Therese's little cottage, clean and neat, with geraniums blooming
by a primitive well, was alas! silently closed. The neighbors, and
even the village postman who passed by, could give us no information.
Rain began to fall; my companions suggested that we leave.
"No," I said stubbornly, "I will stay here until I find some clue
leading to Therese."
Two hours later we were still sitting in our car amidst the dismal
rain. "Lord," I sighed complainingly, "why didst Thou lead me here
if she has disappeared?"
An English-speaking man halted beside us, politely offering his
aid.
"I don't know for certain where Therese is," he said, "but she
often visits at the home of Professor Wurz, a seminary master of
Eichstatt, eighty miles from here."
The following morning our party motored to the quiet village
of Eichstatt, narrowly lined with cobblestoned streets. Dr. Wurz
greeted us cordially at his home; "Yes, Therese is here." He sent
her word of the visitors. A messenger soon appeared with her reply.
"Though the bishop has asked me to see no one without his permission,
I will receive the man of God from India."
Deeply touched at these words, I followed Dr. Wurz upstairs to the
sitting room. Therese entered immediately, radiating an aura of
peace and joy. She wore a black gown and spotless white head dress.
Although her age was thirty-seven at this time, she seemed much
younger, possessing indeed a childlike freshness and charm.
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