"I hold thee in my arms,
And never cease to think.
What would become of thee, my angel,
If I should be taken from thee.
The little angels of heaven--"
The childish song was interrupted by a heavy solemn stroke of the church bell. Its vibration died away in the air slowly and gradually, as if mounting to other regions.
"His Majesty!" said all, rising to their feet.
Anna prayed aloud for the one who was about to receive the last sacraments.
"For whom can it be?" said Maria. "I do not know of any one that is dangerously sick in the place."
Rita looked out of the window and asked of a woman that was passing, who was the sick person?
"I do not know," she answered, "but it is some one out of the village."
Another woman cried as she approached, "Mercy! it is a murder, for the magistrate and the surgeon have followed the priest as fast as they could!"
"God help him!" they all exclaimed, with that profound and terrible emotion which is excited by those awful words, a murder!
"And who can it be?" asked Rita.