Chapter 16

Young and innocent, she has to follow the long and wearisome southern path; to look back on the sanctuary of her childish days; She wished to lie again under the roof of the monastery; Once again she just looks at her house - and dies!

Tired and weary she was, stricken with remorse and chills and black despair, yet there was a strange silent force within her heart, which drew her more and more—forward she crawled and begged from door to door, burdened by weary days, her failing strength grew hourly, until one day dawn When the sun's rays flooded the world with light, and showed the wide water, shimmering blue and bright, amid the lush hawthorn wood, just as there stood, the low white abbey glimpsed her.

Does anyone know her? No, no fear, her face had lost all trace of youth, joy, and grace. The pure, happy soul they had known - the novice Angela - long ago, rang the convent bell, the sound that her heart knew hit her, and she bent down to the ground and wept while she wa