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 OUTCAST ’ 211
there was a fire in his eyes, and little pale roses in
his cheeks.
It was the image, the image. When Fra Felice
had rung the four-o’clock matins that morning he
had gone into the church to look at him.
Then he had discovered that big stones had loosened
from the dome just over the image. They had
fallen on the altar and broken it to pieces, but the
image had stood untouched. And none of the plaster
and dust that had tumbled down had fallen on the
image; it was quite uninjured.
Fra Felice took Donna Micaela’s hand and told
her that she must go with him to the church and
see the miracle. She should see it before any one,
because she had taken care of the image.
And Donna Micaela went with him through the
gray, chilly morning to his monastery, while her
heart throbbed with eagerness and expectation.
When she arrived and saw that Fra Felice had
told the truth, she said to him that she had
recognized the image as soon as she had caught sight of *
it, and that she knew that it could work miracles.
“ He is the greatest and gentlest of miracle-workers,”
she said.
Fra Felice went up to the image and looked into
its eyes. For there is a great difference in images,
and the wisdom of an old monk is needed to
understand which has power and which has not. Now
Fra Felice saw that this image’s eyes were deep and
glowing, as if they had life; and that on its lips
hovered a mysterious smile.
Then old Fra Felice fell on his knees and stretched
his clasped hands towards the image, and his old
shrivelled face was lighted by a great joy.
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