CHAPTER VIII

IN DANGER OF DEATH

Two years of loneliness; when his brother and his cousins and his
tutor, who should have been his comrades, were his persecutors; two
years in which he was always under a strain, always having to
control his anger, to be patient and sweet-tempered amidst a
thousand vexations; two years, moreover, in which the bodily
exercise he was used to, and which he needed as every growing boy
needs it, was cut down to a minimum; two such years would have
broken the health even of a grown, strong man. And Stanislaus was
not a grown, strong man, but a boy of sixteen. It is remarkable
that he should have held out so long. It shows what courage and
goodness and trust in God can do. But finally, towards the end of
November, 1566, his body and brain could stand it no longer. He
fell sick, with fever.

He was not a baby. He did not complain, or even tell any one that
he felt unwell. He kept to his feet for weeks, trying to go on as
usual with his work and his prayers. The feast of Saint Barbara, who
had been the patroness of the boys' sodality in Vienna, was drawing
near. Stanislaus prepared for it with particular care and devotion.
Saint Barbara was the patroness of a happy death and her clients
always besought of her the special grace of receiving the Holy
Viaticum when dying.

December 4th, the feast of the Saint, came and passed. Stanislaus
grew weaker, his fever increased. About the middle of the month he
had to keep his bed, and his condition quickly became serious. Then