In  the  cathedral  masses  were  celebrated  continually;  at
the  catafalque  thousands  of  wax  candles  were  burning,  and
amid  those  gleams  and  amid  flowers  she  lay  calm,  smiling,
like  a  white  mystic  rose,  with  her  hands  crossed  on  laurel
cloth.  The  people  saw  in  her  a  saint ;  they  brought  to  her
people  who  were  possessed,  cripples,  sick  children ;  and  time
after  time,  in  the  middle  of  the  church  was  heard  the  cry,
now  of  some  mother  who  noted  on  the  face  of  her  sick  child
a  flush,  the  herald  of  health,  now  of  some  paralytic  who  on
a  sudden  recovered  strength  in  his  helpless  limbs.  Then  a
quiver  seized  the  hearts  of  people,  news  of  the  miracle  flew
through  church,  castle,  and  city,  then  ever  increasing  crowds
of  human  wretchedness  appeared,  wretchedness  which  could
hope  for  help  only  through  a  miracle.
Meanwhile  Zbyshko  was  entirely  forgotten,  for  who,  in  face
of  such  a  gigantic  misfortune,  could  think  of  an  ordinary
noble  youth  and  his  imprisonment  in  a  bastion  of  the  castle !

Zbyshko,  however,  knew  from  the  prison  guards  of  the
queen's  death,  he  had  heard  the  uproar  of  the  people  around
the  castle,  and  when  he  heard  their  weeping  and  the  tolling
of  bells  he  cast  himself  on  his  knees,  and  calling  to  mind
his  own  lot,  mourned  with  his  whole  soul  the  death  of  the
idolized  lady.  It  seemed  to  him  that  with  her  something  that
was  his  had  been  quenched  also,  and  that  in  view  of  such  a
death  it  was  not  worth  while  for  any  one  to  live  in  the
world.
