No voice
greeted her; she held her candle high up; no Ramona in sight; the
bed was empty. She glanced at the window. It was open. A terror
seized the Senora; fresh anger also. "She has run off with
Alessandro," she thought, "What horrible disgrace." Standing
motionless, she heard a faint, regular breathing from the other side
of the bed. Hastily crossing the room, she saw a sight which had
melted a heart that was only ice; but the Senora's was stone toward
Ramona. There lay Ramona on the floor, her head on a pillow at
the feet of the big Madonna which stood in the corner. Her left
hand was under her cheek, her right arm flung tight around the
base of the statue. She was sound asleep. Her face was wet with
tears. Her whole attitude was full of significance. Even helpless in
sleep, she was one who had taken refuge in sanctuary. This
thought had been distinct in the girl's mind when she found herself,
spite of all her woe and terror, growing sleepy. "She won't dare to
hurt me at the Virgin's feet," she had said; "and the window is
open. Felipe would hear if I called; and Alessandro will watch.
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