The Silver Bullet

Of course, all had been utterly desolated, and Philip was actually
lying in one of these chapels, where the sculptured figure of St.
John and his Eagle still remained on the wall; and a sufficient
remnant of his glowing sanguine robe of love was still in the
window to serve as a shield from the bise. The high altar of
rich marbles was a mere heap of shattered rubbish; but what
surprised Berenger more than all the ruined architectural beauty
which his cinque-cento trained taste could not understand, was,
that the tiles of the pavement were perfectly clean, and diligently
swept, the rubbish piled up in corners; and here and there the
relics of a cross or carved figure lay together, as by a tender,
reverential hand.

Even the morsels of painted glass had been
placed side by side on the floor, so as to form a mosaic of dark
red, blue, and green; and a child's toy lay beside this piece of
patchwork. In the midst of his observations, however, Captain
Falconnet's servant came to summon him to breakfast; and the old
woman appearing at the same time, he could not help asking whether
the lady were coming.

'Oh yes, she will come to dress his wound in good time,' answered
the old woman.

'And when? I should like to hear what she thinks of it,' said
Berenger.

'How?' said the old woman with a certain satisfaction in his
disappointment; 'is our Lady of Hope to be coming down among you
gay gallants?' 'But who is this Lady of Hope?' demanded he.