“By their manner of saluting me. I have been these seven years under their direction, and I knew who they were because they told me.”
“Whose was the first Voice that came to you when you were thirteen years old?”
“It was the Voice of St. Michael. I saw him before my eyes; and he was not alone, but attended by a cloud of angels.”
“Did you see the archangel and the attendant angels in the body, or in the spirit?”
“I saw them with the eyes of my body, just as I see you; and when they went away I cried because they did not take me with them.”
It made me see that awful shadow again that fell dazzling white upon her that day under l’Arbre Fee de Bourlemont, and it made me shiver again, though it was so long ago. It was really not very long gone by, but it seemed so, because so much had happened since.
“In what shape and form did St. Michael appear?”
“As to that, I have not received permission to speak.”
“What did the archangel say to you that first time?”
“I cannot answer you to-day.”