r shall I forget the sight that greeted
my eyes. Upon the bed lay a childish form, with a small, refined face,
the pallor of which was intensified by contrast with the large dark
eyes, that now had a half startled, expectant, indescribable
expression. The sufferer had evidently reached the crisis of a
malarial fever; reason had returned unclouded; but from that strange,
bright look, I felt that there was no hope of recovery.

How shall I find words to portray what followed! The others waited
beside the door; but Father Friday advanced a few steps, then paused,
so as not to frighten her by approaching abruptly. As he stood there
in his cassock, with his hand raised in benediction, and wearing, as I
knew, the Blessed Sacrament upon his breast, I realized more fully than
ever before the grandeur of the priestly mission to humanity. The
girl's roving glance was arrested by the impressive figure; but how
little were any of us prepared for the effect upon her! The dark eyes
lighted up with joyful recognition, her cheek flushed, and with a glad
cry she started up, exclaiming, "Thank God, my prayer is granted! God
has sent a priest to me before I die!"

Had a miracle been wrought before us we could not have been more
astounded. Instinctively I fell upon my knees. Mirandy followed my
example; and Josh looked as if he would like to do so too, but was not
quite sure how to manage it.

Father Friday drew nearer.

"I knew you would come, Father," she continued, with a happy smile.
"This is what I have prayed for ever since I have been lying here. I
thought you would come to-day; for since early morning I have been
imploring the Blessed Virgin to obtain this favor for me."

She sank back on the pillow exhausted, but after a few minutes revived
once more.

It was apparent, however, that there was no time to be lost. I
beckoned Josh and his wife out into the kitchen, and left Father Friday
to hear her confession. Soon he recalled us. I have but to close my
eyes to see it all as if it were yesterday: the altar hastily arranged
upon a small deal table; the flickering tallow dips, the only light to
do homage to the divine Guest; the angelic expression of the dying girl
as she received the Holy Viaticum.

After that we all withdrew, Father Friday and I going out by the fire
again. He resumed his breviary, and I remained silently musing upon
all that had passed within the last hour. After a few moments he
paused, wit