The three watching him looked at each other in
astonishment.
"It is a miracle," said Father Salvierderra. "He will sleep."
"It was what he wanted!" whispered Ramona.
The Senora spoke not, but buried her face in the bedclothes for a
second; then lifting it, she gazed at Alessandro as if she were
praying to a saint. He, too, saw the change in Felipe, and sang
lower and lower, till the notes sounded as if they came from afar;
lower and lower, slower; finally they ceased, as if they died away
lost in distance. As they ceased, Felipe opened his eyes.
"Oh, go on, go on!" the Senora implored in a whisper shrill with
anxiety. "Do not stop!"
Alessandro repeated the strain, slow, solemn; his voice trembled;
the air in the room seemed stifling, spite of the open window; he
felt something like terror, as he saw Felipe evidently sinking to
sleep by reason of the notes of his voice. There had been nothing
in Alessandro's healthy outdoor experience to enable him to
understand such a phenomenon. Felipe breathed more and more
slowly, softly, regularly; soon he was in a deep sleep.
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