And, in fact, he did not hear, nor would it have been easy to
do so, for the words came so slowly, so brokenly, so confusedly. Still
the parish priest did not appear, and Don Clemente did not return.
Subdued voices and steps could be heard outside, and, sometimes a
curious face peered in at the door, but no one entered. The dying man's
words lost themselves in a confusion of weak sounds, and at last he was
silent.
"Is there any one outside?" Benedetto inquired. "Let some one go to the
parish priest, and bid him hasten."
Giovanni and Maria were attending to the mother, who, quite beside
herself, was tossed between grief and anger. After having believed in
the miracle, she would not now believe that her son had been reduced to
this desperate condition by natural causes; at one moment she wept for
him, and at the next cursed the medicines Benedetto had given him,
although the Selvas assured her they were not medicines. Maria had put
her arms round her, partly to comfort her and partly to hold her. She
signed to Giovanni to go for the priest and Giovanni hurried away.
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