up in bed. Throwing back her disordered hair, she
shrieked in a loud voice, "Oh, it hurts me, it hurts me so here--it
hurts, hurts, hurts!"

"It hurts, hurts, hurts!" shrieked her mother. [Pg 111] She did not
know that she was repeating the same words.

Rosa tore her dress open, her breast heaved and sank as she gasped for
breath in her terror. Then she clung to her mother, and hiding her face
in her neck she whimpered, "Carry me out of the kitchen again, carry me
up the dark stairs, oh, Holy Mother, that I needn't fear. Put me down,
keep me warm--hail, Mary, thou that art highly favoured"--(the child's
voice had grown soft and low)--"how beautiful thou art--I love
thee--hail, Mary, blessed art thou among women--blessed--the fruit--of
thy womb----"

Her words grew more and more indistinct, until they at last became
nothing but an incoherent murmur.

Ah, now Rosa saw the Holy Virgin. Seized with a superstitious terror,
Mrs. Tiralla loosened the child's arms from about her neck. What did
Rosa see? What did she hear? Did she really see something? If only Rosa
could find out something which could be of use to her--her!

The child had fallen back on her bed heavy and stiff. Spurred on by an
intense eagerness her mother leant over her and whispered:

"Ask the Holy Virgin--tell the Holy Virgin that I'll let ten candles
burn before her on the altar--ten wax candles--she's to release
me--Glisten, all she's to do is to release me."

Rosa was silent. She did not hear. Although her eyes were wide open,
she did not seem to see her mother's terrified, excited mien, nor her
burning, piercing looks, so full of entreaty.

"Listen!" Mrs. Tiralla's voice sounded almost fierce as she shouted to
the child. "Listen, listen!" she repeated several times, in an
impressive voice. [Pg 112] "Tell the Holy Virgin she's to release me--I
want to be released--I must be released--listen, listen!"

All at once a convulsive movement passed over Rosa's face. Her mother
bent over her, lower and lower, full of trembling eagerness. The
child's staring eyes began to move, and her mouth as well.

"You'll be released," she stammered, as though in her sleep. "The dear
Virgin hears all prayers--she is smiling--ah, how she's smiling."

Bearing herself up once more, and stretching out her arms, the
over-excited child burst into tears.

Her mother wiped the tears and beads of perspiration away from her face
with her trembling hands. Oh, her little dre