She sang that famous Canticle to the Virgin, which, it is said, once saved the life of Stradella.

"How beautiful it is!" he exclaimed.

"My God, how very beautiful! Again--again!" Though overwhelmed with emotion, the Countess had the noble courage to comply with the last wish of a friend, a compatriot; she again took a seat at the piano, and sung a hymn from Marcello.

Chopin again feeling worse, everybody was seized with fright--by a spontaneous impulse all who were present threw themselves upon their knees--no one ventured to speak; the sacred silence was only broken by the voice of the Countess, floating, like a melody from heaven, above the sighs and sobs which formed its heavy and mournful earth-accompaniment.

It was the haunted hour of twilight; a dying light lent its mysterious shadows to this sad scene--the sister of Chopin prostrated near his bed, wept and prayed--and never quitted this attitude of supplication while the life of the brother she had so cherished lasted.
His condition altered for the worse during the night, but he felt more tranquil upon Monday morning, and as if he had known in advance the appointed and propitious moment, he asked to receive immediately the last sacraments.