Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, April 29, 1894, Page 18

WY CHAPTER 111 | As soon as the train stopped at Poitiers | Bister Hyacinthe made haste to get down in tho midst of the crowd of porters who were opening the doors and the pllgrims who we tumbling out. “Walt, wait,”” she repeated, “‘Allow me to pass first, [ want to see if all s over.” Then, when she had got into the other com- partment she ralsed the man's head, think- ing at first that he was indeed dead, secing | him so pale and with vacant eyes. But she felt a faint pulse. “No, no. He breathes. Quick, they must hurry.” And seeing the other sister, the one who was at that end of the carriage: “I beg you, Sister Claire des Anges, go and | find Father Massias, who ought to be in the | third or fourth carriage. Tell him we have here an {ll person In great danger, and ask lim to bring the holy oils at once. Without answering the sister disappeared amid the bustle. She was small, delicate and gentle, with a collected air, mysterious ey but yet most active Plerre, who had followed the scene, s ing at the other end of the compartme made a suggestion. “If they were also to find the doctor?” “Of course. 1 was thinking of that,” an- awered Sister Hyacinthe. *“Oh, Abbe, would you be kind enough to go yourself?” Plerre was just about to propose that he should go to the canteen van to ask for some soup for Marie. Somewhat easier, now that sho was no longer shaken, the invalid had opened her eyes and had allowed her father to sit her up. She had insisted greatly, in her ardent longing for some pure air, to be taken for an instant on the platform. Dut she felt that would be too much to ask, that it would give too much trouble to get her back again, and M. de Guersaint, who had breakfasted in the train, as had also the f greater number of pilgrims and invalids, stood on the footway near the open door to smoke a cigarette, while Pierre ran to the canteen, where also might be found the doc- tor on duty and a smail pharmacy. In the railway carriage were the other fll ones who could not think of getting out. La Grivotte strangled and was delirious; she kept even Mme, de Jonquiere, who had given a ‘“rendezvous” in the eating room to her daughter, Raymonde, to Mme. Voiman and Mme. Desagneaux, to all four breakfast to- gethor. But how could she leave alone, on the hard bench, that wretch who seemed in agonies of death? And M. Sabathier, nailed to his seat, was waiting for Mme. Sabathier, who had gone to get him a bunch of grap. while Martha had not moved, not leaving her brother, the missionary, whose feeble complaint continued. The others who could walk had bustled about to get out, belng in a hurry to escape for a moment from that | vehicle of anguish where their fegs had been | benumbed during the seven long hours since they had started. Mme. Mage had at once | separated, going to one of the deserted ends of the station, straying off there with hec melancholy; stupefied by suffering, Mme. Vetu had had the sirensth to get a short distance, then to sit down on a bench in the | glare of the sun, whose heat she did not fecl, while Elise Roquet, who had felt modest enough to swathe her face again in her black scarf, was looking everywhere for a fountain, devoured by a thirst fer cold water, and Mme. Vincent, with slow steps, carried her little Rose In her arms, trying to make her smile, to enliven her Ly showing her some highly colored pistures that the solemn child looked at without seeking. i Plorre had, however, the greatest trouble in the world to make his way through the crowd that deluged the quay. It was unimaginable, the living stream, the lame and the sound, that the train had emptled there, more than a thousand persons running, pushing snd suffocating. Bvery rallway carriage had given up Its miserable contents, as though a ward In a hospital had been vacated, and one was able to conjecture what an awful amount of suffering the white train was transporting, that before it landed was to be given a legond of horror. Some of the in- firm dragged themselyes, others were car- ried, many sat in a heap on the sidewalk. There were rude pushcs, loud calls, a mad haste toward tha eating room and bar. Every one was In a hurry, was attending to Wls own business. It was so short, this stop of half an hour, the only one they were to have until Lourdes. And the only bright- ness in the midst of the black soutanes, the poor people in worn out clothes, without any procise color, was the gleaming whiteness | of the little Sisters of the Assumption, all | white and active, with their cap, their shirt and their apron like snow. When at last Picrre got to the canteen van, about the middle of the train, he found it already besieged. A petroleum store was | there, as well as a summary little kitchen outfit. The soup, made with concentrated extracts, was healing in basins of wrought | ron, and condensed milk In cans was only | diluted in proportion as it was required. Somo other provisions were spread on boards, Dbiscuits, frult and chocolate. But opposite | to the empty hands that wera stretched out | Sister Saint Francois, in charge of the service, | @ woman of 45, short and fat, with a good | fresh face, rather lost her head. She should have been distributing as she listencd to | Plerre calling the doctor, who was instailed in another compartment of the van with his traveling pharmacy. Then, as the young priest gave his explications, he spoke of tho | poor man who was dying. She had her Place filled; she also wished to go and see, 100, “gister, T was just coming to ask you for | some soup for an ill person.” “well, abbe, 1 will carry it. Go in front.” They hurrled, the doctor and the abbe, ex- changing rapid questions and answers, fol- lowed by Sister Francols, who carried tho bowl of soup with great care in the midst of the bumping crowd. The doctor was a dark boy, of about robust, very hand- some, and with the head of a young Roman emperor, such as may still be found growigs among the burnt ficlds of Provence. — As soon as Sister Hyacinthe saw him sho was arprisod and exclaimed: Well! It 1s you, M. Ferrand?" Both stood amazed at the meeting. The Bistirs of the Assumption have, as a brave duty, to take care of the sick, especially the sick poor, who cannot pay, who suffer in mansards, and thus they pass their lives With the most miserable, staying by death- beds, in scanty rooms, giving the most in- timate care, cooking, dcing housework, liv- fng as servants or as one of the family, until recovery or death. It was thus that Sister Hyacinthe, so young, with her cream- liko face, wherein her biue eyes laughed | ceaselessly, was Installed one day with this young man, then a medical student, a prey 1o typhold fever, and in such dire poverty that Le lived in the Rue du Four in a sort of cellar, without fire or air. She never left him, had saved him with her passion to live only for others, as a girl might who had herselt once been found in the porch of & church, whose only family cousisted of those who suffered, to whom she vowed her- solf, with all her hurning desire to love. And what an adorable month, followed by what exquisite companionship, in that pure nd- t brotherhood of suffering. When he called her “sister” it was Indeed to his sister that he spoke. She was also a mother, who took him up end put him to bed like her child, without any other feeling between them than that of supreme pity, the divine tenderness of charity. She was always gay, without sex, with no other instinet than io comfort and console, and he adored and wvenerated her, and had of her the most chaste and the most passionate recollec- tions. “Oh! Sister Hyacinthe, Sister Hyacinthe," he murmured, delighted Only & chance had brought them face to tace, for Ferrand was not a believer, and ho waa there becauso at the last moment he bad taken a friend's place, who was sud- e e i | together. i~ A S 13 B$T DAY THE OMAHA TeOoBy RIGNTY T i ol e e 5, i & QST denly prevented from coming. For nearly a year he had been house physician at la Pitie. This trip to Lourdes, with Its par- tieular conditions, interested him But th ure of meoting was making them forget the man, and the sister recol- | lected herself ! liag “errand, It I8 for this | For an instant we thought him or since Ambolse he has given us | many fears, and I have just sent for the | holy” ofls. Do you find him so low? Can | you not revive him a little?" | Already the young doctor was examining him. Then the other invalids, who had stayed in the railroad carriage, became in- terosted and looked. Marle, to whom Sister Saint Francois had glven the bowl of soup, held It with such a shaking hand that Plerre had taken it and was trying to make her drink it, but she could not swal- low, she could not finish the soup, her eyes | fixed on the man, waiting, as if her own existence depended on it. ( “Toll us,” asked anew Sister Hyacinthe, “how do you find him? What is his dis- ease?" Oh, what disea “he has every kind. Then, pulling a small vial from his pocket, he tried to pour a few drops between th chsed teeth of the ill man. The latter gave a sigh, lifted his eyelids, lot them fall again, that was all; he gave no further sign of poor man dead. murmured Ferrand; Sister Hyacinthe, never despaired, habitually so calm, who most impatient. “But this is terrible! And Sister Clare des Anges does not return. And yet [ showed her plainly the carriage of Father Massias My God! What is to beome of us? Sceing she could be of no use Sister Saint Francois started to return to the van. Before then, however, she asked if it were not possible that the man might be dying simply from inanition, for that happened, and she had only come to offer provision At last, as she was going, she promised t at if she met Sister Claire des Anges she would hurry her, and she had not gone twenty s before she turned and with a gesture showed the sister coming back alone, with her circumspect but short steps. Leaning out of the door Sister Hyacinthe increased the calls: Make haste! Make haste! ather Massias?" “He is not there.” “What! He is not thera?" “No. I tried my best to hurry, but_in all this crowd one cannot go fast. WTen 1 got to the railway carriage Father Massias lad already gone out, and without doubt had left the station.” She explained that the father, Well! And according to what they told her, musit have had a “‘rendezyous” with the cure of Saint Ra gonde. In years past the national pilgrim- age had stopped for twenty-fonr hours;. the invalids were placed in the city hospital; and they march to Saint Radegonde in pr sion. had been some obstacle, the train was run direct to Lourdes, and the father was doubtless there talking with the cure, having some business But this year there to “They promised me surely to give the mes- sage, to send him here with the holy oils, a3 soon as they could find him. It was a veritable disaster for Sister Hya- cinthe. Since science could do nothing, perhaps the loly olis might have helped the ill man. Often she had seen that happen. “Oh, sister, sister, how distresced I am! You do not know how sweet you would be if you would go back there, You would be on”the watch for the father so that you might fetch him as soon as he appeared.” “Yes, sister,” obediently answered Sister off Claire des Anges, who again started with her grave and rysterious air, slippi through the crowd with the supplencss of a shadow. All this time Ferrand had been looking at the man, distrssed at belng unable to give Sister Hyacintue the pleasure of secing him revive. And, as he made a gesture of {mpa- tience, she once more besought him, *“Mon- sleur Ferrand, stay with me; wait until father arrives. I should feel quieter.” He remained, helping her to lift up the man, who had slipped from the seat. Then she took a cloth and wiped his face, that was continually covered with a heavy sweat. And the waiting was prolonged, amid the discom- fort of the invalids who had remained in the railway train, and the curlosity of the out- siders, who commenced to collect. A young girl briskly scattered the crowd, and stand- ing on the footrail addressed Mme. de Jon- auiere. “What {s it, mamma? Those ladies are walting for you at the eating room.” It was Raymonde de Jonquiere, already somewhat mature for her twenty-five sum- mers, but who resembled her mother amuz- ingly, with the same large nose, big mouth, fat and agreeable face. “But, my child, do you not see I can not leave this poor woman?" And she shoved La Grivotte, who at that moment was seized with an attack of cough- ing that was shaking her terribly. “Oh, mamma, what a pity! Mme. gueaux and Mme. Volmar Intended to make this little breakfast of us four such a pleas- ant occasion.” “What do you want, my poor child? Begin without me. Say to the ladies that just us soon as I can I will escape and join them there.” Then with an after thought:—“Wait; there 1s the doctor. -T will try to get him (o look after my invalid. Go away. I will follow. And you know I am dying of hunger. Raymonde returned quickly to the room, while Mme. de Jonquiere begged I rand to come to her and see if he could not ’ 1 Dela- ating help La Grivotte. He had already, at Mar- tha's request, examined Brother Isidor, whose moaning did not cease, and he had once again by a broken-hearted gesture sig- , he lhastened hoping Howeve to a seat, nified his fmpotence. to raise the consumptive | to stop her cough, which did become less and less. Then he assisted the hospital lady to Induce her to swallow a mouthful of calm- ing medicine. The presence of the doctor in the railway carriage continued to make a stic among (he invalids. Mr. Sabathier, who was slowly eating the bunch of grapes his wife had brought him, did not guestion the doctor, knowing before hand what the answer would be, weary of having consulted, as he expressed it, all the princes of science; but he could not fail to feel some relief in the fact of seeing him reseat the poor girl, whose proximity bothered him. And Marie herselt looked at what he did with a grow- that for her like- ing interest, yet certain wise he could do nothing. On the platform the scurrying increased. There only remained a quarter of an hour. As it she were Insensible, with open, staring eyes, Mme. Vetu slopt oft her trouble under the scorching rays of the sun, while in front of her Mme, Vincont was still walking slowly with her little Rose, whose little bird-like welght she scarcely felt in her arms. Many persons rushed to the fountain to fill their jugs, cans and bottles. Mme. Maze, very Jainty and delicate, thought she would go to wash her hands; but just as she reached thers she found Elsie Rouguet preparing to drink and she shrank beck {rom that monster —that dog's head with the gnawing muzzle that held the crooked slit of her nose, the tongue hunging ont and lapping—and every- body felt the same shudder, the same re- luctance to 01 the bottles, the jugs and the cans at the fountain where she had drank. A large number of pilerims had been cating all along the platform. One heard the | vegular tappig of & woman's crutches coming | and going without stopping in the midst of | the groups. A cripple neated fn & wooden | box dragged himsell painfully along the ground in search of no one knew what, Others, lying in a heap, did not atir. Al this overflow of a moment, this rolling hospital emptied out for one-half hour, re: veuled amid the agitated flurry of the sound and well a poverty and fearful sadness under the broad light of midday. Pierre had not left Marie again, for M. d Guersaint had disappeared, attracted by the glmpse of green couniry to be seen at the end of the station. And the young priest uneasy because she had been uvable to finish hor soup, forced himself with a smile to tempt her appetito by offering to go and buy | and but she refus her a peach ing too much; looked at him nothing with he DAILY » s T3 43 pild U e . sel. She was suffer- pleased her. She or large, sad oyes, divided between hor impatience of stopping that dre on t retarded her d of being once moy rd and intermi; ched poss| was gri ibl andher re shaken to pieces nable journey and touched Plerre’s cure 21y, wore a bsard and lad a large and paternal face. “Excuse me, Abbe. Is there not a man dying in this railway carriage?)’ And as the priest replied in the airmative he became quite friendly “My K in the Depaitn 1 have asked for a holid Gustave, to Lourdes, wife. The dear child pu the Holy Virgin, to wh night and morning. name s Vigueron, accompanied and familiar, 1 am assistant ment of Financ, and lay to take our son, by my his whole trust in sm we pray for him We are in the railway carriage In front of yours, where we have a second class compartment.,” Then turning, with a ho called his party. ‘ome here, come here! motion of his hand, It is In here. The unfortunate sick man is indeed at the last gasp.” Mme. Vigueron was pale face and with a pov small, with a long ercy of blood that in the accuracy of all good country people re- appeared terribly in her latter, although 15, ha old, bent, thin as a skeleton, wasted obliged him to walk with a crutch, was withered and a pinched little face, sl was all eyes, but eyes sp gence, quickened by pain son Gustave. The ly seemed 10 years His right leg away, _which He had ightly crooked, that parkling with intelli- and looking straight down in the depths of souls, An old lady followed, dragging her legs with difficulty, with a pasty face, and M. BEE: SUNDAY, APRIL 29, Well, we are in the and we count on the will surely perform a her state of health, hands of providence, Holy Virgin, who miracle.” At last Mme. de Jonquiere, reassured by Dr. Ferrand, felt she could lehive La Grivotte. But she took care to say to Plerre “I am dying of hunger. I am going to the eating room for a moment But, I beg you, it my invalid begins to cough again come and_fotch me.” After she had succeeded with great diff culty in crossing the platform, she again found another crowd in tho eating room. The pilgrims in sy circumstances had taken forcible possession of the tables— above all, many priests were helping them- selves in the dim made by knives, forks and dishes. Threo or four walters were not nearly enough“to guarantee any service, all the more that a crowd hindered them, pressing to the gounter, buying fruit, rolls of bread and cok] meat. And It was the at the end of Aie room, at a small table, that Raymonde/ Whs breakfasting with Mme. Deagueaux and (fime. Volmar. “Ah! mammaf fat last!” she cried. T was about to go bELK to find you. They must allow you to Rt She laughed-gayly, very happy incidents of the journcy and picked up meal, this windfall. “Iere, I have saved your share of a trout with green sauce; and here fs a cutlet wait- ing. The restiof us are already eating artichokes.” It was, indeed delightful. the this aver over It was a jolly corner that was pleasant to see. Young Mme. Deagueaux, above all, was adorable. A delicate blonde, with wild, flow- ing yellow heir, a milk-white skin, deep dimples, very smiling, very nice—wealthily warried. Sho had for three years past left her husband at Troutville about the middle of Aungust (o accompany the national pil- grimage in guise of hospital patroness. It was her great passion, a shuddering pity, a need to give her whole time to the in- valids for five days, a regular debauch of absolute devotion, from which she returned exhausted and delighted. Her only sorrow was that as yet she had no children, and sometimes with a comical air she regrétted that she liad missed her vocation—that of a sister of charity. “Ah, my dear,” she saild gayly to Ray- monde, “do not bewail that your mother Is engrossed by her i1l ones. At least it occu- ples her. And, speaking to Mme. de Jonquiere, “If you knew how long we find the time in our comfortable, first class compartment! One may not even work a little, it is forbidden. THE STOP AT POITIERS. (mi Vigueron, remembering that he had quite forgotten her, turned toward Plerre in order to introduce her. “Mme. Chaise, my wife's eldest sister, who also wished to accompany Gustave, she dearly loves." And leaning forward, an air of confidence whom in a low voice, with “It Is Mme. Chalse, widow of the silk mer chant, enormously rich. trouble that causes her She has a heart great uneasiness.” Then the entire family, massed in a group, evinced the greatest curiosity as to what was happening in the railway carriage. Peo- ple were constantly collecting, and the father, in order that his son might look at his ease, lifted him for a moment in his arms, while the aunt held the crutch, and his mother stood up, too, on the tips of her toes. In the carrlage there was exactly the same sight as before. The man on his bench, occupying the corner, stiffened, with his head partition, leaning against He was livid, his eyelids closed, the hard board his mouth drawn by the agony, bathed in an ley sweat that from time to time Sister Hyacinthe wiped away with a cloth, and the latter no longer spok: but had returned to counting on Heaven and at the platform once i Father Masalas were 1 “Look well, Gustave, to his son. “It must be , no longer fussed, her usual serenit 1 simply looking out n a while to see If ot coming. " sald M. Vigueron a consumptive The child, who was scarred with scrofula, whose hip was eaten by a_runn'ng abscess, who had the beginning of necrosis of the vertebrae, appeared (o terested in this death afraid; he smiled with sadness, “Oh, It s Chaise, whom tho fear in her continuai shook that might kil b “Dame,” answered sophically, tal." And Gustave's smile t sad mockery, as if he ha fearful,” dread of “each in turn; we are all be passionately | agony. He was not a smile of infinite ' murmured Mme. of death turned palo some sudden her. M. Vigueron, philo- mor- hen took on a sort of d heard other words, an unconscious wish, the hope that the old before the prom aunt would die might inhreit that he family for long. “Put him down, her husband. *You bis legs.” She then busied horse himself would he did, and that he pised 500,000 francs, not trouble his sald Mme. Vigueron to tire him holding on to If, as did also Mme, Chaise, to protect the child trom any knock little midget They feared Even the fath The poor watched, minute, had need to be to lose him at any er thought it would be best to get him at once back to thelr own compartment, and as ried him off wrning again toward Pi ““Ab, Abbe, It God w lite would go, too, with of his aunt's fortune other nephews. And it ture if he went before he added, he two women cer- greatly overcome, lerre: re to take him, our him. I do not speak that would pass to would be against na- she did, cousidering T begged to be put in with the invalids, but all the places had been given, and I shall be reduced to trying to sleep fonlght in my corner.” She laughed and added:— ‘Is it not s0? Mme, Volmar, we will go to sleep, as conversation appears’ o tire you.” The latter, who must have scen her 30th year, was very dark, had a long face, with finely marked features and large, magnif- cent eyes liko living conis, over which at times there seemed to pass an extinguishing wave. At first sight she was not beautiful but the longer one looked at her the more intense and overpowering she became, stir- ring passions and unrest. Further, she held herselt in the background, modestly hiding and effacing self, always wearing black, without a jewel, although she was the wife of a diamand merchant In Paris. “Oh, 1" she murmured, “provided T am not pushed about too much, I am content.” In truth she had already been twice to Lourdes as helper, but one never saw her there in the hospital of Our Lady of Lourdes, for she always sald she was overcome by such fatigue that she was obliged to remaln in_her room. Mme. de Jonquiere, the dircctress of the ward, had always shown for her an amfablo tolerance. “Oh, my God! My poor friends, you have plenty of time to spare. Sleep away, if you can, and then it will by your turn, when I can no longer keep up.” Then, speaking to her daughter, *“You, my darling, must be careful not to excite yourselt too much if you want to keep a clear head,” But Raymonde looked at her with a smil- Ing, reproachful air. “Mamma, why do you say such things? Am I not very reasonable?’ There was no need for her to boast, for firm will, & resolution to make her own lif looked out of her gray eyes under an alr of careless youth, simply content to 1 It Is #o," confessed the mother with slight confusion, “This little girl is more often right than I. Here, pass me the cut- let, and I can tell you it Is welcome. Heavens, how Mungry 1 was The breakfast ‘went on, enlivened by the continued laughing of Mine. Deagueaux and Raymonde. @ latter was animated, and her face, that {lie hope of marriage haa al- ready made spmewhat sallow, found once more the rosy' tints of her twentleth sum- mer. Courses-were put on the table two at | & time, for there were only ten minutes left. Al over the room there was a growing commotion among the convives, who feared lest they man have time to drink thelr coffee, 3 But Plerre ‘ppeared. Agaln La Grivotte had been seize@ with a choking turn, and Mme. de Jondafere finished her artichoke and aftor kissing her daughter good night in a pleasant wanner, went back to her rail- way carriage. | ¥he priest made a motion of surprise, however, upon seoing Mme. Vol- mar with the red cross of the hospital of workers on her black dress. He was ac- quainted with her, as be still made occasional » 1894 -TWE PAGES. NTY visits to old Mme. Volmar, the mother of the diamond merchant, and an old acquaint ance of his own mother—a most torrible woman, of extravagant religion, so hardened and severs that she closel the shutters to prevent her daughter-in-law from looking into the street. And he knew her history. the young woman fmprisoned the very day aftef her marriage, between her mother-in law who terrified her, and her husband, a monster of repulsive ugliness, who even went 5o far as to beat her, mad with jeal ousy, although he kept mistresses himself. faThey only allowed her to go out for an in stant to go to church, One day at Trinity Plerre had, Indeed, guessed her secret by seeing her behind the church exehange a rapld word with a proper look- ing man, of distinguished air; the inevi- table fall so easily to be forgiven, the fall in the arms of the discreet friend who hap pened to be there, the hidden and consum Ing passion that m not be satisfied, yet burns on; the meeting that had given so much trouble to accomplish, walting for it for weeks, that Is greedily enjoyed, in a final flare of fancy. She was troubled and held out to him her thin and feverish little hand. “Why, what a mecting, Abbe! It long since we have seen each other.” And she explained that this was her third trip to Lourdes, and that her mother-in-luw had exacted that she should be In the party of the Assoclation of Our Lady of Salutation. “It's surprising that you did not sce her at the station. She put me into the train and will be there to fetch me when 1 return.” All this was sald very simply, but with such a pointed meaning of frony that Plerre had not much to guess. He knew she hud no religion, and only took it up to gain a few hours of freedom once in a while, and he strongly suspected that some one was waiting for her yonder, that she was thus hastening to her lover, with the ardent though suppressed air and flaming eyes that she scarcely concealed under a veil of deadly indifference. “And 1, said he presently, “T am with a triend of my childhood, a poor young sick girl. 1 beg to recommend her to your care Then, as she blushed slightly, he no longer doubted. Elsewhere Raymonde was sottling the bill, with the assurance of a young per son accustomed to figures, and Mme. Dei- gueaux went off with Mme. Volmar. Th waiters were not attentive. Every one was hurrying out, as they heard a bell ring Pierre, too, was hastening back to the car riage when he was once more stopped. “Ah, Vicar,” he cried, “I saw you just as we were starting, but I have not been able to shake your hand before this.” And he held out his own to the old priest, who looked at him smilingly with the air of a noble man. Abbe Judaine was the viear of Saligny, a small community of Oise. Large, tall, he had a fat, rosy face, sur rounded by white curls, and one recogn is 80 a holy man, one whom neither the flesh nor the spirit had tormented. With peacetul sanctity he firmly believed, absolutely with- raiih out any truggle, with the easy of a child who was fgnorant of all ons Since the Virgin had at Lourdes by a mar- velous miracle of which people still talkcd cured him of an eye trouble, his belief had become still more blind and devoted, as if it were quite saturated with divine gratitude. “I am very glad to see you with us, my friend,” he said, softly, ‘‘because young priests have much to gain by making these pilgrimages. They tell me that there Is a spirit of revolution among some. Well, y will see all these poor people praying to- gother, a speetacle that will bring tears from you. How can one refuse to place himself in the hands of God before so much suffer ing alleviated or entirely cured?” He also was with an Invalid. He showed a first class compartment, where a placard I'Abbe Judaine was attached, marked “Mr. Reserved.”” Then lowering his voice: “It is Mme. Dieulefa, you know, the wife of the banker. Thelr chateau, a royal do- moin, is in my parish, and when ¥ heard that the Holy Virgin had been will- se to me they be the poor ill one. ing to make & sign of g sought me to intercede fa Thore! Do you see her on the ground? She demanded positively to be taken out for 2 moment, although it will be trouble enough to get her back again.” There was indecd on sort of a long box a woman whos the platform in a e beauti- ful, pure oval face and lovely eyes did not Dbear the traccs of more than 26 yeau he had been seized by a fearful disease, the ab- sorption of the caleerous salts that served to grease the skeleton, the slow destruction of the bone. Three years ago, after being con- fined with a stillborn child, she had felt vague pains in the spinal column. Then lit- tlo by little the bones became rarified and dotormed, the vertcbraes collapsed, the bones of the pelvis became flattened, those in the legs and arms began to shorten, and shrunken, as if melted away, she had be- como @ human rag—a creature, fluid and without name, that could not be stood up- right, that was carried about with the greatost care for fear of secing It escape from between the fingers. The head alone retained its beauty, a motionless head, with a stupid and imbecile air. And around this lamentable remnant of a woman that made the heart ache were the evidences of the great luxury in which she lived; the blue silk tufting of the box that held her, the rare laces with which she was covered, the cap of Valencienncs that she wore—all spoke of a wealth that was spread about her till the end. “Ah, what a pity!” continued Abbe Ju- daine, in an undertone, “to think she is so young, so pretty and rich as Croesus. And it she knew how they loved her, with what adoration she is still surrounded! That is her husband, that big man near her, and here fs her sister, Mme. Jousseur, that elegant 1ook- ing woman." Plerre remembered having often read in the newspapers the name of Mme. Jousseur, the wife of a diplomat, and very much “laucee in the best Catholic circles in Paris, There had also been rumored con- cerning her a story about great passion, overcome and vanquished. She was besides Very pretty, dressed with an art of marvel: ous simplicity, and_giving the impression of an alr of perfect devotion toward her poor 4ister. And, as for the husband, who had at Inherited the colossal business of his he was a handsome man, with a nplexion, very neat and fitted snugiy inat frock coat, but his eyes were full of tears, for he adored his wite, and he had left his affairs to take her to Lourdes, put- ting his last hope in this appeal to Divine merey. g Certainly since the morning Pierre had seen all kinds of terrible ills, in this mourn- ful white train. But none had so completely upset him as this miserable skeleton of a Woman who was liquifying in the midst of her laces and her millions. “The unfortunate creature!’ shuddering, futher, falr ¢ he murmured, Then Abbe Judaine made a motion of sorene hope. e Holy Virgin will cure her. 1 have prayed so hard for it.” But there was another clanging of the bell, and this time it was really the start. There were still two minut This proluced a final pushing, people coming back W p in papers, with bottles and jugs that they had filled at the fountain Many missed their way, not being able to find thelr railway carriages, running, as if lost, the length of the train, whilo the in- valids, dragged themselves in the midst of a hurried moise of crutches; and others, who walked with diffieulty, tricd to quicken their pace, hanging on the arms of the hospital nurses. Four men had great difficulty in getting Mme. Dieulafa back to her first class compartment. ‘The Viguerons, who Were content to travel second class, had already installed themselyes in their com- partment in the middle of an extraordinary heap of baskets, box gavo little Gustave room enough to strotch his poor abortive members. Then they all reappeared, Mme. Vincent holding her dar- ling little girl up at arm's length in terror lest she should hear her scream; Mme. Vetu whom they were obliged to push in, after waking her from the oblivion of her torture; Elsie Rouquet, soaking wet becauso she in- sisted on trying to drink, was attempting to Qry her monstrous face, and while each one was taking his seat, so that the carrlage was filling up, Marle was listening to her father, who, delighted at having gone to the, end of the station, he had found there a switchman's little house, from waich he had seen a really lovely country, “Do you wish us to lay you down at once?" asked Plerre, who was disturbed by the agonized expression of the sick girl “Oh! no, mo, presently!"’ she replied. “I have time enough to hear those whe grind- ing under my head, as it they were crushing my bones!” | "Sister Hyacinthe had just begged Ferrand | to look at the iuan once more before he re turned to the canteen ven, She was still waiting for Father M slas, astonishe at things to eat done u valises, that hardly | this inexplicable delay; but she had not | foot quite given him up, beca Auges had not returned. eur Ferrand, I beg of you, tell me man is In any fmmediate dang in the young doctor looked, listened cou Then with a discouraging motion and in a low volco ““My opinion Is that you will not take him alive to Lourdes,” All the heads wore strotched, ancious yet, if they had only known the man's name whence he came, who he was! But the miserable unkmown, from whom they could not get a word, and who was about to dio there In that carriage, without anybody being able to put a name on his body! Sister Hyacinthe suggested that they should search him. Under the circumstances there surely could be no harm to do so. ‘Mon slour Ferrand in his pockets.” The latter with the man. In his pockets he only found a rosary, a knife and three sous. They never found out’ any thing more, Just at this moment a volee announced Sl ter Claire des Auges and Father Massias. The latter had simply been belated by chat ting with the v r of Saint Rade ina walting room. There was a feeling of great relicf, and for a_moment everything seemed all right. But the train was just starting, the employes were already shutting the doors. They would have to expedite the extreme unction in all haste, if they did not wish to cause too great a delay. “This way, Reverend Father!” cried Sis ter Hyacinthe, yes, get in! Our poor nvalid is here. Father Massias, five years Pierre, who, however, had been pupil with him at the seminary, had a largo, thin body, with the face of an as- cetle, whose light beard made a frame in which parkled two burning eyes. He was nefther the doubting priest nor the prieat of ehildlike falth, but an apostle carried away by passion. always ready to flght and to conquer for the pure glory of the Virgin. Under his black cloak with a large hood, his shaggy hat with its wide brim, he w rosplendent with the continual ardor combat. He had at once taken from his pocket the silver box containing the holy oil. And in the midst of the last slamming of the doors in the noise of the running of the pilgrims, the ceremony began, although the station master restlessly looked at the clock, seeing that ho must glve them a few moments of race. “Credo in unum mured the priest. “Amen,” responded Sister Hyacinthe and all tho occupants of the railway carriage Those who were able had knelt upon the benches. The others had clasped their hands, multiplying the signs of the cross, and when, after the muttering of the prayers, there followed the ritual of the litany, the voices were rafsed and an ardent desire was wafted with the Kyrie Eleison for the remission of sins, for the physical and spirltual curc of the man. Might his whole life, of which they were Ignorant, be forgiven, and might he enter in person, but triumphant, into the kingdom of God! “Christe, exaudi nos. “Ora pro nobls, sancta Dei Genitrix.” Father Massias had taken out tho needle, on which hung a drop of holy oil. such a bustle, in the waiting at the train, where people were putting the heads by mistake into doors, he conld not think of giving the customary unction upon all th. organs of sense, those doors through which enter sin. As the ritual permitted in a pressing case, he was obliged to be content with a singlé unction, and he gavoe it ou the mouth—on that livid, half opened mouth from which there came but a faint breath while the face, with closed eyes, seomed al- I, returned to the ashés of mother no look care searched older than a fellow of Deum,” quickly mur- roistam sanctam unctionem, ot suam am misericordiam, indulgent tibi Dominus quidguid per visum, audituni, vdora- piiss e e o e — e —————— —————— — Sister Claire des | were fistulas that gave vent to a continua suppuration At once all the fnvalids in the carrfags commenced to be intorested. They never took their eyes off the miraculously healod; in_her they sought to find a prodigy. In order to see her better those who were able stood up, while the others, the Infirm, strotched on thefr mattrosses, raised them- gelves and turned thelr heads. Coming to them in the renewal of their suffering that | they knew they must endure for fifteen 3 more hours after leaving Poitiors, the sud- tum, gustum, tactum, deliquisti,’” The remalinder of the cercmony lost, Jostled and carried away by the start. Ti priest had searcely time to wipe away (he drop with the little bit of wadding held in readiness by Sister Hyacinthe. He wus obliged o get out of the earringe and into his own as fast as he couid, putting the box containing the holy oils in order, while the assistants finished the final prayer. “IC s impossible for us to wait any longe peated the station master, oxcitedly. ““Come, come; make them hurry." they were finally oft. Rvery one reseated themselves, retired to their corners. Mme. do Jonquiere, still troubled by the conditios of Ia Grivotte, had changed her place, and was nearer to her. Opposite M. Sabathier, who walted, resigned and silent. Sister Hyacinthe had not returned to her compart- ment, but decided to stay near the man, to watch bim and help htm. Ail the more that, being there, sho was able to look after Brother Isidore, whose sufferings Martha was no longer ablo to alleviate. And Marie, growing yet more pale, felt even before it had started under a leaden sky, In her tender flesh, the jolting of the train as it carried its charge of ill people in the closeness and imprisoned air of the overheated carriige. Thero was a loud whistle, the machincry started, and Sister Hyacintho stood up to say “Le Magnificat, my children.” CHAPTER 1V. Just as the train was moving the door was opened and a guard pushed a young girl of about 14 into the compartment with Pierre and Marie., “Here, lere s a place; hurry!” With ‘long faces they had already com- menced to protest, when Sister Hyacintho gave a cry: “Why, is that you Sophie? You arg coming again to see the Holy Virgin, who cured you last year?" And at the same timd Mme. de Jonquiere said: 2“Ah! that is right, my little friend Sophie; it is good to be grateful.” “Yes, Sister, or yes, Madame," answered the young girl modestly. At any rate the door had again been shut, and they were obliged to accept this new pilgrim, who seemed to have fallen from heaven Just as the train, that she had nearly missed, was starting. She was thin, so she would not take up much room. Besides, theve ladies knew her, and upon hearing that sie had been cured by the 1Toly Virgin, every eye was fixed upon her. But they were out of the station, the muchinery creaked under the increasing rapidity of the wheels, and Sister Hyacinthe, clapping her hands, repeated: ‘Come, come, my children, the ‘Magnifi- cat.' " While the song of pralss swelled high above the joltinzs, Pierre looked at Sophie. She was evidently a little peasant a daughter of one of those poor laborera from tha neighborhood of Poitiers, who had been | spolled and treated as a lady by her parents ever since the had become one of the elact, a wonder visited by all the clergy of the dis- trict. She had on a straw hat, with pink ribbons; a gray woolen dress, trimmed with a flounce, and her round face was not pretty, but good-natured looking, very fresh, and bright, cunning e that gave her a smiling yet modest look When the magnificat was over Plerre could not re<ist the desire to question Sophie. child of this age, of such a candid appear ance and who could not possibly be a lar. greatly interested him “Then you nearly missed the train, my child?" ‘Oh! Monsieur I'Abbe, I should have been provoked, for 1 have been at the statlon sinc mid-day. here 1 saw the vicar of Saint Radegonde, who knows me well, and who called mo to ki's him and to tell me that 1 was a good little gitl to go back to Lourdes Then it seems the train was just starting and I only had time to run. Oh! how I did run!" She laughed, still out fepling gullty that she had been 0 heodlo of breath and still “And what Is your name, my child ophie Couteau, Abbe." re you from Poitiers iteolf?" . indeed. We live at Vivonne, seven kilometres away. My father and mother are quite well off, and all would go on well enough If there were not eight children at | home. [ am the fifth, Fortunately the first four are already working. “And you, my chiid, what do you do? “Oh, Abbe, I am not of much use. Ever since last year, when I came back cured, I havo never been quiet a single day, be cause, you know, people come to see me and 1 had to go to the bishop and to the convents and everywherc. And before that 1 had been il for a long time. I could not walk without stick, my foot was s0 painful amed at_evory step. Holy Virgin has cured you of a bad foot?’ Sophle did not have thne to answer @ister HMyacinthe, who had been listening tntervened ‘It was & carries of the bone of the left heel, dating from three years back. The was swollen and deformed and there den coming of this child, cleet of heaven, was like o divine message—the ray of hopo from which they should gather strength tll the end of the journoy. Already the groans ccased somewhat, and all the faces axed in the overwhelming desire to be- Above all, revived and half raising her- self, Marle clasped her trombling hands and’ spoke softly to Pierre. I beseech you to question her. Ask her to tell us ali. Cured! Good Lord! Cured of such an {1 Mme. Do Jonquiere, overcome, had leanol forward to kiss the child across the partis=3— tion “Of course our little frie is just about to do so. Are you not, my darling, going to tell us what the Holy Virgin has done for you “Certainly, madame. She had a smiling and modest look, with fyes that sparkled with intelligencs. She wanted to begin at onee, and raised Yer right hand with a pretty gesture to attr, atte tion. She had evidently already becoms a customed to pleas: a crowd. Dot she coull Al that you want." not be seen frcm all the seats in the rafl- way carriage, so Sister Hyacinthe had an idea. Stand up on the seat, Sophi rather loud on account of ths no's and speak 'I']hll i an od her and she had to walt to begin until she had quieted down on more. : -« “It was this way-—my foot was uselc ) could not even go to church and I always had to keep it wrapped in cloths, b cause nasty stuff came out of it. M. Rivoi the doctor, who had made a cut in it to see in- side, sald he would have to take out a bit of bone, which certainly would have made mo lame. Then, after praying well to the Holy Virgin, I went and dipp'd my foot in the water, with so great a longing to be cured that I did not even take the time to remove the rag. And when I took my foot out everything had stayed behind, there was nothing left on it."” A murmur ran about, a mixture of sur- prise, astonlshient and longing, at hearing this ‘wonderful tale, so comforting to the hopeless. But the girl had not finished. Sho took hier tim~ and ended with another motion, her two arms slightly rafsed. ‘When M. Rivoire saw my foot agaln at fvonne he said: ‘Whether it be God or the devil who bad cured this ehild it is all the same; but the truth fs that she is cured.’ " _This time peals of laughter were hoard. She had told the story 8o often that now she knew it by heart. e words of the doctor always produccd an effect, and 5o sure wa she that people would laugh that she always laushel hersel? beforeand, And it v as stiil s0_ingenuous and touching. She had, however, forgotten a delail, for Sister Hyzcinthe, who had by a glance nounced the doctor’s remark to her aulienc now whispered softly: “And, Sophie, what you sald to th % the superintondent of your ward.” Oh, yis. 1 had not taken along man. for my foot and I told her ?ll Hlf; Virgin had been very good to cure me first day, because on the morrow my coun- the stock would have been oxhausted.” Again there sweet to have b was frosi joy. She was so % en cured thus, ) And on fur- ther questioning by Mme, Jon YA onquiere, she lad to relate (o & about her boots, her beautiful now boots, that the countess had glvon her, and fn which, enchanted, she had run, danced and Jumped. Think of ft! In boots, she, who for three years had been un- able to put on a slipper! ‘Made pale and grave by the subtle mis- givings that invaded him, Pierre continued to er. look at And he tions. Decidedly she did not lie, but he suse pected in her a slow distortion of truth, an embellishing quile to be understood, in her Joy of having been 2, and of having be- ked lier other ques- come a little person of importence, Who knew now whether the pretended wound that had instantly completely healed in a few seconds had not really taken many days to complished? Wlere were the wit nesses? i s there,” Mme. do Jonquiere was teil- ing at that moment. “She was not in my ward, but I met her that very morning limping—"" Plerre interrupted her quickly: Ah! you saw her foot before and after the immersion 2" “No, no; 1 hardly think any one could have seen it, because it was so enveloped in compresses. She told you herself that the compresses fell off into the spring.”” And, turning toward the child, “But she will show it to you—her foot. Won't you, Sophie? Unfasten your shoe." The latler, with a promptitude and ci that showed how accustomed she was to (\E\- i it, took off her shoe and pulled off her stock: % ing. She thrust out her foot, very clean, very white, well cared for, with the pink nails nicely cut, turning it round with complacent air, o that the priest might e amine it comfortably. Under the ankle thera was a long scar, whose whitened edges clearly bore witness to the gravity of the s Oh, Abbe! take hold of the heel, squecze it with all your might; I no longer feel any- thing.” Plel been suppos power of th a made a motion; and it might have ed that he was overcome by the Holy Virgin. He remained un- easy In his doubt. What unknown force had acted? Or, rather, what false diagnosis of the doctor, what concurrence of errors and exaggerations, had led to this beautiful tale? But the invelids all wished to see this miraculous foot—this visible proof of divine curing that all were looking for—and it was Marie who touched it first, sitting on her beneh, suffering less already. Then Mme. Maze, taken out of ier melancholy, passed it on to Mme, Vincent, who kissed it for the hope it had given. M, Subathier had listened w.th & rapturous air, M e. \etu, La Grivotte, even Drother Isidore had opened his eyes with Interest, and the face of 0 Rouqiet, transfigured by faith, had become more almost beautiful; for a wound extraordina that had thus disappeared, did it not mian her wound also would be licaled? Her face, retaining only a mere scar, would be liko the faces of the rest of the world? lile, standing up, held on to one of the curtain and resting her foot on the edge of the tiong, turned to the left and to the ght, without letting g0, very happy and vory proud of the exclamations, of the grow- ing admiration and relizions respect shown to this small end of lier person, this little od foot that was now considered sacred il must, doubtless, have great faith,” Marie thought out loud. ““One must have a soul. hen speaking to M. de Guer- rther, T think 1 should be cured if I were only 10 years old and had the unsullied soul of a little girl." ‘But you are only 10, dearest PLOrTe, dadmm— et 15 of 10 have any whitor souls than she With his chimerical tastes he ador:d tales and miracics. And the priest, profoundiy touched by the ardent purity of the young girl, no longer sought to discuss, leaving her to lose herseli in the breath of consoling ilueion that was passin —— Since leaving Poltlers the alr had become very heavy. A storm was coming in the leaden sky and it weem:d as if the traln were passing through furnace. The villages passed by, gloomy and descrted under the burning sun. At Coube-Verac acts of plety W sluckenel som Sister Hyacinthe, who hid not yet break- fartod, declded to quickly ent scmo bread and frult while she continued to take care of the man, whose falnt breath seemed rather mora reg! o it was only ot Luffec, at 3 o'clock, that the verpers of the Holy 'Virgin wore sald Ora pro nobls, sancta Del Genitrix." “Ut aignl efclamur promissionibus Christe." As they wore finlshing M. Sabathier, who en looking at hitt stocking, turied Sophie put on her 10 M. do Guor- had b ghoe and saint, “Undoubtedly the case of this child is inter- esting. But It I8 nothing. There are muny more astonishing than hers. Do you know M\ the story of Plerre de Budder, a Delglan workman?"' > verybody agaln began to listen This man had had his leg broken by a fall from a treo, Kor eight years the two plecs of bone would not knit. Oune could ¢ + ends through a sore that was ti uppuration, and the leg | hung turning ln every which way. Well, it was euough for bim to drink a glass