the angelic deliverer and the liberated soul, now became angelic
in brilliancy, paused to look and smile on Alvira.

Her heart leaped, her soul trembled. She recognized the features.
In a convulsive effort to utter the loved name of Aloysia, the vision
passed away, and she found herself in the dark church and on the cold
flags, weeping away the overflow of a heart too full of joy.

Chapter XXIX.

Unexpected Meeting.

Late on a cold night in the winter of 1706 a sick-call came to the
Jesuit college attached to the Gesu. Alvira Cassier was ill, and
requested the attendance of one of the fathers.

Some months had passed since the consoling vision in which she saw
the purified soul of Aloysia carried to a crown of immortal bliss.
Since then the great St. Francis had passed to his crown. His holy
spirit hovered in protecting love over Alvira. She recurred to him
in her troubles, and always with remarkable success. Miracles of
cures and conversion, effected through the humble prayers of the
penitent and the powerful intercession of the deceased apostle, are
registered in the great book of life, to be read on the great
accounting-day.

Alvira sighed over the prolongation of her exile. Her heart longed
to be with Christ; she soared in spirit over the abyss that separated
her from the object she loved.

Yet two more signs were to announce the happy moment of her freedom.
She knew the fate of Aloysia, raised from the searching flame and
introduced to the saints, was the first of these favors promised
by St. Francis. The other was equally extraordinary.

The illness of Alvira caused a sigh of regret at the Jesuit College.
Every one whose heart was interested in the glory of God would have
reason to sigh over her lost example, her influence over sinners, and
the edification of her exalted virtues.

A priest is wrapped in his cloak; he carries the most Holy Sacrament
and the holy oils. A levite accompanies him, carrying a lamp and
ringing a bell. Unmindful of the inclemency of the weather, they
move on through the abandoned streets, now filled by crowds of unseen
angels, who take the place of man and honor the Holy of Holies.

The priest is a young Frenchman who has just come to Naples. To
confer a favor on Alvira, the superior sent him to St. Francis's
penitent that she might have the consolation of her own language
at the trying hour of her death. He is a tall, thin figure on the
decline of manhoo