as they do, about the heart, they might only too readily be the death of him; but fear not; I will say a charm that will kill them all; and before I take my leave, you will see your boy as whole as you ever saw him.’  And because to say certain of the prayers thou shouldst have been with us, and the maid knew not where to find thee, he caused his companion to say them at the top of the house, and he and I came in here.  And for that ’tis not meet for any but the boy’s mother to assist at such a service, that we might not be troubled with any one else, we locked the door; and he yet has him in his arms; and I doubt not that he only waits till his companion have said his prayers, and then the charm will be complete; for the boy is already quite himself again.”

The good simple soul, taking all this for sooth, and overwrought by the love he bore his son, was entirely without suspicion of the trick his wife was playing him, and heaving a great sigh, said:—­“I will go look for him.”  “Nay,” replied the wife, “go not:  thou wouldst spoil the efficacy of the charm:  wait here; I will go see if thou mayst safely go; and will call thee.”

Whereupon Fra Rinaldo, who had heard all that passed, and was in his canonicals, and quite at his ease, and had the boy in his arms, having made sure that all was as it should be, cried out:—­“Gossip, do I not hear the father’s voice out there?” “Ay indeed, Sir,” replied the simpleton.  “Come in then,” said Fra Rinaldo.  So in came the simpleton.  Whereupon quoth Fra Rinaldo:—­“I restore to you your boy made whole by the grace of God, whom but now I scarce thought you would see alive at vespers.  You will do well to have his image fashioned in wax, not less than life-size, and set it for a thanksgiving to God, before the statue of Master St. Ambrose, by whose merits you have this favour of God.”

The boy, catching sight of his father, ran to him with joyous greetings, as little children are wont; and the father, taking him in his arms, and weeping as if he were restored to him from the grave, fell by turns a kissing him and thanking his godfather, that he had cured him.  Fra Rinaldo’s companion, who had taught the maid not one paternoster only, but peradventure four or more, and by giving her a little purse of white thread that a nun had given him, had made her his devotee, no sooner heard Fra Rinaldo call the simpleton into his wife’s room, than he stealthily got him to a place whence he might see and hear what was going on.  Observing that the affair was now excellently arranged, he came down, and entered the chamber, saying:—­“Fra Rinaldo, those four prayers that you bade me say, I have said them all.”  “Then well done, my brother,” quoth Fra Rinaldo, “well-breathed must thou be.  For my part, I had but said two, when my gossip came in; but what with thy travail and mine, God of His grace has vouchsafed-us the healing or the boy.”  The simpleton then had good wine and comfits brought in, and did the honours to the godfather and his companion in such sort as their occasions did most demand.  He then ushered them forth of the house, commending them to God; and without delay had the waxen image made, and directed it to be set up with the others in front of the statue of St. Ambrose, not, be it understood, St. Ambrose of Milan.(1)