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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242 THE MIR A CLES OF ANTICHRIST
being greeted with deep reverences. I know no
greater gift for a poor monk, Donna Elisa.”
Donna Elisa thought how revered and loved Fra
Felice had been, because he had been able to
predict what numbers would come out in the lottery.
And she could not help agreeing with him.
“ If I came wandering along the road in the heat,”
said Fra Felice, “the shepherd came to me and
went with me a long way, and held his umbrella
over me as shelter against the sun. And when I
came to the laborers in the cool stone-quarries, they
shared their bread and their bean-soup with me. I
have never been afraid of brigands nor of carabinieri.
The official at the custom-house has shut his eyes
when I went by with my bag. It has been a good
gift, Donna Elisa.”
“True, true,” said Donna Elisa.
“It has not been an arduous profession,” said
Fra Felice. “They spoke to me, and I answered
them; that was all. They knew that every word
has its number, and they noticed what I said and
played accordingly. I never knew how it happened,
Donna Elisa; it was a gift from God.”
“ You will be a great loss to the poor people, Fra
Felice,” said Donna Elisa.
Fra Felice smiled. “They care nothing for me
on Sunday and Monday, when there has just been a
drawing,” he said. “But they come on Thursday
and Friday and on Saturday morning, because there
is a drawing every Saturday.”
Donna Elisa began to be anxious, because the
dying man thought of nothing but that. Suddenly
there flashed across her memory thoughts of one and
another who had lost in the lottery, and she remem-
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