At first she is frightened and starts up as if she wished to escape. Donna Elisa is also frightened, and they look at one another as if they had never met before. Then Donna Micaela says in a very low voice: “You have come to pray for him, sister-in-law.” And the people see her move a little way along so that Donna Elisa may have room directly in front of the image.
Donna Elisa’s hand trembles so that she has to set the lantern down on the floor, and her voice is quite hoarse as she says: “Has none other but you been here to-night, Micaela?”—“No, none other.”
Donna Elisa has to support herself against the wall to keep from falling, and Donna Micaela sees it. She is instantly beside her and puts her arm about her waist. “Sit down, sit down!” She leads her to the altar platform and kneels down in front of her. “Is he so ill? We will pray for him.”
“Micaela,” says Donna Elisa, “I thought that I should find help here.”—“Yes, you shall see, you will.”—“I dreamed that the image came to me, that he came to me and said that I was to come here.”—“He has also helped us many times before.”—“But he said this to me: ‘Make the unhappy woman who is on her knees praying before my altar your son’s wife, then your son will be well.’”—“What do you say that he said?”—“I was to make her who was kneeling and praying out here my son’s wife.”—“And you were willing to do it? You did not know whom you would meet!”
“On the way I made a vow—and those who followed me heard it—that whoever it might be, I would take her in my arms and lead her to my home. I thought that it was some poor woman whom God wished to help.”—“It is one indeed.”—“I was in despair when I saw that there was no one here but you.”
Donna Micaela does not answer; she gazes up at the image. “Is it your will? Is it your will?” she whispers anxiously.
Donna Elisa continues to bemoan herself. “I saw him so plainly, and he has never deceived before. I thought that some poor girl who had no marriage portion had prayed to him for a husband. Such things have happened before. What shall I do now?”
She laments and bewails; she cannot get away from the thought that it ought to be a poor woman. Donna Micaela grows impatient. She takes her by the arm and shakes her. “But Donna Elisa, Donna Elisa!”
Donna Elisa does not listen to her; she continues her laments. “What shall I do? what shall I do?”
“Why, make the poor woman who was kneeling and praying here your son’s wife, Donna Elisa!”