"What shall we pray?" asked the child. "What do you want to pray now, mother dear? Shall I pray [Pg 109] to the beautiful guardian angel, 'Holy angel, thou who standest before the throne of God,' or shall I repeat the litany to the sweet name of Jesus? Or shall I pray as I did at my confirmation, 'Come, thou Heavenly Physician, I need Thee. Heal my soul, oh Saviour. Come, save me'? Oh, you left me alone," cried the child, in a plaintive voice, as she broke off in the midst of her prayer. "You were at the ball, you were so beautiful, mother. Daddy was with you. Marianna went away as well. She said it would only be for half an hour; she wanted to see her little ones, who are living with an old woman in the village; but she stopped away. I was all by myself in the house. And something creaked in the big cupboard, and in the stove, and in all the furniture. And something moved in all the corners. Ugh, the room was so lonely, I ran out of it. And the candles--those two before the looking-glass--flickered so. Marianna says that if you look into a glass before which two candles are burning, as the clock strikes twelve, either Death or your future husband will be standing behind you. Oh, and I daren't cross the passage, it was so dark. Just think if anybody had been lurking there? I screamed aloud, but nobody answered--ugh, the passage was so icy cold--so I rushed into the kitchen; there was still a little fire there, and I crept behind the stove. Oh, mother, I was so frightened, I couldn't stop there either. I trembled so, my heart went like that the whole time"--she took hold of her mother's hand and moved it quickly up and down--"the whole time like that. Just think if that fiery man, that Marianna is always telling me about, had got out of the stove? I believe that fiery man is the devil; I've asked Marianna, but she didn't know. Do you think, mammie, that it's the devil?" [Pg 110] She sat up in bed. She was still completely dressed. "Is it the devil?" Mrs. Tiralla nodded. "So you also believe that it's the devil?" Rosa's voice expressed a certain satisfaction, a kind of childish pride; oh, yes, she knew all about such things. "I know him." she said triumphantly. "What does he look like?" whispered her mother, with a shudder, as she hid her face in her hands. Oh, if that should have been he, that handsome young man who had suddenly appeared before her a short time before, as she stood half-dressed in the room downstairs and Mr. Tiralla was making excuses for the amorous maid?