He heeded neither the cry nor the movement among those up above,
who parted, allowing the two women to pass. Being unable to persuade the
crowd to rise, he himself fell upon his knees. Then those around him
rose, and the excited movement and the cry of _"La_ _miracolata, la
miracolata!"_ having reached them, they forced him to rise also; he did
not seem to have heard. _"La miracolata!"_ each one repeated to
him. _"La miracolata!"_ And they searched his face for a trace of
satisfaction at the miracle, with eyes that called out "She is coming to
you! You have healed her!" They acted as if he had not spoken to them
only a few minutes before.
The young girl was coming down, as pale and sallow as the stony,
sun-baked path, her gentle, sad, little face, resting against her
sister's arm. And the sister looked sad also. The crowd parted before
them, and Benedetto, stepping aside sought refuge behind Don Clemente;
an involuntary action, which however, seemed premeditated. Every one was
trembling and smiling, in the anticipation of another miracle.
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