On the Assumption I made the second or third pilgrimage to the above-mentioned well, in company of my father and several others. On our return in the evening I was like to fall into a ditch by the path-side. I saved myself from falling, but with the great violence of the motion put my hip-bone out of joint. I did not think then I had hurt myself so much, and perceiving the company, which was a little advanced, did not see me, I was resolved if possible to take no notice of it. I desired my brother to give me his hand (though I always used to refuse any help), pretending it began to grow dark. I was in great pain all that night, and in the morning found I was not able to walk. My father and friends were much troubled at the accident, and he immediately sent for a woman very expert in surgery. As soon as she examined it she said it would be a hard cure, and made me keep my bed for ten days, applying all sorts of remedies but without any effect, nothing did me good nor helped to settle the bone, which remained quite out of its place. After this, despairing of my cure, she bid me apply myself to my doctor that had cured me before, meaning St. Xaverius. This she seemed to say with great confidence, though she was a rigid Protestant.