And yet nothing happened.
The bishop was signing now outwards over a man who lay next the German, with his face altogether hidden in a white and loathsomely suggestive mask; but there was no stir in answer.

The bishop turned inwards and signed over a woman, and again there was no movement.
"Thou art the Resurrection and the Life," cried the voice from the pulpit.
"_Thou art the Resurrection and the Life,_" answered the amphitheatre, as the bishop turned again outwards.
Monsignor heard him sigh with the effort, and with the consciousness too, perhaps, of who it was that lay here; he lifted the monstrance; the eyes of the girl opened.

As he signed to left and right she smiled.

As he brought the monstrance back she unclasped her hands and sat up.
(V) The three priests stood together that evening on the high roof of a Carmelite priory, on the other side of the river, half a mile away, yet opposite the grotto, as the German girl came down to make her thanksgiving.
From where they stood it was impossible to make out a single detail of that at which they looked.

The priory stood on high ground, itself towering above the crowded roofs that lay between them and the river; and opposite rose up the masses of the hill at the foot of which was the sacred place itself.
It resembled to-night a picture all of fire.