Then Amile delayed no more, but went to his wife's chamber, and bade her to attend the Divine Office; so the Countess sought the church, as was her wont to do, and the Count took his sword and went to the bed where lay the children, and they were asleep. And bending above them he wept bitterly, and said-- "Hath any man heard of such father who was willing to slay his child? Alas, alas, my children, no longer shall I be your father, but your cruel murderer." The children awoke because of their father's tears which fell upon them, and looking upon his face began to laugh. Since therefore they were about the age of three years he said to them-- "Your laughter will turn to tears, for now your innocent blood shall be shed." He spoke thus, and cut off their heads; and making straight their limbs upon the bed, he set their heads to their bodies, and covered all with the coverlet, as if they slept. So he washed his companion with the blood of that slaying, and said-- "Lord God, Jesus Christ, Who hast bidden men to keep faith on earth, and didst cleanse the leper with Thy word, deign Thou to make clean my comrade, for love of whom I have shed the blood of my children." Straightway was Amis made whole of his leprosy, and they gave grace to our Lord with great joy, saying-- "Blessed be God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who saveth those who put their trust in Him." And Amile clad his comrade from his own rich apparel; and passing to the church to render thanks in that place, the bells rang without ringers, as was the will of God. When the people of the city heard thereof they hastened to behold this marvel. Now the wife of the Count, when she saw the twain walking together, began to question which was her husband, and said, "Well I know the vesture which they wear, but which is Amile, that I know not," and the Count said-- "I am Amile, and this, my companion, is Amis, who is healed." Then the Countess marvelled greatly, and said-- "Easy is it to see that he is healed, but much desire I to know the manner of that healing." "Render thanks to our Lord," returned the Count, "nor seek curiously of the fashion of that cleansing." The hour of tierce was now come, and neither of the parents had yet entered in the chamber where the children lay, but the father went heavily for reason of their death. The Countess asked therefore for her sons that they might share in the joy, but the Count replied-- "Nay, dame, but let the children sleep." Then entering by himself within the chamber to bewail his children, he found them playing in the bed and about their necks, in the place of that mortal wound, showed as it were a crimson thread. So he clasped them in his arms, and bore them to their mother, saying-- "Dame, rejoice greatly, for thy sons whom I had slain with the sword, at the bidding of the angel, are alive, and by their blood is Amis cleansed and healed." When the Countess heard this thing she said--