“Yet three days,” said a voice faint, hollow, and sepulchral; “Yet three days, and we meet again!”
Antonia shuddered at the words.
“We meet again?” She pronounced at length with difficulty: “Where shall we meet? Whom shall I meet?”
The figure pointed to the ground with one hand, and with the other raised the Linen which covered its face.
“Almighty God! My Mother!”
Antonia shrieked, and fell lifeless upon the floor.
Dame Jacintha who was at work in a neighbouring chamber, was alarmed by the cry: Flora was just gone down stairs to fetch fresh oil for the Lamp, by which they had been sitting. Jacintha therefore hastened alone to Antonia’s assistance, and great was her amazement to find her extended upon the floor. She raised her in her arms, conveyed her to her apartment, and placed her upon the Bed still senseless. She then proceeded to bathe her temples, chafe her hands, and use all possible means of bringing her to herself. With some difficulty She succeeded. Antonia opened her eyes, and looked round her wildly.
“Where is She?” She cried in a trembling voice; “Is She gone? Am I safe? Speak to me! Comfort me! Oh! speak to me for God’s sake!”
“Safe from whom, my Child?” replied the astonished Jacintha; “What alarms you? Of whom are you afraid?”
“In three days! She told me that we should meet in three days! I heard her say it! I saw her, Jacintha, I saw her but this moment!”