offense he had given.

During the evening he had begged to be laid on the bare ground, that
he might die as a penitent. Toward midnight, as he still asked it,
they lifted him on the little mattress of his bed and placed him on
it upon the floor. There he lay, very quiet, whilst midnight tolled
from the great churches of the city. The Fathers knelt beside him,
praying silently with him, or giving him from time to time the
crucifix to kiss.

At length, about three o'clock in the morning, he stopped praying,
and a great joy shone in his face. He looked about him from side to
side, and seemed with his eyes to ask his companions to join him in
reverencing some one who was present.

Father Ruiz bent over and asked him:

What is it, Stanislaus?

"Our Lady!" he whispered. "Our Lady has come, just as in Vienna."

Then he seemed to listen to voices they could not hear. His lips
moved silently, forming inaudible words. His eyes were bright and
joyful. He stretched out his arms, fell back, and died with a smile
upon his lips. Our Lady had come for him, and with her he went
home. Dawn was breaking on the Feast of the Assumption, 1568.


CHAPTER XV