Then he took from the hands of the Abbe the
crucifix, and approached the sufferer that he might make her kiss it.
But Angelique was still unconscious: her eyes were closed, her mouth
shut, her hands rigid, and looking like the little stiff figures of
stone placed upon tombs. He examined her for a moment, and, seeing by
the slight movement of her chest that she was not dead, he placed upon
her lips the crucifix. He waited. His face preserved the majesty of
a minister of penitence, and no signs of emotion were visible when he
realised that not even a quivering had passed over the exquisite profile
of the young girl, nor in her beautiful hair. She still lived, however,
and that was sufficient for the redemption of her sins.
The Abbe then gave to Monseigneur the vessel of holy water and the
asperges brush, and while he held open before him the ritual book, he
threw the holy water upon the dying girl, as he read the Latin words,
_Asperges me, Domine, hyssopo et mundabor: lavabis me, et super nivem
dealbabor_. ("Thou shalt sprinkle me with hyssop, and I shall be clean:
thou shalt wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.")
The drops sprang forth in every direction, and the whole bed was
refreshed by them as if sprinkled with dew.
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