caught; she said, “I presume any wish of yours will be responded to." 167 Angelique was not present; she had probably sought the seclusion of her cell. Annie, as if now for the first time conscious of the absence of Angelique, requested her own affectionate love, and Gertrude's, to be conveyed to her. Gertrude spoke : 66 May I ask permission to send her a bridal ring, lady abbess?" taking off a diamond from her finger. The lady abbess was pleased to take it, and gave it to a young nun to convey it to Angelique. And she shortly returned with a slip of paper, which she presented to the lady abbess, who, having read it, gave it, with a smile of approval, to Gertrude. It read thus: "Angelique to her beloved friends, thanks!" Again the business of leave-taking was renewed. And, surrounded by a troop of nuns, they left the lady abbess, and came to the gate, which was opened,—not a little hole in the gate just large enough for one to squeeze through, as was usually the case, but the double-barred and many-bolted doors were thrown back, and the party came out. Gertrude, just before leaving, kissed the nun who brought the slip from Angelique, saying, "Give this to Angelique, from me." "And this," said Annie, kissing the nun, "from me." CHAPTER XXXII. THE MIRACLE OF ST. AGATHA. THE Conversation between the cardinal and Annie turned, one evening, upon modern miracles. "I have read a work by Conyers Middleton," said Annie; "and it led me to believe that there has never been a miracle since the days of the apostles." "Does not Gibbon acknowledge the miracle of the balls of fire in the attempt of Julian the Apostate; and are you a greater infidel than Gibbon ? and of those confessors whose tongues were cut out, spoken of by Socrates, the historian, and who were able to speak ever after without tongues? There are no facts in history better vouched for than these." "But I meant modern miracles," said Annie. "As for those fire-balls, I believe they have never been explained; but as for the necessity of a tongue for talking, that has been explained by the case of a girl in Cumberland, England, reported in the Transactions of the Royal Society, whose tongue was extirpated, and she not only talked, but sang. "Ah! she was a woman!" replied the cardinal. "O, your Eminence!" cried Annie, "I did not think you would, ven in badinage, use that argument to me! "Pardon me, lady, if I have offended. But what do you call a modern miracle? Will St. Augustine t be authority? He *Decline and Fall: 2 vol., p. 439, chapter XXIII. MODERN MIRACLES. 169 says he saw a woman, in his days, whose sight was restored at the translation of the relics of St. Stephen." Annie shook her head. "Then there's the story of the miraculous thorn at Port Royal; that must be accredited by you, for it is told by Jacqueline Pascal himself—" "O!" said Annie, "all those are too far off. I want to see a miracle." "You are a most unreasonable person, truly," the cardinal said, somewhat severely. "I think you would have remained faithless and unbelieving, had the Saviour asked you, instead of Thomas, to have tested the reality of his presence, even after thrusting your hand into his side." This reproof sobered Annie, and she changed the conversation; and, before the evening closed, nothing could be more charming than the amiable relations subsisting between the cardinal and his friend Annie. Poor Blanco came in on that evening alone; and Gertrude took him out on the balcony and told him all she had to communicate, and handed him the ring and the diamond edition of Diodati. He received both with emotion. The ring he begged Gertrude to wear as a memorial of those who were soon to pass away. The Testament he put in his bosom. They had just reseated themselves, when Diego whispered to Blanco that Father Geriot was waiting for him. The father had come to the palace, but was met by Ursula, who told him the cardinal was there, and, moreover, she wanted to speak with him. To this delay was poor Blanco indebted for the painful and yet most intensely interesting conversation now held with Gertrude. "Come, my dear friends!" cried Mrs. May, as she came in, a few days after their return from the nunnery; "come and witness, with your own eyes, the miraculously restored body of St. Agatha, recently discovered under the high altar of the old church, near the Forum. Don't lose any time, for all St. Peter's is in an uproar of excitement." "Ursula, bring down our bonnets and scarfs," said Annie. "And now sit down, Mrs. May, and tell us what it is we are to see, and where we are to go." Mrs. May sat down, and recovered herself with some difficulty to relate soberly what she had been told. And it was, that in repairing the high altar in the Church of St. Martine,* the workmen accidentally removed a slate which opened to a chamber where lay the body of St. Agatha, — known to be St. Agatha because one of her breasts was cut off, the same that is worshipped at Palermo; and that the body was just as she lived, only darkened by age, but that the features were flexible, as was the form; and, what was wonderful, she shed tears when she was taken up, as if it grieved her to be taken away from that ancient shrine. It had been kept a secret for months, until the conclave and his Holiness had become entirely satisfied by the severest scrutiny; and now it was to be installed in the Church of St. Maria Maggiore on that day, and the whole city was in motion to get in, and the Prince Bishop had sent her, by his con *It was in this way the body of St. Martine was found, with two other martyrs, S. S. Concordius and Epiphanius, in the year 1624, under the high altar of this old Roman church. So says Boldetti, cited by D. Rock, D.D., "Hierurgia,” p. 275. fessor, medals and directions at what door to be set down in order to secure admittance. "Do you know in what this differs from other saints?' asked Frank. "In this, Mr. Trueman," said Mrs. May, her zeal giving great earnestness to her manner of speaking. "We have heard of madonnas who winked, and sometimes at very wicked men, as Monsignori Bedini, the Austrian butcher of Bologna; and of others who have shed tears; but, then, their features retained their immobility. But I am told the entire face of St. Agatha changes from a sweet smile to a tender sorrow, and she bows her head with perfect naturalness." "Come, let us all go!" cried Annie; and Ursula having already brought their bonnets and scarfs, gloves and fans, the ladies were ready in five minutes by the watch. We are particular to state this fact, because it was a most conspicuous trait in our ladies that they never were behind time, and never spent a half-hour in shawling and getting ready to go out. And away they all went; and, following the directions, were set down at a back entrance, where they found one of the bishop's priests waiting to convey them to chairs placed at the base of a pillar, in front of the altar, reserved for them. Here they were safe from the crowd, which already filled the vast edifice, the surging of whose movements became alarming. St. Agatha stood shrouded on a pedestal before them. Mass was said and sung. The choir was never so full, and every voice was strung to the utmost; while the great organ poured forth its thunders, volumed and vast, over the sea of heads which filled the pavement. The altar was filled with lights, and before the newly-recovered saint there was a triple |