ngulfing it all. The candles diffused a
yellowish, ghastly light that seemed to steep everything in
boundless grief.

The room filled up completely with kneeling people and only she, who
lay there rigid, unconscious, and dying, reigned from the throne of
death over that bowed throng begging for mercy.

An old man with silvery gray hair made his way to the bed, knelt
down, took a prayer book from his pocket and, by the light of the
candle, began to read the Penitential Psalms. He had a clear and
melodious voice and the words of the psalms, like a murmuring
rainbow, or like flashes of lightning full of terror, tears, might,
and heavenly grace, floated above the heads of all those present:

"Have mercy upon me, O Lord, for I am weak; O Lord, heal me, for my
bones are vexed."

"Thou art my hiding place; Thou shalt preserve me from trouble . . ."

"Many sorrows shall be to the wicked, but he that trusteth in the
Lord, mercy shall compass him about."

"My lovers and my friends stand aloof from my sore and my kinsmen
stand afar off."

"They also that seek after my life lay snares for me; and they that
seek for my hurt speak mischievous things and imagine deceits all
day long."

The words rang out ever stronger and eddied through the air like the
breath of a mighty power that bent low all foreheads and cast them
down into the dust with tears of sorrow, penance, and supplication.
All those present repeated them after the old man and that confused,
tearful and monotonous murmur of voices awoke Janina from her
torpor. She felt that she was still alive, so she knelt down on the
threshold of the room and with fever-parched lips whispered those
sweet words long since forgotten, and drew from them a deep comfort
full of sadness and tenderness.

"Purge me with hyssop and I shall be clean; wash me and I shall be
whiter than snow."

"Hide not thy face from me, lest I be like unto them that go down
into the pit."

"And of thy mercy cut off mine enemies, and destroy all them that
afflict my soul, for I am thy servant."

She repeated the words fervently and large tears rolled down her
face, uniting with the tears of all the other mourners and purging
her soul of all sorrows and memory of what had passed. But after a
while those tears began to stream so freely and stifle her so that
Janina quietly arose and left the place.

On the street she met Wladek running toward the house in haste and
fear. He stopped to ask her about