Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, May 6, 1894, Page 18

/= n BYNOPSIS O PRECEDING CHAPTLEI apter T.—T In a ecrowde third-clnss train,” which fos the very Parig to Lol It is August day, promising to make the Jou uncomfortahle, that the train starts. are propped up on the benches or stretchod mattreases, The car looks like a hospital w ption In each c The windows are with Sisters of the Assu ment acting as N closed and (he air 18 vory foul. Among th grima s Marie de Guorsaint, a pallidly 1 young woman who for yr had to H & coffinlike hox, She yanied by gather and the Abbe Pl Wearing ved cross of A stre r ointhe Is In charge, Other partment are Mme. Vin ying taby to be cured Mme. Maze, Who Is besesch tho Virgin to rm her di band; M. Sabathior, formerly a pro Lycee Charlemngne, who hus Tegn; a mattress maker, La dying of consumptior 1 Eliz r face frightfully isiig by a lupuis, cinthe tells stories of the miracul fected by Lourdes, and s inter All belleve to be the dying strug known passenge hy 4 of an un- Chapter IL-The Abbe Pl falls Into n reverie and roviews his own life, e was the son of a chemist who lived at Neuilly, and who w Killed by an sion y. Ple mother, thinking the ath o punishment for his s ches, cated the boy (o the p ving them were M. de Guersa y tect, and hix family Gue v fell up. Then and’ Piers Tove ‘with Mario fell off Wwhich baffed all horse A the do pri father's books, teachings of (b 1iglous, and 1 pany her on Chapter IT1. train {s in- tense when it stops at A doctor s | found to examine the man, who is | pposed_ to b g. proves to be | an old friend Tyacinthe, whom sh nursed when he n poor student, n 18 beyond his aid, and a priest with the holy oils is_sent for. Chapter 1V. Couteau, a youn the story of the disensed foot 1 at Lourdes. | pilgrims, whi Chapter V.- E ing the history of Bernadette, th the vislon in the grotto. 1t was on February 1858, that Ternadette, n shepherdess, was out'to gather wood, It was then she, by dent, strolled into the grotto. The early history of the girl was also glven, showing the ten- dency of her mind toward re CHAPTER V.—(CONTINUED.) One whole winter the vigils were held in | the church. The Vicar Ader gave his per- mission, and many families came there in order to save lights, without mentioning that 1t was much warmer to be there altogethe The bible was read and then they prayed. The children usually ended by going to sleep. Bernadette was the only one who struggled to the last, s0 happy to be there, in the nar- vow nave whose light beams were painted red and blue, at the end of the altar, like- wise painted and gilded, whose twisted columns and reredos showed Mary with Anna, the beheading of St. John, somewhat barbaric and of a tawny splendor. And the child in a state of drowsiess would the fancy these mysterious sights to be almos| true, the brilliant pictures to be real, that the bleeding wounds, the shining aureoles ac- tually existed, and through them would con- stantly appear the Virgin, gazing with her blue and living eyes, while she scemed just about to speak with those vermillion iips For months together Bernadette would live over such evenings, half asleep, opposite the rich and magnificent altar, commencing that divine dream that was finished in bed, slecp- ing without a sigh in the care of her guar- dian angel. It was also in the old church that Berna- dette, simple and filled with ardent faith, | commenced to learn her catechism. She was nearly 14, and was thinking about her first communion. Her foster mother, who wus miserly, did not send her to school, but made use of her at home from morning till night. The schoolmaster, M. Barbet, never saw her in his class. But one day when he took the place of the vicar, who was indisposed, and heard the lesson In the catechism, he noticed her piety and modesty. The priest was very fond of Bernadette, and often spoke of her to the schoolmaster, saying he never saw her without being reminded of the children of Salette, because they must have been like her, pure and simple to have the Holy Virgin appear to them. Another day the two men, just outside the village, saw her in the dis- tance with her little flock wandering under the trees, and the priest looked back at her several times, saying each time: “I do not know why I should feel thus, but every time I meet that child I seem to see Melante, the little shepherdess, the com- panion of Maximlus, He was certainly possessed by the peculiar thought, which was prophetic. So one day after the catechizing, or at least one evening at viglls In the church, did he not relate the marvelous story, then twelve years old, dbout the lady with the shining dress, who walked on the grass without bending it, the Holy Virgin, who had revealed herself to Melanie and Maximius, on the mountain, on the bank of a stream, to confide t5 them a great se- eret and to announce to them the wrath of her Lord. Ever since that day a spring germinating from the tears of the Holy Vir- gin healed all ills, whilst the secret, trans- mitted on a parchment sealed by three waxen geals, was kopt at Rome. Of course, Berna- dette had listened attentively to this wonder- ful tale, in her dumb and half awakened way. Then she had thought it over during her solitary rambles in the woods, to live it once more while watching her lambs, while her rosary, bead after bead, slipped through her benumbed fingers. “Thus passed her childhood at Bartres. Bernadette, otherwise lean and poor,possessed ecstatic eyes—the beautiful eyes of the vi- nary—over which, like birds a clear sky, passed a flight of dreams. Her mouth was large and wide, indicating goodness Her square head, with straight brow and thiok, black hafr, would have seemed common without her look of soft obstinacy. But un- less one caught her eye it was never no- ticed. She seemed only an ordinary child— a wayside beggar, an overgrown girl of ab- ject humility. But It must have been that Bame look that gave rise to the forebodings which Abbe Ader felt for her future—the hidden uncasiness caused by her wandering nature, the solitude of the green felds whero ghe had pussed her days, the gentle bleating of the lambs, the angelic salutation that filled the heavens even to hallucination and the wondorful storles heard at her foster mother's, the Vigils passed gazing at the liv- fng reredos of the ehurch, together with the surroundings of the primitive faith she had fmbibed in that far off land, hemmed in by mountalns, On the 7th of January Berna- dotte was fourteen, and her parents, the Soublrons, resolved to fetch her home de- finitely to Lourdes, that sho might learn her catechism there properly, in a way to pre- serlougly for her first communion. She K:a, therefare, been at Lourdes about a fort- night or threo weeks when, one cold, frosty day, one Thursday, the 11th of February’— But here Plerro was obliged to stop, for Sister Hyacintbe had stood up, and, elap- ping her hauds loudly, sald _ My childven, it 1 after 9 o'clock. Si- silence, Tu fact they had just passed Lamothe, fhe train was golng through a sea of dark- ness, with its dull, grinding sound, across the endless plains of Laudes. submerged night. wr::;c‘:mgh'l to have been quite still ten in the carriage, either to sleep ligious subjects. al e n but sUll no hoise. But there came an outery. o, Sister, sald Marle, whose eyes were sparl ust fifteen minutes longer! We are ARty Jdle'of the most Intoresting o ; 3 aty volces were raised. n"onl‘;“ ’vloue. just & quarter of an hour more.” They sll wished to hear the , burning with curiosity, as it they did m'knnw the tale, so greatly were they moved by the lifellke detals given by the teller. All eyes were fixed on h were bent forward to where he wi wierdly visible by the light of the swinging a8 et S— T | th | a whiteness, "FIRST DAY e JLOUIRDIES EIMLEEE & Sl lamp, And not only the invalids, but ten Indies in the last compartment too, were deeply Interested, turning thelr poor, ugly faces, made beautiful by their innocent belief, happy not to loge a word. “No, I cannot, ster Hyacinthe declared at first. “The program is strict. You must bo silent,” She hesitated, however, being so deeply interested herself that her heart ing violently under her shirt. Marle again begged, supplicated, while her father, M. de Guersaint, who was listening with an amused look, declared he would be made il if they did not go on, and as Mme. de Jonquiere gave an indulgent smile, the sister ended by agreeing, too, “Let us see now; only a minutes—no more than a hour, because T shall be Pierre had waited rupting, and kept on fn the same dis tinct voice, wherein doubt was melted by pity for those who suffered and who hoped Now the tale went back to Lourdes, Rue de Petits Fosses, a narrow, tortuous mournful strest that runs botween poor- looking houses and roughly plastered wall On the ground floor of one of these sad dwellings at the end of a dark alleyway the Soubirons oceupled ‘but a single room, where seven persons were huddled—the father, mother and five children. One could scarcely see. The Inside courtyard, damp and small had a greenish light. ~ There they slept in a heap; there they ate—when there was food. For some time the father, a millor by trade, found it difficult to find work. And it was from this obscure hole, this base misery, on that cold Thursday morn ing in February, that Bernadette, the eldest, went to pick up dead wood with Marle, a younger sister, and Jeanne, a little friend from the neighborhood. Then the beautiful tale went on at length —how the three gitls went down the banks of the Gave, on the other side of the chat- teau; how they had finally got to the island of the Chatelet, opposite to the rock ot Massablelle, that only separated them from narrow channel of the mills of Savoy. 1 was a wild spot, where ordinary shepherd often pastured the country pigs, who fn sudden showers would seek shelter under the rock of Massabielle, that was dug out in a sort of shallow grotto at the base, hidden by sweetbrier and blackberry bushes. Dead wood was scarce. Marie and Jeanne crossed the channel, when they saw on the other side a whole lot of branches, carried down and left there by the freshet, while Bernadette, more deli- slort fifteen quarter of an rlct.” quietly without inter- cate and somewhat retiring, waited on the edge in despair, not wishing to wet her feet. She had a cold in her head, and her mother had charged her to wrap herself well in her Lood—a large, white hood that was distinetly_outlined on her old black woollen dress. When she found her companions would not help her over she sat down to take off her sabots and stockings. It was about noon; the three strokes of the Angelus striking from the parish church were wafted toward the vast, calm winter sky that was vefled with a soft down of clouds. And then it was she felt a strange sensation ringing in her cars like the nolsa of a tempest—so much so that she thought she heard a hurricane from the mountains. She looked at the trees. She was astounded, for not a leaf was moving. Then, thinking she must be mistaken, she was about to pick up her sabots, when again the mighty wind overpowered ‘her. But this time the difficulty in her ears reached her eyes. She 10 longer saw the trees. She was dazzled by & kind of living light, that seemed to fix itself against the rock above the grotto in a hizh and narrow nave, like the spire in a cathedral. Terrified, she fell on her knees. What was It, O God? Formerly, in old (imes, when her asthma oppressed ‘her greatly, she had passed bad nights, with endless dreams— often distressing dreams—of which she could feel the choking sensation when she awoke, even it she could not remember the sub- Jects. Had she thus dreamed the night before? Was this the continuation of some forgotten dream? Then, little by little, a figure be- came apparent, and she thought she saw a face that the bright light made quite white. In the fear that it might be the devil, her brain haunted by the stories of witches, she was beat- | | In what book of pictures ther of her foster who read such statue? In what picture In what stained glass window of the church had she grown? Above all, those golden roses on the naked feet, the delicious imagin~ ation of love, that combined blossom of the of p belonging to the. mother? the priest splendid tales? In what flesh of a woman—from what romance of chivalry did she come? From what story told at the catech!sing by the Abbe Ader? In wh unconscious dream developed under the shades of Bartres? as she repeated over and over the besetting score of the Angelic Salu- tation. Pierre was greatly moved In the recitation of all thes things to those simple souls, who listened, and the human solution created by is own doubt tempted him to give an ac- count of these prodizies that would thrill his hearers with fraternal sympathy, He loved Bernadette all the more for the charm of her hallucination—that Lady of graclous access, perfectly amiable, full of suavity, in appear- ing and disappearing. First, the shining light, then the vision appearing—going, com- ing, bending, moving in an insensible and irresolution. And when she faded away light still_remained a moment longer, No lady in the then went out like a falling star. this sphere could possess so pink and white a face, as lovely in its childish beauty as pictures given at one's first communion. And the briers in the grotto did not even wound those naked feet, that blossomed like gold. And at once Plerre told of further appari- tions. The fourth and fifth took place on Friday and Saturday, but the Lady of sudden brightness, who as vet had never told her name, was content to smile and bow, without saying one word, On Sunday she wept and said to Bernadette: “Pray for all sinners.” On Monday, wishing no doubt to test the child, she did nat appear. But on Tuesday she confided to her a per- sonal secret that must never be divulged; then finally indicated the mission with which she was charged: “Go and tell the priests to build a chapel here.” On Wednesday she murmured at intervals the word “Penitence, penitence, penitence,” that the child repeated while kissing the ground. On Thursday she said, “Go and drink from Jthe fountain, wash in it and eat some of the wrass that grows beside it.”” Words that were finally comprehended by the seeress, as a spring leaped forth through her fingers, at the bottom of the grotto, and thus was per- formed the miracle of the enchanted foun- tain. After that passed the second week: she did not appear on Friday, but she was mo; punctial on the five following days, repeat- ing her commands and contemplating with her smile the humble girl of her choics, who, at each apparition, told her beads, Kissed the ground and walked on her knees up to the spring to drink and wash herself. Pinally, on Thursday, March 11, the last day of the mystic meetings, she insisted more specially upon the construction of a chapel, where the people from all quarters of the globe might come in processions. Up to that time, however, she had refused all Bernadette's requests that she would tell who she_was, and it was only on Thursday, March 25, three weeks later, that the Lady, clasping her hands and raising her eyes (o heaven, said: “I am the Immaculate Conception.” Twice more, at fairly long intervals— April 7 and July 16—she appeared. The first time to perform the miracle of the candle—that candle over which the child held her hand by an oversight for a long time without burning it, the second time to bid fairwell, give a final smile and a last bow of sweet complacency. That made eighteen apparitions in all and she never showed herself again. Pierre was torn by conflicting emotions. ‘While he continued the rosy hued tale so comfortjng to those wretches in the car- rlage, He conjured up to himself a Berna- dette so dear, yet so greatly to be pitied, whose sufferings had given birth to such flowers of romance. According to the brutal opinion of a doctor this young girl of four- teen, tortured by a tardy puberty, already a prey to asthma, was nothing more than a subject for irregular hysteria, most certainly aenemic and childish. 1t THE GROTTO AT LOUR‘DE& began to say her rosary. And when the light had faded, little by little, and she had rejoined Marie and Jeanne. after crossing the channel, she was surprised that neither of them had seen anything while picking up wood In front of the grotto. As they went back to Lourdes the three girls chatted. Had she really secn some- thing? But she would not answer. Uneasy and rather ashamed, finally she said she had seen something white, ['rom then the rumor grew and spread. The Soubirons, Informed, were annoyed by such childishness, and forbade their daugh- ter to go back to the rock of Massabielle, But all the children in the neighborhood were already telling the story, and the parents were forced on Sunday to permit Ber- nadette to o to the grotto with a bottie of holy water to find out it was really some- thing diabolical. Again she saw the brightness, the fuce that smiled, not fearing the holy water, And the following Thursday she again re- turned, accompanied by several people, and it was on that day only that the Lady of the sudden light condescended at last to address her in these words: ‘Do me the favor to come here for fiftesn days.” Little by little the Lady became more de- fined. The thing dressed In white was a lady more beautiful than a queen, such as are only seen in plctures. At first Bernadette hesitated when piled with the questions from all about her, over- come by scruples. Then it appeared that by these very questions the figure took on a definite life, became more distinct, with lines and colors, that the child in all her descrip- tions never varied. The eyes were blue and very soft, the mouth pink and smiling, the oval of the face showed at the same time a grace of youth and of maternity. — One could only see from under the edge of the long veil that covered her head and hung to her heels the ringlets of lovely blonde hair, The dress, all white, shining, must be of some stuff unknown on earth, shot with sunlight. The arf, sky blue, loosely kuotted, hung down in two long floating ends, with the lightness of the morning breeze, The rosary, held in the right arm, was of milk white beads, while The links and the cross were of gold. And on the naked feet, on those adorable feet of virgin snow, were placed two golden roses, the mystic roses of that fmmaculate flesh of the Divine Mother, Where, then, could Bernadette have seen this Holy Virgin, so traditional in her simple eomposition, without a jewel, with the grace there existed no violent crises she did not become perfectly rigid, if she re- tained the exact recollection of her dreams, it simply meant that hers was a most un- usual case; and the inexplicable alone consti- tutes the miracle, for science knows as yet 50 little, according to the world, in the midst of the infinite varicty of phenomena! Have not many shepherdesses daring such a child hood as’Bernadette's thus seen the Virgin? Is it not always the same story, fhe lady clothed in light, the secret confided, the bounding spring, the mission to fulfil, the miracles whose power is to convert tho popu- ace? It was always the dream of a poor child, the same parochlal teachings, an ideal formed Ly traditional beauty, gentleness and kindly manuers, the innocence of the means, but a identical aim In view—that of delivering the world, the building of churches, the proces- slons of the faithful! Then invariably the same words fell from heaven—appeais for penitence, promises of divine help, and in this case their only difference came in the extra- ordinary declaration, “I am the Immac late Conception,” that seemed to express the real recognizance by the Holy Virgin of the doctrine promulgated in convention at Rome lhr:e yoara betore, was not the Immaculate Virgin that appeared, but the Tmmaculate Conoeption. the thing, the dogma, so that one could only question if the Virgin had really spoken thus. The remaining words might pos- aibly have been heard by Bernadette and if in her fits unconsclously stored in a corner of her brain, But this last one, whence did she come, to give to the still much discussed dogma the prodigious support of the testi- mony of the Mother conceived without sin? So Plerre, fuily convinced of Bernadette's absolutely good faith, who refused to believe ber to be the Instrument of fraud, ran on, full . of trouble, as he felt truth wavering within his mind. At Lourdes the excitement wi tremen- dous. Crowds rushed thither, miracles were being performed, while the inevitable perse- cutions that assure the telumph of new re- ligion were taking place. And Abbe Peyra- male, the vicar of Lourdes, a thoroughly honest man of upright and vigorous mind, could only say with truth that he did not know this child, had not even seen her at the cathechizing. Where, then, existed the impression? Where had the lesson been Tearned? There had only been the childbood spent BEE: § UNDAY, MAY 6, 0 e ar IR A 1894 ~TWENTY PAGE ‘tl Bartres, The early teachings of Abbe v Hlittle child to the realms of Impossibility, | Ader,. perhaps conversation with him, the | 80 he gave himselt up finally to & delicious | religious ceremonies in honor of the fate | Perfod, no longer seeking to explain, ac- | dogma, or simply the gIft of one of those | CePLINE tho seeress with her glorious cortege medalions that had been seattered abroad | Of miracles, placing himself entirely in God's in such profusion. In all this Abbo Ader | hands to Kave and to do with him as He nover appoarsd, Mo who had prophesied the | Wished. So he looked out through the Ttasion of the seeress, Ho was left out | Window, that they were afrald to open on of the history of Hermadette, after having | A¢Count’ of consumptives, and he saw the | Deon the first to teel this littie moul awaken | Ereat darkness covering over the land | nitne his pots moidamee 'Sat "W the for- | through which the train was rushing. The gotten forcea of the sequestered village, of | SOFM had passed over. - The sky fn its that confined and superstitions nook, still :“ I::“‘ 1'";“"\:)'\'""‘(0;' L I{(fnw" washed by s LRI LU b L gl ave. Large stars were shining Bl tarious gleam the refroshed and silent flelds ey how remembered that a shepherd | UL Stretched indefinitely in 'the dark oy e the Tionk of | lence of lumber. Across the plains, B e eI O at tnings | "Cr%s the valleys, over tie hilla atil rollod Nt e o e S er enildran | e cartiage Joad’of misery and suftering e ot vt wide open . yes, | "Il Folled, overheated, lamentable, Intestod fell into ccstasios., with wile open ' exes. | and wailing, through ‘the sorenity of that eir limbs shakep by con s, ' | beautiful and peacotul August night. ly saw the dey({, | A wave of folly seeme At 1 in the morning they went by Riscle. At Lourdes adette was the toad's to Inundate the helghborhood. an old woman deglared that Be a witch, and thal she had seen claw in her e To the rest who had assembleily she ool the thousands of pllgrims as a saint, whose garments were kigsed, Sobs broke forth, a frenzy carried thém y whenever she knelt in front of ,the grotto, a lighted taper in_her right hand, holding her rosary in tho left one. She bacame very pale, very beautiful, as # trapsfigured. ~ Her features gradually changed, expanding into an ex- pression of extraordinary beatitude, while her eyes became liquid, clear, and the half opened lips moved as though she were speaking unheard sentences. And it was quite certain thaf she had no longer any will of her own—overpowered by her revery, s0 completely overcome by it, that she con- tinued even when awake, in her limited, narrow existence, and that she believed in it as the only inscrutable reality of her life, ready to confess it even at the price of her blood, repeating it over and over with obstinacy, with the same details. She did not lie, for she neither wished to know, did know, nor was able to believe anything else. Plerre then went on to draw a charming picture of ancient Lourdes, a quiet littie town nestling at the foot of the Pyrenees. Formerly the chatean, perched on a rock at the crossroads of the seven valleys of Lavdan, was the key to the mountains, But nowadays only a heap of dismantled ruins was left at the entrance of the pass. Against the formidable rampart of the great snow- clad peaks modern life battercd in vain, and only a trans-Pyrenaen railway, had it ever been built, could have established an active intercourse with the social world in this out-of-the-way corner, where life was like @ stagnant pool. Quite forgotten, Lourdes slept on, happy and serene in_the midst of secular peace, with her nafrow streets paved ‘with: cobblestones, her dark houses framed in marble. Al the old houses were built to the east of the chateau; the Rue de la Grotto, then called the Rue des Bois, was nothing but a deserted roa impassable; there was no house as far down as the Gave, that in those days rushed with foaming waters through the absolute silence of willow trees and tall weeds. In the place du Marcadal occasional passers by were to be seen on a week day—house- keepers hastening home or small merchants taking their time—and it was only on Sunday or at fair times that mignt be found in the market place the people in holiday at'ira, the crowds of sheep breeders coming with their animals from dis- tant plains. During the summer season the passing through of persons who went to take the baths at Canterils and Baguere also gave some animation to the town; diligences crossed the town twice a day, but they came from Pau over an abominable road and were obliged to ford the Lapaca, that frequently overflowed its banks; then, coming up the steep hill in the Rue Basse, one could see the terrace in front of the ohurch, shaded by enormous elms. What peace reigne: about that old church—that old church, half Span ish, filled with ancient statues, columns, sculptures, reredos, peopled by visions of gold and painted flesh, mellowed by time, as though scen by the light of mystic lamps! The whol= population came there to pra filling their eyes with this dream of the mys- terious. There were no faithless ones, for they were a primitive people. Bach corpora- tion marched under the banner of its own saint; societies of all kinds were united to- gether on saints’ days from the entire town as one family, and a great purity of qus- toms, like an exquisite flower grown in a special pot, ruled over all; the young men were unable even to find any place for dissi- pation, all the young girls developed in the beauty and perfume of innocence under the eyes of the Holy Virgin, the tower of ivory and throne of wisdom. One could easily, understand how -Berna- dette, born in this land of holiness, should have flourished like a natural rose, opening amid the sweetbriers on the road. She was in fact the blossom of this ancient land of belief and honesty. She certainly could not have grown elsewhere, could not have been produced nor developed other than In the midst of that backward race, In the slum- bering peace of a primitive people, under the moral discipline cf religion. And what love had at once sprung up about her! What blind faith in her mission, what immense consolation and hope, from the very first mivacles! A long cry of relief greeted the cures of old Bourriette, when he recelved his sight, and of little Justin Bonhohorts, resus- citated in the icy water of the fountain. At last the Holy Virgin interceded in favor of the hopeless, and had forced that hard- hearted mother, Nature, to be just and char- itable. It was the new reign of divine om- nipotence that overthrew the laws of this world for the happiness of the poor and suf- fering. The miracles increased. FEach day something more marvelous transpired, as though they were proofs of Bernadette's trust that could not be denied. She was Indeed the rose of the heavenly garden, who was swectened by its work, and who saw flourish- ing about her all the other flowers of grace and salvation. Plerre had gone on thus far, speaking again about the miracles, and was about to continue by tellzg the prodigious triumphs of the grotta, when Sister Hyacinthe, sud- denly rozsing herselt from the fascination with which she had been held by the tale, stood up quickly. % “Really, there is no sense in this. s00n be 11 o'clock.” It was true. They had passed Morceux, and were getting near Mont de Marson. So she clapped her hands, “Silence, my children; silence.” This time no one dared remonstrate, for she was right. It would not be wise. But what regrets not to hear the rest, to he thus left in the middle of the story! The ten women in the compartment at the end even allowed their murmurs of disappoint- ment to be heard, while the invalids, still with relaxed features, and eyes wide open on the light of hope that was shining be- yond, appeared to be listening. Thoso miracles coming without end finished by haunting them with & great and supernatural Joy. “And,” added the nun gayly, “do not let mo hear even a whisper, otherwise I shall impose a penance!” Madame de Jonquiere fairly laughed from good nature. “Obey, my children; obey. Sleep, sleep quietly, so that tomorrow you may have strength to pray with all your hearts at the grotto."” They were then silent. No one spoke, and there could be heard only the rumbling of the wheels and the shaking of the train run- ning along at full speed through the black night. Plerre could not sleep. .m.ym Guersaint was already snoring, with ®happy look, notwithstanding the hard- ness of the bench. For a long time the priest had seen that Marie's eyes were wide open, still filled with the splendor of the wonders of which he had told. She had first fixed them ardently upon him. Then she had shut them, but he could not tell whether sho was asleep or whether she was living over with closed = eyelids the continual miracle.. Now 'and again the invallds were dreaming, sometimes laughing, then agatn moating unconsclously. Per- haps they were Witnessing the archangels as they melted away all fleshly ills to take out their disease. ' Others, sleepless, turned and twisted, strangled a sob or looked Into space, And Piéfre, shuddering as he thought of such mystery, felt upset and could not cumpflhx himself of this delirious conter of suffering brotherhood, ended by loathing his owrn reasoning power, tried to be in close comnitinion with these humble oues and resolvéd’fo believe as they. What avalled his physiological inquirfes regarding Bernadette, 8o cbiuplicated and wso filled with gaps! Why hot accept her as a divine messenger from 6bove, an elect of an un- known heaven? Doctors were only fgnorant men with brutal ways, whereas it would be 80 pleasant to sluinber off In the faith of & It win At his side Mon- The silenco continued, painfully and with mental suffering amid the jolting. « At 2 o'elock, at Vie de Bigorre, there wore heard muiflled groans; the wretched condition of the rail shook the Invalids bick and forth In a most insupportable movement. 1t was only at Tarbes, at 2:30, that the silence was finally broken and morning prayers were sald, while it was yet dark. The paters and aves, the creed and appeals to God, to ask for the happiness of a glorl- ous day. Ob, my God! glve me enoush strength to forego all evil, to do only what Is right, to suffer all ilis. There would now be no stop until Lourdes searcely three-quarters of an hour more; and Lourdes stood out with its great hope in the midst of this long and cruel night. The painful waking was rendered feverish by this thought, a last jgitation was created throughout the morning's discomfort, the abominable suffering that had to hegin again, But Sister Hyacinthe was troubled most of all about the man, whose face, coverad with sweat, she had not ceased to sponge. He had lived till then. She had watched him, not having closed her eyes for a second, listening under a shed. What a shock for those wrotches! What will power in the man of faith had then brought them to the miracle! And the father smiled softly as he thought of the work ho had accomplished He now questioned the doctor, on whose shoulder he was still leaning “How many pilgeims did you have last year?" ‘‘About 100,000 That is about the average. { The year of the Coronation of the Virgin the number mounted up to 500,000, But that was an exceptional occasion. A considerable effort on the part of the Propagand; at urally such crowds rarely como again. There cnsued a silence, then the murmured; “Of course, It prospers from day to day. We have col- lected more than 200,000 francs for this trip, priest and God will be with us. You will have a great number of curos Lo certify tomorrow, I am sure.”” Then, speaking once more “Has not Father Dr. Bonamy made a vague much as to say he did not Kather Dargeles was employed as the editor of the Journal of the Grotto, He belonged to the order of the fathers of the Immaculate { Conception, who were Instalied at Lourdes | by the bishop and who were absolute mas- 1 Dargeles come?" gesture, as know. This ters there. But when the fathers of the As- sumption conducted the national pilgrimage from Parls that was joined by the faithful from Cambrai, Arras, Chartres, Troy Rhelms, Sens, Orleans, Blois, Poltiers, they affected to disappear from it completely, their omnipotence was neither felt at the grotto nor in the cathedral. They appeared { to have handed over all responsibility when delivering the keys of these places. The superior, Father Capdebarthe, whose frame was loosely knit and whose large head looked as though earved by a pruning knife, a kind of defaced peasant’s face (hat retained the dull and reddish refection of the soil, did not even show up. There was only Father Dargeles, small and insinuating, to be met everywhere in search of uotes for the news- paper. But if the fathers of the Immaculate Conception were lost to slght they were felt R BERNADETTE'S BIRTHPLACE, to his faint breath with the engrossing de- | all the same behind this vast decoration, sire to get him at least as far as the grotto. Suddenly she was afraid, and addressing Mme. de Jonquiere said: “I beg you, please to pass me the bottla of vinegar quickly; I do not hear him breathe any longer."” In fact, for a moment past the man had not made his faint sigh. His eyes were still closed, his mouth half open; but his pallor could not have increased, because he was already cold, ashen hued. And the railway carriage, as it rolled over the rattling rails, | seemed to go faster and faster. “I will rub his temples ugain,” said Sister Hyacinthe. “‘Help me.” As a violent jolt shook the carrlage the man snddenly fell, with his face downward, against the partition. He remained straight up, with rigid body, onfy at each jolt his head made a slight motion. The train bore him on with the same thundering noise, while the locomotive whistled shrill and sharp, a whole fanfare of screaming joy, happy, no doubt to arrive on this calm night. For one interminable half hour the jour- ney was brought to a close with the dead man. Two great tears rolled down Sister Hyacinthe's cheeks, then with clusped hands she commenced to pray. The occupants of the whole carriage shuddered, terrified by the presence of this awful companion, whom they were taking too late to the Holy Virgin. But hope was stronger than sorrow, and though all the ills that were crowded there together should revive, increase and be renewed un- der the overpowering fatigue, none the less aid a hymn of praise announce their tri- upphal entrance to the land of miracles. The invalids finished singing the Ave Maris | Stella, although tears were flowing on ac- count of their pains, and tears and cries wero blended in a growing clamor where the moans changed nto songs of hope. Marie again took Pierre’s hand in her own little feverish fingers. 0 God, that man is dead, and T feared so that I might die before we could arrive. And now we are there; we are there at last!” The priest trembled with infinite emotion: “You will be cured, Marle, and I too shall be cured if you pray for me. The locomotive whistled louder than ever through the bluish darkness. They were ar- riving. The lights of Lourdes were seen on tho horizon, and once again the whole train sang tho canticle, the history of Bernadette, the long compline of sixty verses, in which the angelic salutation returns withcut ceas- ing, as a refrain, soothing, possessing, open- ing the sky with its ecstacy. SECOND DAY. Chapter T. It was twenty minutes past three by the station clock, whose dial was lighted by a reflector, and the shadows of those who were walting patiently might be seen moving up and down under the shed that covered the platform for about a hundred yards. In the distance in the blackness outside codld only be distinguished the red light of a signal. Two of the persons walking stopped. The larger, a priest of the Assumption, the reverend Father Fourcade, the director of the national pilgrimage, who had arrived the day before, was a man of 60, fine look- ing in his black clonk with its long hood. His handsome head, with its bright and dominating eyes and thick, gray beard, was that of a general whose determined mind js bent on conquests. But he dragged one leg along, having been suddenly seized with an attack of gout, and he leaned on the shoulder of his companion, Dr. Bonamy, the physiclan attached to the Bureau of Verification of Miracles, a small, short man, with a square clean shaven face and dull eyes that looked stupidly out of a peaceful countenance. Father Fourcade had interpellated the sta- tion master, who had just run out of his office: “Please, sir, Is the white train much be- hind?" “No, reverend father, about ten minutes. It will be here on the half hour. But what troubles me fs the train from Bayonne. That should have gone by already. And he ran on to give an order; came back, thin and nervous, agitates the state of feverish anxiety that kept him on the stretch for days and nights during the season of these great pilgrimages. That day he expected, outside the ordinary service of the road, eighteen trains, containing more than 15,000 trayelers. The gray train and the blue train that had left Paris first had already arrived on time. But the white traln being behind time had disarranged everything, all the more because the Hay- onnes express had not been signaled, and one could understand the continual personal supervision and momentary alertness that was required from the station master him- self. In ten minutes, then?" repeated Father Fourcade. “Yes, in ten minutes, unless I am obliged to close the line,” sald the sta- tion master, running to the telegraph office. The priest and the doctor began again to walk slowly. They were only surprised that as yet no accident should have happened in so great a crowd. Formerly there éxisted the most incredible confusion. The father could easlly remember the first pilgrimage that he had organized and conducted In 1875; the terrible interminable fourney, without pillows, mattresses; invalids half dead that were almost impossible to revive; then the arrival at Lourdes; getting out of the traln pellmell; not the slightest materlal prepara- tlons; neither traces, litters nor carriages Today there existed a powerful organization; an hospital was ready for the invalids, and one was no longer reduced to le on straw as being the hidden, yet sovercign power, who coined money, wiho worked without ce ing for the triumphal prosperity of house. They even made use of their the hu- mility. “It is true,” said Father Fourcade, gayl; | “one has had to get up very early—at 2 o'clock—but 1 wished to be on hand. would my poor children have said?"” | It was thus he designated the invalids—the flesh to be miraculously treated, and he never failed to be at the station, at no mat- ter what hour, to meet the white train, that pitiful train with its burden of suffering. “Three twenty-five, five minutes more,” said Dr. Bonamy, suppressing a yawn, as he looked at the clock, feeling really very cross, notwithstanding his obsequious air at having left his bed so early in the morn- ing. Their sauntering was continued on the platform that resembled a covered walk, in the midst of the darkness, lighted only by gas jets that looked like little yellow rings. Various persons in small groups—priests, men in top coats, an officer of dragoons— | came and went without stopping, talking | in low tones. Others, seated on the benches that were aginst the wall, chatted or Wwaited patiently, looking out vacantly into the dim country. The offices and waiting rooms, brilliantly lighted, were opening their doors, and already everything was il- luminated in the eating room, where one could see the marble topped tables and the counter filled with platters of bread and fruit, bottles and glasses, But, above all, to the right, at the end of the shed, there was a confusion and crowd. It was yonder, by means of a car- riageway, that the invalids were taken out. Obstructions in the form of litters, small carriages, heaps of cushlons and maltresses | filled the sidewalk. Three companies of litter bearers were also there, men from all walks of life, especially young men of high society, all wearing on their clothes the red cross, outlined with yellow, and the yellow leather strap. Many had adopted the beret, the comfortable headgear of the land. A few, dressed as if for a long moun- tain climb, wore handsome gaiters reaching to the knee. Some smoked, while others, seated in their little carriages, slept or read a newspaper by the light of the nearest gas Jet. A little apart a group stood discussing some question of service. Suddenly the lit- ter bearers saluted. A paternal looking man had come, very white haired, with a heavy, 800d natured face, with big blue eyes, like those of a credulous child. It was Baron Suire, a man possessing one of the largest fortunes and best positions in Toulouse, and the president of the Hospitality of Our Lady of Salvation. AERN “Where is Berthaud?"' he inquired of each with an important manner. “Where is Berthaud? I must speak to him." Each one answered, giving different in- formation. Berthaud was the director of the litter bearers. This one had ju-t seen the director with Rev. Father Brancard; that one said he must be in the court yard of the station, Inspecting the ambulances. “If the president wishes we will go and find the director——"" What “No, no, thanks; I can essily find him myselt."” All this time Berthaud, who was sitting on a bench at tho other end of the station walting for the train to arrive, was talking to his young friend, Gerard de’ Peyrelonguc. He was a man of about 40, of large and regular features, and still wore a mustache as he had done when a magistrate. He be longed to an influential legitimist family, and had himself most arbitrary opinions. He had been since May 24 counsel for the re- public in a town in the interior, when on the day following the decree against congre- gations he had been obstreperously dis- missed by an insulting letter addressed to the minister of justice. He had not been disarmed, but by way of protestation he had joinéd the Hospitality of Our Lady of Salvation, coming ecach year to Lourdes, convinced that these pilgrimages were dis- agrecable and annoying to the republic, and that God alone could re-establish a mon- arcy by one of those miracles He worked in the grotto. In the meantime he possessed great common sense, laughed heartily, showed a jovial charity for the poor invalids whose transportation he supervised during the three days of the national pilgrimage. “Then, my dear Gerard,” he was saying to the young man seated near him, “your marriage will surely come off this year?" “Of course, If I can find the wife I want,” answered the other. “Come, cousin, ad- vise me." Gerard de Peyrelongue, small halred, with a turned up nose and sharp cheek 'bones, came from Tarbes, where his father and mother had just died, leaving him an income of at the most 7,000 or 8,000 francs. Very ambitious, he had been unable to find in his own country such a wife as he wished, well born and a ble to push him onward and upwerd. So he jolned the Hospi- tality and came each year to Lourdes with tho vague hope ¢hat he might amidst the crowds of the faithful or in the throng of ladies and solid young girls discover the family that he needed to help him on in the Journey through this mortal life, He was now rather perplexed, for although he had several young girls In view, one one of them completely satisfied him. “Now, cousin, you who are a man of ex- thin, red perlence, advise me. Thero is Mile. Lemer- | cler, who comes here with her aunt. She Is | very rieh, wmore than a million, they say. The work Is blessed. | e et ———————————————————— But she s not of our set and I fancy she I very hairbrained, Berthaud shook his head “I have told you I would take little Ray- monde, Mlle, de Jonqulere. “But she not got a penny.” “That is true—hardly enough to pay for her living. Dut she Is sufficontly pleasing as regards looks, well brought up and cer- taninly has no expensive tastes, and surely what is the use of marrying a rich wife it she spends everything she brings? And, fur- ther, you see, [ know the ladies well, I have met thom during the entire winter in the wonlthiest eircles in Parls, Then do not for- get the uncle—the diplomat who has had the sad courage to remain In the service of the republic and who can do for his nephew whatever he wishes. Startled for a moment Gerard once more fell into his musings “Not a penny; not a penny; it is too stiff, 1 will think it over again; but really I am too much afraid This time Berthaud laughed loudly. “Come, come; you are ambitions. One must play boldly. I tell you you can be secrctary at an embassy before two yoears are past, The ladies are In the white train that we ait. Decide. Begin at once to make love." must think No, no; by and by, I it At this moment Baron Suire, who had passed without seeing them in th had recognized the jolly laugh of the former punsel for the republic, and at once, with the volubility of a man who loses his head easily, he gave several orders about the car- they were Interrupted, them once r lonely corner, ringe and the means of transportation, de- ploring that they could not take the invalide immediately upon arriving to the grotto— but, of course the hour was too early. were to be installed at the Hospital of Our Lady of Sorrow, where they would be able to_rost after such a severe journey While the baron and the head litter bearer were thus deciding what was to bo done, Gerard was shaking hands with a priest who had sat down beside him on the bench Abbe des Hermoises, who was scarcely 38 years old, had the superb physique of n worldly priest, well groomed, sweet smelling and adored by women. Most amiable, very distinguished, e came to Lourdes with no duties of a priest, but as many came there, for their own pleasure, and he retained, in the depths of his beautiful eyes, the bright sparkle, the skeptical smile, superior to all idolatry. To be sure, he believed, he vowed; but the church had not yot pronounced her flat on the miracles, and he scemed discuss them. He had lived at Tarte knew Gerard “Well,” said he, “this is sufficiontly in ing, this waiting for the trains at night, n meeting a lady, one of my formor peni- tents at Paris, but I am not sure by which train sho will come. So, you sce, I remain. It all interests me so much.” Then another priest, an old country priest, also came and sat down, begiuning to chat with him, speaking about ihe beauty of the country about Lourdes and of the “coup do theater” a moment ago, when the mountaing appearcd as the sun was rising. But once more a sudden c heard. 7T station mas| ran, giving o ders, and Father Fourcade, even with his gouty leg, did not wait to lean on Dr. Bona- s shoulder, but came along fast. AN! It is the Bayonne express that is in trouble,” the station master answered to all the questions. I wish I had further news. I am not at all eas At that moment some ringing was Leard, a train hand disappeared into the darkness swinging a lantern, while a signal worked in the distance. And the stationniaster added: “Ah! This time it is the white irain. Let us hope we shall have time to land our in- valids before the express passes.” He went his way and disappeared. Berthand called Gerard, who was the head of one quad of litter bearcrs, and both of them hastened, each to join his own company, of which the Baron Suire was already making use. The litter bearers were pouring in on all sides —were running and puiling their little car- riages across the rails up to the landing platform, an uncovered platform in full ob- scurity. There soon was a heap of cushions, mattresses and litters waiting, while Father Fourcade, Dr. Bonamy, the priests, the gentlemen and the officer of dragoous wera also crosing over to aid in helping the in- valids to get out, and far off, at the end of the dark lane, nothing could yet be seen like a Loy pr imotion was but the headlight of the Jocomotive, red star, that got bigger and bigger. The whistle shrieked wildly through the nlght air. When It had stopped there could only be heard the hissing steam, the slow rumbiing of the wheels as they went, slower and slower. Then, distinctly might e heard the canticle, the cowplaint of Bernar- dette, sung by the entire train, with the r curring Aves of the refrain. And that train of suttering and faith, that train, groaning and singing, thus making its entrance into Lourdes, stopped. Instantly all the doors were opened. The crowd of well pilgrims and the il ones who could walk got down and filled the platform. The occasional gas jets lighted but fecbly that poor crowd, with its neutral tinted gar- ments, hampered by packages of all sorts— by batkets, valises and wooden boxes. And in the midst of shoving and pushing, among the frightencd flock that did not know which way (o turn to get out, might be heard cx- plavations, calls from members of families who had got separated, the embraces of those who had been met by relations or friends. One woman declared with an air of benign satisfaction: I have slept well.” A vicar going off with his valise said to a crippled woman: “Good luck.” Almost all had tho astonnded, fatigued, Joyous appearance of people whom a special train has landed in an unknown station. And the bustle be- came such, the confusion became 50 aggra- vated in the midst of the dim light, that the travelers could not even hear the direc. tions of the employes, who cried: “Thiy way, this way,” in order to hasten the clearance of the platform. Sister Hyacinthe Jumped quickly out of the railway carriage, jeaving the dead man In charge of Sister Claire des Auges; and losing her lead some- what, ran to the canteen van, thinking that Ferrand would help her. Fortunately she found Father Fourcade in the van, to whom in a low tone she told the story. He made a motion of displeasurc, called the Baron Sulre, who was passing, and spoke in hiy car. Por several seconds they whispered together, then Haron Suire rushed t)l'l‘ i viding the crowd, with two litter bearers carrying a closed litter, And the man wi borne wway as though he had merely t any of the pllgrims occupy: ut him, in the scurry .ol litter bearers, ';( ded him meantime in one of the carriage houses, behind the r:m[l& One of the two, a littie blonde, son of general, remained with the body. X K fiyncinthe had meanwhile returne to the railway carriage after asking M»:l.l St. Francols and Ferrand to go and walt for her outside the s |nnl; \\:l-‘rw Ill ;‘y‘,‘rrh,‘:' een engaged to take them to 0 hoss ;l.l:lnl.lulznr Our, ‘I’,.Nl)’ of Sorrows, She thought Bhe would, before going, help some of the invalids out, but Maric would not allow elt to be touched: “No, no, do not bother about me, sister] emain until the last. My father nlm:‘lm‘/{]hhrl' Froment have gone to fetch my, Wheels from the luggage van, and [ am walting for them, as they know just how to adjust them. ~They will take care of me, rest u»\llrv!L\'; R Nelther was M. Saba er 0 l)!ll\l‘olruh anxious to be removed before the crowd had dispersed a little. Mme. de Jonquiere, who had charge of La Grivotte, promised that she would also see that Mme. Vetu was taken away In an ambulance, Sister Hyacinthe therefore declded to start at once to have everything in readiness at the hospital. he took with her little Sophic Coutcau, and Ellse Rouguet, whose faco she herselt carefully covered. = Mme, Muze went on ahead, while Mme. Vincent strugglod through the crowd carrying on her shoulders her child, fainting and white, with but cne fixed idea that of going to deposit the girl in the grotto at ahe foet of the Holy Virgin, Tho rush now poured out of the door of oxit, and 1t became® neces- Sary to open the doors of the luggage room %o facilitate the movements of 0 many peo- The employes, hardly knowing how to fainted, withe ing the! ves about arriving, The two by the baron,*placed Brother ple. take so many tickets, finally held their caps—caps that were quickly filled by the rain of little white pasteboards. And out in the courtyard, a large courtyard that surrounded three sides of the lower part of the station, there also existed an exs traordinary confusion, a pellmell of every Kind of vehicle. Hotel omnibuses, backed up against the edge of the sidewalk, were Qesignated by large placards, cach bearing a saintly title such as the names of Marle and of Josus, of Saint Michas), of the Rosary and of the Sacred Heart. Then followed rows of ambulances, landaus, cabs, light