Note: Translator Pauline Bancroft Flach died in 1966, less than 70 years ago. Therefore, this work is protected by copyright, restricting your legal rights to reproduce it. However, you are welcome to view it on screen, as you do now. Read more about copyright.
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THE BELLS OF SAN PASQUALE ’ 89
Only prayed, only prayed! But she had also
promised her to lay aside all sins. She had gone to
the street where she had lived first, and nursed the
sick woman with the ulcerated leg. She never
passed a beggar without giving alms.
Only prayed! And she told him that if the
Madonna had had the power to help her, she ought
to have been satisfied with her prayers. She had
spent her days in the Cathedral. And the anguish,
the anguish that tortured her, should not that be
counted ?
He only shrugged his shoulders. Had she not
tried anything else?
Anything else! But there was nothing in the
world that she had not tried. She had given silver
hearts and wax candles. Her rosary was never out
of her hand.
Gaetano irritated her. He would not count
anything that she had done; he only asked: “Nothing
else? Nothing else?”
“But you ought to understand,” she said. “Don
Ferrante does not give me so much money. I
cannot do more. At last I have succeeded in getting
some silk and cloth for an altar cloth. You ought
to understand!”
But Gaetano, who had daily intercourse with the
saints, and who knew the power and wildness of
enthusiasm that had filled them when they had
compelled God to obey their prayers, smiled
scornfully at Donna Micaela, who thought she could
subjugate the Madonna with wax candles and
altar-cloths.
He understood very well, he answered. The
whole was clear to him. It was always so with
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