Alone the window of the chapel sent out a little light.

If no one were to come, why did her heart beat so rapidly?
It was nothing new, this feeling of waiting, or of hope, but it was dated from the long ago, from her early youth; it was like a desire, a looking forward for something which had grown with her growth, and ended in this feverish anxiety of her seventeen years.

Nothing would have surprised her, as for weeks she had heard the sound of voices in this mysterious corner, peopled by her imagination.

The "Golden Legend" had left there its supernatural world of saints and martyrs, and the miracle was all ready to appear there.
She understood well that everything was animated, that the voices came from objects hitherto silent; that the leaves of the trees, the waters of the Chevrotte, and the stones of the Cathedral spoke to her.

But what was it that all these whisperings from the Invisible wished to explain?
What did these unknown forces above and around her wish to do with her as they floated in the air?
She kept her eyes fixed upon the darkness, as if she were at an appointed meeting with she knew not whom, and she waited, still waited, until she was overcome with sleep, whilst it seemed to her as if some supernatural power were deciding her destiny, irrespective of her will or wish.
For four evenings Angelique was nervous, and wept a great deal in the darkness.