nor attend to the explanations given, nor to anything else, so severe was the pain I experienced. The trouble went on increasing until, in the evening, in sheer desperation, I was seized with a fit of uncontrollable weeping. It was time for the evening class and I was wandering aimlessly about the house, a prey to racking pain, when the prefect met me on the balcony overlooking the playground. "Recommend yourself to Dominic Savio," he said to me, for he understood the cause of my trouble. "Recommend yourself to Dominic Savio; he can cure you if he wishes to do so." I thanked him for this advice and reproached myself for not having thought about it sooner. I hastened at once to Our Lady's altar, knelt down on the step which had so often been hallowed by the presence of Savio, when he used to withdraw to the silence of the sanctuary, his heart filled with devotion towards her, by whose aid he succeeded in attaining the love, zeal and piety which now form a crown of glory for him in heaven.
Kneeling down there I made the sign of the Cross and began to pray, determined, at any cost, to obtain my cure, provided it were in accordance with the will of God. The pain was then at its worst, but at the moment I was saying the words: "Sed libera nos a malo," the aching pain suddenly ceased. My blood resumed its usual course, the
