The woman’s sobs grew quieter, as she felt Odette’s pure cool mouth upon her fevered face. “Who are you?” she kept asking her, “Who are you?”
And Odette in her baby voice whispered back, “The Holy Virgin has sent me, in order to make you well!”
Presently the woman calmed herself, and sat staring at the shining river, as though she had quite forgotten that Odette was beside her.
“Tell me what is the matter,” Odette said at length, “and I will try to help you.”
The woman looked at her kindly: “How should you understand what is the matter?” she said, “You, who have lived always with good people, far away from the temptations of the world, what have you to do with the likes of us?”
“I do not understand,” said Odette, looking at the woman with great questioning eyes.
“And may you never understand, little one,” said the woman, kissing her. “When I was but a wee mite I heard the preaching folk tell of God and the Angels. You must be one of them, I think?”
“Oh! no, Oh! no,” said Odette, “I am not an angel, but I have been sent by the Queen of Heaven to save you here to-night.”
The woman looked at her curiously. “You came only just in time,” she said, and again her eyes strayed towards the river.
“Let me give you this silver cross,” Odette said, changing it from her own neck to the woman’s. “Keep it always, for it is holy, and is a sign that Jesus came into the world to die for us.”