Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, June 10, 1894, Page 18

o+ COPYRIGHT BY JAMES GORDON BENNETTo 18544 RESUME OF LOURDES. | Briet Synopsis of the Portion of Zola's Grea Story Which Has Born Printed. FIRST DAY, The openine seene of **Lourds famenced in serial form in Sufis 1l 15, 14 In o car of the “'white aln,'" whi ricx the very slek pilgrims from’ Pads to Lourdes. Among the pllgrims in Marle e Guersaint, o young woman who for ars has boen bedriddon 1a_accompanied y hor father and the re Fromeot CHAPTER The Plerre wan the won of o ¢ who 1ved ullly, Living next them w saint and his famby. Little Marie de ul Plerre p wether, and finally with e nu thoy grew up. ved an which resulted in ohe could never be oriest CHAPTER 111,—The Antonse when it stops at | for lunch. CHAPTET 1V. tenu gets . 83 accorded to hor di it In the waters at CHAPTER V.—The giving the history of T the elghteen times ah CHAPTER 1 which was 1'% 1406 0 Grersint el I love Marls rec neatly total ame injury ring In the train Is prtievs half an hour As the train starts Sophle Cous (el the story of the cure wwed foot by simply dipping Tonrae abbe rends aloud a book imadotte, and describes wiw the vislons inthe stto. . Lourdos Is reached in the early morn- Bk, An the. train roil nto the Atation an un- &nown man dies. s D DAY. CHAPTER L—A vivid pictur eonfuslon when the [nvalids conveyed to the hospits CHAPTER I1—The hospital crowded. At 8 a. m. the procession to the Erotto starts ither Massals asks the vi congregation to pray for a great miraole, a3 the Lody of the man who dled in the train is to bo fmmersed In the pool in hopes that life will be estored. P eHAPTER 111 his old friend, Dr, Chassatgne. The crowd forces the abbe to the pools. The dead man Is brought in and fmmersed No m occurs, On going out the abbe finds that Marfe has been bathed with- out_effeot. CHAPTER 1V, the abbe to the iture is given of the are landed and is greatly over- The abbe meet Chassaigne accompanies u of Certifications. — Eliza Touqiet, whos face was made hideous by a 1upus; declarcs the sore Is steadily drylng up, L' Grivott had been in the | eAnsumption, comes rushing in, shouting, “I am oured ! CHAPTER V.—In_the arie, Bhe (s much defWessed and I losing her ith. He reads to the invalids, continuing the v ot Bernadette, telling how persecutions fol- lowed upon ‘the first The recitation cheers them aip, and restores Marie's faith. . THIRD DAY, CHAPTER 1.—Pisrre and M. de Guersaint have & small poom in the de Appparitions. Piera disoovers that Mme. Volmar. the wife of o rich Parisian, who has to Lourdes as a devout fs hid in the adjoining room, occupled by her lover, wiom she has come on the pil- £rimage to The hotel 1s 8o crowded that ening the abbe visits he meal, In the con- tizing. 11. M. de CHAPTER Guersaint Raymonde. o whom meet Mme. They are joined by Raymonde s engaged. it “'the popote where the strotcher bear from all _classcs, Tich and poor alike, take méals together. Per- miasion I8 recelved for Marie th pass o night at the grotto. The party also visits the building where the holy water is bottled and where the candles are made. THIRD DAY. THIRD DAY—Chapter TII By nightfall Marie was all impatience in the Hospital of our Ladyof Sorrows, for she had learned through Mme. de Jonquiere that the Baron Suire had obtained permission from. Father Fourcade for her to pass the night before the grotto. Bvery few minutes she would question Sister Hyacinthe: 0N, Sister, pray tell me, is it 9 o'clock yet?” “No, no, my good child; hardly haif- past 8. Here Is a good woolen shawl to wrap about you at daybroak, for the Gave is very mear and the early mornings are fresh and cool in this land of mountains.” “Oh, sister, the nights are so fine, and I sleep 80 little here in the ward. I cannot possibly be uncomfortable out of doors. Oh, God, how happy I am! What a delight to pass the entire night with the Holy Virgin!" Every one in the ward envied her. It was an Ineffable joy, a supreme blessing to pray 8hus a whole night in front of the grotto, It was sald that the elect certainly saw the Virgin during the stillness of the peaceful night. But one had to have great influence 20 procurs such a favor. The fathers were very loathe to give it, for several Invalids had dled in consequence, as though they had Mile. vrelongue, gone away In some ecstatic slumber. “And then, my child,” continued Sister Hyacinthe, ““tomorrow morning you will take the communion at the grotto before they fetch you back here." Niné o'clock struck. Could Pierre, usually 0. punctual, have forgotten her? They were telling her now about the procession of. torches and candles that she would see from beginning to end it she started at once. Every cvening the ceremonies ter- sninated by such a procession, but that of Junday was always finer, and tonight it dud_been speclally announced that the pro- Aesslon. would be of extraordinary splendor, aeldom equalled, Nearly 30,000 plligrims would Tharch, each with a taper in his hand. Nocturnal marvels were noout to be dls- played, stars were about to come down to earth! And all the invalids regretted their sad state that chained them to their beds, 80 that they could witness none of these prodigies. “My. dear daguhte sald at last, “‘here are abb: Marle, radiant, quite forgot her waiting. “Oh, Plerre, I beseech you, hurry, hurry. They took her down stairs. The priest got the little cart in readiness that rolled smoothly along beneath the sky so filled with stars, while M. de Guersaint walked by her side. It was a night without a moon, but marvelously beautiful, deep blue velvet sky dotted all over with diamonds, and the soft alr was exquisite—a perfect bath of tepid alr, perfumed by the mountain breezes. Many pllgrims were hurrying along the street walking toward the grotto, but it was a temperate crowd, a select human flood, showing no longer the frivolous rest- lessness of the preceding day. As they reached the Plateau de la Merlasse the darkness increased and they seemed to be beneath an immense black sky, in a shadowy lake formed by the grass pots and large trees, while to the left might be seen point- iug upward the thin dark spire of the Ba- sillca. Pierre was troubled at seeing the crowd thicker and more dense as they wont on. In fact, in the Place du Rosaire they could acarcely move at all. “We cannot think of getting nea e 8roLLo,". he #ald, stopping short. -1t will he better to go to some path behind the pil- Erime’ sheltor and wait thore ul arie was most anxi start of the procession: hethad o R 1 b, please, dear friend, try to get as the Gave. I can see it from o Siscen s A 8ot want o g oo near. 3 L de Guersaint, who was ci shy also nsisted: 8. icloor. s mot bo afraid. T will come be and I whll watch that no one Jostles her o Plerre started off again, dragging the cart. It took him a quarter of ‘an hour to get un. der one of the arches to the right of the ramparts, so great was the crowd just there. He found afterward that by going across toward the quay, on the banks of the Gave, that there were only spectators standing on the sidewalk, 50 he went on for about fitty yards, and, pushing the cart directly against the ralling, they had a fine view of the grotto. “Will you be comfortable hore?" “Oh, yes, thanks. But I must sit up. I shall see much better " M. do Guersaint ralsed her on her seat, and then got up himself on the stone bench that 1s placed from one end of the quay to the other. A crowd of sightseers were packed there, as on some nights when fireworks are 10, bo met off. All stretched their necks, standing on tiptoes. Even Pierre felt inter- ested, although as yot there was nothing to be seen. There were already 80,000 persons present and more were comlug each moment. Al Mme. de Jonquiere your father and the carried A eandle that was wrapped in a twist of white paper, on which was printed in blue a picture of Our Lady of Lourdes. These candles were not yot lighted. Only the grotto, brilliantly {lluminated, might be seen across this moving sea of heads, throwing ont a bright light like that from a forge. A great murmuring and the shufing ot | many feet gave one the impression of thou- sands of people being jammed and squeezed together, lost In the deep shadows, but fluttering like a living tablecloth that got larger and larger. Poople were under the trees beyond the grotto in dark places that were not_suspected. here and there began to be lghted, like sudden stars plorcing through the obscurity almost by chance. The number increased rapldly, and islands of stars formed, while on other sides milky ways and long trails seemed to form entire constellations. The 30,000 candles were sparkling one by one, nearer and uearer, completely overshadowing the bright glow of the grotto, and rolling from one end of the promenade to the other, the little yellow flames, like an immense brazier. ““Oh,” murmured Marie, “oh, Plerre, how beautiful! It is like the resurroction of the lowly, the souls of poor people that wake again to shine.” “'Superb, superb,” repeated M. de Guer- saint in the enthusiasm of his artistic satis- faction. “Look over there, those two trails that are cut in two and form a cross. Piorre was greatly touched by what Marie bad just said. Those little weak flames, scarcely a point of light, were indeed like the modest lives that only their number ever made known and showed in the splen- dor of the bright sunlight. New ones were constantly appearing far off and almost as if lost. “Ab,” he murmured, “that ome that ap- peared alone, so far away, so vacillating. Do you see it, Marie? How it grows and comes slowly toward us to lose itself in the great lake of fire!” One could now see as clear as in the day. The trees, lighted from below, looked in- tensely green, like painted trees in scenery or decorations. The banners, high above the moving lights, remained motionless, most distinet, with their embroideries and silken cords, and ‘the whole reflected all up the rock, even to the Basilica, whose spire at present appeared perfectly white against the black sky; while on the other side of the Gave the hiils were also plainly visible, showing the pale facades of the convents in the midst of their dark trees. There was a moment of uncertainty. The fiery lake, every wick of which was like a small wave, rolled its sparkling stars as though It would break and rush into a river. And the banners waved. There was a motion for- ward. “Hullo,” sald M. de Guersalnt, “‘they are not coming this way, then.” Pierre, who knew about it all, then ex- plained that the procession first started along in lines established at certain dis- tances on the wooded hills, then, turning behind the Basilica, it came down the ram- part o the right and might be seen crossing through the gardens. “See, the first candles are going up. You can see them among the trees.' It was a fairy scene. The little trembling lights stretched from the vast assemblage gently moved along, so delicately that it was “impossible . to distingulsh what held them on earth. They moved like sunbeams into the darkness. Soon there was an oblique line, then the line doubled by a sud- den turn, and a new line was seen, that in its turn went round. Finally the entire hill- side was covered by a zigzag of fire, such as those strokes of lightning that are seen in pictures. But the luminous line was not effaced, for the little lights moved on softly and slowly. Once in a_while there would occur a brief eclipse, when the pro- cession passed behind some group of trees. Farther on the candles reappeared, upward as they turned by a complicated path, in- terrupted continually, but always rejoined again. At last the moment came when they did not go further, for having reached the top of the hill they disappeared over the last turn of the road. Voices were heard in_the crowd: ‘“There they are turning behind the Ba- silical Oh, it will be twenty minutes yot before they come down-on the other side!” ““Yes, madame, there are 30,000, and it will be at least an hour before the last ones leave the grott: Before the start a hymn had been sung in the midst of the two mutterings of the crowd. It was the compline of Bernadette, the sixty verses, each with its angelic salu- tation.as a. refrain, In its soothing measure. When the sixty verses were finished they were commenced again, and thus the rhythm went on_endlessly, ‘“Ave, ave, ave Maria,” overpowering the senses, overcoming the members of the body, carrying away little by little these thousands of persops in a sort of waking dream—a full vision of paradise. All the night long, even when they slept, the bed seemed rocked by its measure, and they still sang the song: “Are we going to remain here?" asked M. de Guersaint, who was quickly tired. “Once seen, it 1s all aliki Maria, who had heard people talking in the crowd, now said: “You were right, Plerre; it would be better to go back there under the trees. I want so much to see it all.” “Certainly,” answered the priest, “we will find a place where you can see everything. The hard part will be to get out of this. The crowd of spectators had indeed closed them In, almost as with a wall. Pierre was obliged to open a passageway by beggging for a little room for an invalid, and by so doing he obstinately got Marie out, where by turning she could still see the flaming cloth in front of the grotto, the lake, with its shining waves, that flowed ever on in the procession, without seeming to diminish, while M. de Guersaint closed In the ranks by protecting the cart against the shoving and pushing. They finally found themselves free of the crowd and apart. They were near one of the arches, in a deserted spot, where they were able to breathe for a moment. They could only hear the distant hymn, with its recur- ring refrain, and saw nothing but the reflec- tion of the candles in a sort of luminous mist, floating up on the side of the Basilica. “The best place,” declared M. de Guer- saint, “would be fo go up to the Calvary. The maid at the hotel told me so this morn- ing. It seems the view from up there Is like fairyland.” But thet could not be contemplated, Plerre showed how difficult it would be to go. How could we ever get up 80 high with the cart? Then coming down would be very dangerous at night, and with all that pushing crowd." Marle herself preferred to remain In the gardens, under the trees, where It was so quiet. So they started off and reached the planade, opposite the statue of the great Crowned 'Virgin. This was illuminated by means of colored glasses, that made it look In a barbarle splendor, with an aureole of blue and yellow lamps. In spite of his de- votion, M. de Guersaint thought this in ex- ecrablo taste. “Here,” sald Marle, “near this grove we shall be very well placed.” She showed a group of shrubs at one side of the pilgrims’ shelter, and indeed the spot was an excellent one, for the procession could be plainly seen as it went down the left rampart, and might be followed as far us the new bridge, all along the grass, as it described the double parallel movement going and coming. Then, too, the proximity of the Gave made the foliage exquisitely fresh, No one was there as yot, and one might enjoy an Infinite peace in the thick shade of the large pl tals that bordered the pathway. M. de Guersaint stood on his tiptoes, Im- patient to see the first candles reappear after turning round the Basilica. “Nothing can be seen yet,” he sald. “Well, then, I shall sit down on the grass for a few minutes My legs are perfectly broken.” He Was troubled about his daughter. “Do you Want me to cover you up? very coobhere." “Oh, no, father; I am not cold. happy. It is 1 am so It 1s s0 long since I breathed such pure, delicious alr. There must be roses Finally a few candies | EE SUNDAY, JUNE 10, AR A0 2 Wl 1891 o s il A . about here. fragrance 7" Then turning toward Plerre: the roses, my dear friend? them anywhere 2 As soon as M. de Guersaint sat down be- side Marie's cart Plerro thought he would Do you not smell the delicious “Where are an you see { look about and see If any beds of roses were But he searched through the darkest grase plats in vain; he could only find groups of green bushes and shrubs. As he was coming back he passed the shelter for pilgrims and for simple curiosity he looked in It was a large room with a very high cell- ing, lighted by big windows on both sides. 1t was paved with stones, and the walls wore bare; thero was no furniture except benches, shoved all over the place, every which way— not a single table or even a board, so that the pllgrims who had no lodging place but this had piled their baskets, their parcels and their valises on the window sills, that were thus changed into receptacles for lug- gage. The room was empty just then, for all_the poor people who occupled it were probably at the procession. Notwithstanding the wide open door the place was filled with a most insupportable smell; walls impreg- nated with misery; the soiled flagstones, that were still damp in spite of the glorious sun of the preceding day, with spittting, grease and spilled wine. Rverything took place in- side those walls, slceping and eating, in a mass of dirty people and filthy clothes. Pierre was sure the odor of roses did not come from this spot. He walked round the room, lighted by four smoky lanterns, think- ing it absolutely empty, when he was sur- prised to see a vague form against the left wall. A woman dressed in black, holding a white bundle on her knees. She was quite alone in her solitnde and did not move, though ler eyes were wide opén. He ap- proached and recognized Mme. Viheent, who said to him in a low, broken hearted voice: “Yes, Rose has suffered so much today. She has not stopped moaning ever since day- break. Then, as she fell asleep about two hours ago, 1 do not dare to move lest she wake and suffer again.” So she remained as motionless as a martyr mother who for months had held her child in one position, hoping thereby to cure her. She had brought her to Lourdes in her arms, had walked with her thus, had slept with her child in her arms, having no room, not even a bed at any hospital. “Is the poor little thing no better?” asked Pierre, with a bleeding heart. “No, Abbe, no. T do not think she is.” “But,” he added, “you are most uncom- fortable on this bench. You should have made :ome arrangement not to remain in this way almost in the street. Some one would have gladly given your little girl a lodging, I am sure.” “Oh! sir, what good would that do? She is now on my own knees. And perhaps I might not have been allowed to remain with her like this. No, no, I would rather have her in my arms. Perhaps that may be the means of saving her life. Two great tears rolled down her motionless face and she continued in a choked voice: “I am not entirely without money. I had 30 sous when I left Paris, and of that I still have 10. Bread is enough for me; as for her, my little darling, she cannot even take a drink of milk. I have enough to last until we start again, and it she is healed, oh! we shall be rich, rich, rich indeed.” She leaned forward, looking by the vacil- lating light of the neighboring lantern at Rose’s white face, whose lips were parted by a faint breath. ‘“See how she sloeps, Abbe. Do you mot think the Holy Virgin must take pity on her and cure her? We have only one more day, but I do not de- spair, and I am going to pray this entire night without moving. It will be tomorrow; we must live for tomorrow An infinite pity surged over Pierre, who moved away lest he, too, might burst into tears, “Yes, yes, my poor woman, hope on. And he left her alone in that great room. deserted and foul smelling, amid the con- fusion of the benches; motionless {n her sor- rowful mother love, fearful lest the heav- inis of her bosom should awaken the invalid. Like one crucified she prayed on, her mouth shut, yet her prayers most ardentiy uttered. When Pierre reached Marie she asked him quickly: “Well, and the roses? near us?’ He did not wish to sadden her by telling what he had just seen. “No; I searched all over the lawn, but there are no roses.” “It Is singular,” she said dreamily. “The odor of them is 8o faint, yet 8o penetrating. Do you not smell them? ~ Now, at this mo- ment, it Is very strong, as though all the paradise were blooming about us planted near by. Are there any She was Interrupted by a slight exclama- tion from her father. M. de Guersaint was standing up again, as he had noticed that the luminous specks were on the top of the rampart again, to the left of the basilica. “There they are at last.” It was, indeed, the head of the procession that was appearing. The bright lights seemed to swarm at once, then stretch out in a double oscillating line.” The darkness hid everything; so they seemed to be very high up, as though issuing from the un- known region. At the same time the sooth- ing and calming hymn commenced again, but it was so far off, so faint, that it seemed more like an approaching squall rustling among the trees. “I told you so0,” murmured M, de Guer- saint; “we ought to have been on the Cal- vary to sece all.” ie came back to his original idea in his clildlike obstinacy, deploring that they had choson the worst place from which to see. Marle finally said: “But, papa, why do you not go up to the Calvary? There is still plenty of time. Plerre will stay with ne. And,” she added, with a sad smile, ‘nobody will run away with me. Do go.” He refused, only to suddenly comply, in- capable of resisting the impulse of a wish. He would have to hurry and cross the grass in fast time, Do not move from here; waiti for me un- der these trees. I will tell you all I seo from up there.” And Plerre and Marie remained alone in their obscure corner, that was filled with the perfume of roses, yet not a single flower was in sight. They did not speak, but looked at the procession as It passed down, gliding softly, yet smoothly. 1t looked like a double hedge of twinkling stars, which, beginning at the left corner of the Basilica, followed the monumental ram- part, whose contours were thus marked clearly. From this distance the pilgrims who carried the candles were not visible, and only the moving lights were seen, tracing in regulated movements the correct lines of the bulldings. Even the monuments them- selves were vague In the night atmosphere, and seemed scarcely indicated by an appar- ent increase of gloom. But little by little, as the number of candles increased, the architectural lines shono forth—the slender plunacies of the Basilica, the Cyclopean arches of the ramparts, the heavy, over- welghted facade of the Rosary. That unin- terrupted river of bright sparks, that flowed, that flowed slowly on, with the obstinate force of a stream that has overflowed its banks and that nothing can stop, looked at last like the aurora, a glowing mist that in- vaded, that finally bathed the whole horizon with its glory. “Look look, Plerre!” cried Marie with an almost childish pleasure. ““It never seems o stop—it still keeps coming. In fact, the sudden apparition of little sparks continued with a4 mechanioal regular- ity, as If some inexhaustible celestial spring had bubbled forth with this gol- den liquid fire. The head of the procession had reaohed the gardens that are on a level with the statue of the crowned Virgin, 50 that now the double line of lights marked out both the circles of the Rosary and those of the large arches of approach. The approach of the multitude made itself felt by a motion in the air, & palpable stir coming from a distance, and above all sounded the volces singing the compline of Bernadette, and a confusion of harmonies floated the refrain, “Ave, ave, ave Maria," in a rhythmic tone, that rose higher and higher as they walked. “Ah!" sald Plerre, “that refratn—it enters into the very soul. 1 feel as though my whole being would end by singing it.” Marte again laughed like a child, “That is trae; it follows me everywhere. 1 heard it even whin asieep, and mow 1t selses me “once more and lifts me above earthly things." She stopped to say: “There they aro now, on the other side of the lawns, just oppdsite u Now the processjon was coming down the right hand path, and' after going round. the Cross of the Bretous,. quite round the grass, it would go down by the other right hand road. It would thké mbout fifteen minutes to oxecite this movement. At present the double line formed-two long parallel lines of flame, that terminated in a figure of a tri- umphal sort of suy. The constant wonder was the march withbut ceasing of this serpent of fire, whose golden wings crawled so gently along the black eagth, drawing itself out al- most indeflnitely, as though its Immense body were without end. Several times great haste must have been made, for the lines thinned as it about to snap in two, but order had been re-established, the gliding had re- commenced with siow reguiarity. A milky way had fallen from above, roliing down its falling worlds, that reached the earth to be- come brilllant stars, A blue clearness cov- ered all. There only remained the sky; the monuments and the trees .appeared as though seen in a dream through the mysteri- ous light of the thonsands of candles, whose number ever increased. Marie gave a sigh of admiration and could find no worda to express her feelings. She could only repeat “Oh, how lovely, my God! how beautiful. Do look, Plerre, is it not beautiful? Now that the procession was passing with- in a few feet of them it no longer resembled the rhythmical march of stars unsupported by human hands, Forms were now easily distinguished through the misty light, and they recognized several pilgrims who were carrying candles. First of all La Grivotte, who insisted in taking part in the ceremany, notwithstanding the late hour, exaggerating her cure and repeating that she had never felt better. So she kept up her springing step and dancing, aithough the fresh night air was giving her a chill. Then came the Viguerons, the father leading, carrying his candle very high up, followed by Mme, Vi- gueron and Mme. Chase, dragging the r tired legs along, while poor little Gustave, quite exhausted, struck the sand with his crutch, his right hand being covered with the drip- ping wax. Al the able bodled invalids were in the procession, among others Elise Rouquet, looking like some damned appari- tion, with her red, uncovered face. Others were laughing, and the little miraculously cured girl of the preceding year, Sophie Cou- teau, played with her candle as though it had been a stick. Rows and rows of heads passed by, most of them women of the lower classes, but having sometimes superb fea- tures that were seen for a second, then lost in the fantastical light. It seemed as if it would never stop, others followed on so- fast, and a tiny, timid little shadow turned out to be Mme. Maze, whom they never would have recognized had she not turned her pale face, drowned in tears, for an instant toward them. “Now look,” explained Pierre to Marie. “There are the first lights of the procession just reaching the Place du Rosaire, and I am sure more than half the pilgrims have not vet passed the grotto.” Marie lifted her oyes. Far away she had indeed noticed, on the left corner of the Ba- silica, other lights surging regularly, and without a break, in a sort of mechanical mo- tion that appeared to go on without stopping forever A “Ah,” she sald, ‘how many souls are in torture! For each one of these little flames Is o soul that sulters and is forgiven, is it not?” Plerre was obliged to lean forward to hear what she said, for the canticle, Bernadette's compline, had duzed him, now that the stream of singers passed 0 close to where they were. -~ The 'voices burst into a growing glddiness, the verses became mixed, each diviston of the procession singing its own in a melody of ecstatic bliss that seemed as though possessed und hearing only them- selves. It was aw Immense, indistinct clam- oring—the lost cfainor of a crowd about to become drunk by the ardor of their own faith. And ever as they sang the refrain, “Ave! Ave! Ave!‘Maria!" returned, dominat- ing with its rhythm . of possessive frenzy, Plerre and Marie were greatly surprised to suddenly see M. de Guersaint appear. “Ab, my childfen, I did not wish to get belated up there, so I have trossed through' the procession twice to get here. But what a sight! It certainly is the first really fine thing I have seen since I arrived here.” And he began to describe the procession as he had seen it from the heights of the Cal- vary: “Just imagine, my dear children, another sky below reflecting the one above, but a sky with but a single constellation, immense, en- tire. Those myriads of stars looked very far off in the sombre depths, and the stream of fire looked exactly like ‘a monstrance—yes, indeed, a true monstrance, the face of which was represented by the ramparts, the branches by the two parallel paths, and the host by the round grass plot that crowns them. It was like a monstrance of bui nished gold, that beamed through the dark- ness with the perpetual sparkling of living stars. There was no other idea—it was gigantic and supreme. Indeed, I have never seen anything so extraordinary.” He waved his arms, beside himself with his artistic emotion. ‘Dear little father,” said Marie, tenderly, “as you have come back you really ought to g0 t0 bed. It is nearly 11 o'clock and you know you start at 2 In the morning. She added decisively: It gives me such pleasure to have you make this excursion, only be back early tomorrow cvening, be- cause you will see—you will see—"" She ‘did not dare affirm her certainty of being cured. “You are right. T will go to bed,” said M. de Guersaint, quite quiet now. *‘So Plerre Is with you T am not worriec “But," she cried, *I do not wish Pierre to pass the whole night with me. ~ When he has taken me to the grotto presently he will join you. I shall need no one. The first litter bearer who comes tomorrow morning will take me back to the hospital.” Plerre was silent, then said simply: “No, no, Marie, I shall stay, 1 intend to pass the night, as you do, before the grotto.” She opened her lips to speak, to insist, to remonstrate, but he had said it so gently that she could perceive a sorrowful thirst for happiness that possessed him, so0 she held her peace, touched to her very heart. Well, ' children,” continued the father, “take care of yourselves. 1 know you are both very sensible. 80 good might. Do not worry about me.” He kissed his daughter fervently, pressed the young priest's hands, and went off, soon lost to view in the ranks of the procession that he once more passed between. They were quite alone in that shadowy, solitary corner, under the great trees; she as ever lying back in her little cart, he kneeling down on the grass, leaning his olbow on one of the wheels. It was heavenly, and all she time the strings of candle 1ights went on and then gathered all together in the Place du Rosaire. What Qelighted Plerre was the sensation that there mo longer remained in Lourdes any troce of the tippfing that had gone on there all day. It was o though a purifying wind from the mountains had swopt away those noxious smells of cooking and eating, those gluttonous joys of Sunday, the burning and poisonous dust that floated over the town. Now nothing could be seen save the im- mense sky with its pure stars, and the fresh moisture from the Gave was deliclous, bringing on its 80Tt mists the odor of strange wild flowers, The Infinite mystery was werged in the soverelgn peace of night, and there remained nothing of the heavy morn- ing but the little candle fames, that his companion had edmpared to suffering souls about to be relensed. It was an exquisite state of reposei and an illimitable hope. Sinco he had come up here all the disagree- able memories of the afternoon, the voraclous appetites, the importuning of the beggars, the spoiled and prostituted condi- tion of the old town, all these had vanished one by one, to leave only the sense of divine refreshment in this heavenly night, when his wholo being was bathed as it were in the waters of resurrection, Marie, too, was penotrated by this feoling of infinite gentleness and murmured tenderly, “'Oh, how happy it would make Blancho to seé all these wonderful things!” She was thinking about her sister, whom sho had left behind In Paris, in the toll of her hard profession, teaching to gain a living. That simple word—the sister of whom she had not spoken since her arrival at Lourdes, unkeeded, yet surging under the calm exterior—was sufficient to evoke the memory of the past. Thus Marle and Plerre without saying a word lived over agalu their childhood—the arclent games in the two gardens, barely soparated by the low hedge. Then came the parting, that day when he entered the wem- ivary and she had kissed his choeks, vowing through her burning tears never to forget him. Years on, and they were etormally separated; he, priest; sho, stricken by Itfness and with al hope of. being u woman gono for ever. ‘That was their whole story, an ardent tenderness Loo long overlooked, then the total rupture. as though ther had both dled, though they really lived near to one another. And onse more they reviewed the wretched home, which the eldest sister tried by her teaching to make bearable; the wretched lodging they had left to make this trip to Lourdes, after §0 much struggling, so many discussions, with his own doubts and her firm faith that had conquered. It was truly delicious to find themselves thus together in that dark corner on such a perfect night, when thera seemed to be as many stars on the earth as in_heaven. Marfe had till now retained her Innocent, clear and blameless, childitke nature, the best and purest, sald her father. Cut down at the age of 12 by her aceident, she had never grown any older. Today at 23 she was still at heart 13, always infantine and backward—all by reason of the catastrophe that had annihilated her. It was plainly visible in her vacant eyes, her absent look and alr of absentmindodness, as though she was Incapable of wishing for anything more. Surely no woman’s nature was simpler, stopped as she had been in her very de- velopment—she had remained a great girl, well behaved, In whom her waking passion was satisfled by great kisses on the cheek. She had no other romance than the tearful farewell she had made to her friend, and that had filled her being for ten years. Dur- ing the interminable days that she had passed on ber bed of pain she never went further than that dream. Had she been in good Wealth he would never have become a priest, but they would have lived together. She never read romances. The plous books thoy gave her maintained her spirit in the exaltation of a superhuman love. Even worldly sounds ceased at the door of the room where she was as If clojstered. And when in former days they used to take her from one end of France to the other, from one bath to another, she seemed like a somnambulist, who neither saw nor heard anything beyond the fixed idea of her ina- bility, the tie that bound her to her sex. All this purity and childishness had kept this lovely, suffering girl, grown only in her sad physical state, in a condition of mind wherein the awakening of love was as far away as though she were still 13. Marie's hand stole through the darkness to take Plerre’s, and when she met it coming toward her own she pressed it for a long time. Ah, what joy! They had never tasted so pure and perfect a joy, to be thus to- gether, far from the world, in this sover- elgn charm of shadow and mystery. Arpund them was only the circle of stars. Even the songs of the pilgrims fintoxicated them as they were wafted to their ecars. She felt 80 sure that she would be cured the next day when she had passed a night of happi- ness in front of the grotto it became an absolute conviction she would make the Holy Virgin listen. She would implore her from the moment they were face to face, and nothing would prevent. She understood now what Pierre had meant awhile ago, when he had expressed a desire to pass the entire night also before the grotto. Was it not because he had resolved to try for a supreme effort of relief that he was thus going to kneel like a little child and implore the Almighty Mother to give him back his lost faith? Even now their clasped hands repeated these things without saying any further words. They promised to pray for oach other, to forget self for that other self with so great a longing to be cured in the mutual -happiness that in that moment they touched upon a divine love that asks only to be sacrificed. It was a heavenly enjoy- ment. “Ah with hideous persons and things; refreshing peace, in which assuage my doubts.” His voice sank. Marle said presently very softly: “And the roses, the perfume of the roses Do you :not smell them, my dear friend? Where are they, that you were unable to find_them?” “Yes, yes, I smell them, but there are no roses. 1 should certainly have seen them, for 1 looked for them everywhere.” “How can you say there are mno roses, when they are filling the air around us with their fragrance and we are bathed in their perfume? There are moments when the odor is so powerful that I am faint with joy, just to breathe it. They must be here, myriads at our very feet." “No; T declare T have looked everywhere. There ‘are no roses, or clse they must be invisible; they must be the grass on which we tread, these great trees above us, or their odor must come from the ground itself, or from the stream yonder, from the moun- tains and from the woods.” They were silent for a moment, then she repeated in an undertone: “How good they smell, Pierre! It seems as though our united hands held a bouquet.” “Yes, they do smell delicious; but it is from you, yourself, Marie, that the perfume comes, as though the roses were growing in your hair.” They no longer spoke. The procession still advanced, the brilliant sparks still showed rounding ‘the Basilica, sparkling through the obscurity like an inexhaustible spring. The fmmense_stream of little moving flames in their double circle striped the darkness like a ribbon of fire. The spectacle was finest on the Place du Rosaire, where the head of the procession, continuing its slow evolution, doubled on itself, maKing circles within' cir- cles, in a kind of endless ball that finally dazzled the pligrims and increased their songs. Soon the circle was like a burning ball, a ball of fire round which ran the blaz- ing ribbon, whose end was unseen, and as the blaze increased the circle became a pond, then a lake. The whole great square of the Rosary was changed into a sea of fire, with its shining waves, bubbling like a whirlpool that never ceased. A reflection like that of an aurora lighted the Basilica. The rest of the horizon was dark. Apart, a few iso- lated candles might be seen far on the roads, and some persons picking thelr way by means of their little lanterns. Far up on the Mount of Calyary the tail end of the pro- cession seemed to be lost, for stars were traveling along up there almost in the open sky. Then there came a moment when the last candles appeared, went round the grass plots, floated and were swallowed up in the Son, of flames. Thirty thousand candles were burning there, turning and flickering under the great, calm sky, whose very stars seemed pale. A luminous mist carried up the hymns, whose penetrating sounds never stopped. And the voices sang, “Ave! Ave! Ave Maria!” that sounded like the crackling of these hearts of fire that were belng con- sumed by their prayers to deliver souls from misery. One by one the candles went out, fell with all its power, very dark and vel soft, yet Pierre and Marie found themselves still sitting there, hidden beneath the mys- teries of the trees, their hands Intertwined, Far away in the obscure streets of Lourdes there were only pllgrims who had lost their way, asking to be shown the road to thelr lodgings. Rustlings moved the shadowy leaves, all that prowled about had gone to rest at the end of this fete day, But they remained, 10st to thought, motionless, do- liciously ‘happy in the midst of that in- eftable perfume of roses that did not exist. CHAPTER IV, Plerro pushed Marle's cart as far as the grotto, and then placed it as close as pos- gible to the grating. It was after midnight. About 100 people were there, some of them sitting on the benches, but the greater num- her kneeling, as though transfixed in prayer. From outside the grotto looked like some chapelle ardente, with its shining candles, through whose starlike brilliancy emerged the statue of the Virgin, white and placid as a dream. The trailing vines seemed to shine like emeralds, the thousands of crutches that lined the vault looked like a trellis of dead wood about to bloom again. The night appeared darker by this bright light, the surrounding objects were drowned in the thick shade where no longer existed cither walls or trees; while the solitury volce of the Gave, with Its flowing wator: from which came such a refreshing dam; ness, gave presage of an lmpending storm under the calm summer sky. “Are you comfortable, Plorre softly, “are you cold?" She had shivered, but it was only the little breeze that seemed to whisper from over the grotto “No, no; 1 am very well off, Just put the shawl over my knees, Thank you, Pierre, do not worry about me. 1 do not need any one else since 1 have Her.” Hor volce saak in ecstasy, her hands clasped, her eyes raised to the white statue in a beatific transfiguration eof her entire poor little sick face. Plerre had, however, e ained by her side for a few moments. He would greatly have liked to wrap her in her shawl, for he ' murmured Pierre,’ ‘this lovely night, its shadows that cover over all the this immense I would gladly Marie?” asked saw her thin littie hwnds tremblo. - But he feared to irritate her, and so was willing to humor fer Tke a child, althowth, as she sat With her two elbowa on she seemed no longer to be aware of his presence. A bench stood near, and as he sat down to think a while himself his eyes fell on a weman kneellng in the shadow dressed in black; she was so slight, %o obliterated, so insignific that at first he bad it per celved her, she was so completely swallowed up In the darkness. Then he recognized hor to be Mme. Maze The recollection of the letter she had received during the day made him pity her. He realized her despair, this solitary creature, who had no physical 1lls to cure, but only ‘asked the Holy Virgin to console the sorrow of her heart by con verting her unfaithful husband. The lotter doubtless contained some harsh answer, for her face bent forward, she appeared to be humiliated and annihilated like some down- trodden creature. She only came to the Rgiotto at night, glad to forget her: feel able to weep there for hours, her martyrdom, imploring for a his tenderness, yet unperceived by Her Iips even did not move, 1t was hor broken heart that ed, that begged poesess once again her share of love and of happiness. Ab! It was that thirst for happiness that brought them all to this spot, these woundod beirts and bodles; and Pierre felt his throat Il with the ardent desire to be satisfiod He longed to throw himself on his knees and implore divine aid, as this poor woman was dolng. But his Hmbs seemed bound, enduring return of anybody #0 he was glad when he felt some one toues | Lis arm, “Come with me, abbe, If you have not scen the grotto. I will show you about, it fs 80 pleasant thero at this hour.” Raising his head, he recognized Baron Suire, the director of the Hospitality of Our Lady of . Salvation. This charming and simple minded man had no doubt take a farcy to Plerre, who accepted, and followed him " into the grotto, which was entirely enpty. The baron oven closed behind them the grating, of which he had a ke; “You st abbe, this is the tim is really well off here. When I come my- sell to pass several days at Lourdes I seldom get to bed before daylight, as I have the habit of finishing the night here. There is no one left and one can be alone. How delightful it is, and how truly near to the Holy Virgin one feels!" He smiled good naturedly, for he was doing the honors of the grofto, as an old habitue, slightly enfeebled by age, but filled with a real affection for this corner. But in spite of this great devotion he was not at all ill at ease there, and gave his cxplications with the familiarity of a man who feels himself to be on godd terms with heaven. Oh, you when one are looking at the candles. There are about 200 that burn at a time, da and night, and it really warms the place In winter even it is quite warm." Indeed Pierre folt rather overcome by the close smell of the wax. When he first entered he had been dazzied by the strong light, but now he looked at the center tri- angular candlestick, shaped like a pyramid, completely stuck full of small candles, like a flaming candlestick, a consteliation of stars. Beyond, to the right, another tri- angle with sun rays held large candles thit formed lines of unequal heights, like organ pipes, some of them as thick as a leg; still otter candlesticks, shaped like a heavy candelabra, were placad here and there on the jutting rocks. The ceiling of the grotto was lower on the left side, so the stone looked as it baked and blackened by the cternal flames that had burned for so many years. The wax ran down like a continual fall of snow, the rims of the triangular candlesticks were running over, white with a thick dust; the whole rocky vault was smeared with grease, and the ground was so covered by it that frequent accidents oc- curred, and a kind of straw mats had to be put about on the floor to prevent tumbles. “Do you see those large ones?” continued Baron Suire obligingly. “They are the dear- est; they cost 60 francs and take a month to burn. Those little ones that cost 5 sous only last three hours. Oh! we do not ccono- mize, for we are never short of candles. Look, there are two baskets full that they have mot had time to carry away (o the shop.” He then proceeded to show the furniture. An organ, covered over with a slip cover; a large chest of drawers, where the vestments were kept; the benches and chairs reserved for the small number of privileged persons admitted during the ceremonies, and finally showed a very handsome movable altar, cov- ered with panels of engraved silver, the gift of some great lady, that was only ex- posed at the season of rich pilgrimages, for fear the dampness should spoil it. Pierre felt annoyed by the gossip of this complaisant man. His religious emotion lost its charm. When he entered he had experi- enced an emotion, notwithstanding his lack of falth, as if the mysterious were about to be revealed. It was at once bitter and sweet. He was greatly touched by many things he saw—the heaps of bouquets thrown at the Virgin's feet, the childish “ex-votos,” little soiled shoes, a small iron brace, a doll- like crutch, almost like a toy. Undernsath the naturai pinnacle where the apparition had taken place, at the spot where the pilgrims rubbed the beads and medals they wished to consecrate, the rock was much worn and polished. Millions of fervent lips had been pressed there, with such a force of love that the stone had become polished like a bit of marble, veined with black streaks. They stopped in front of a hole, in which was a considerable heap of letters and papers of all kinds. “Ah! T was forgetting,” quickly said Baron Suire. “This s most interesting. These are the letters that are thrown every day by the faithful into the grotto through the grating. They are picked up and placed here, and in winter I amuse myself destroy- ing them. You know we cannot burn them without opening them first, for they often contain money—ten sous pleces, twenty sous pieces, and most frequently postage stamps.” He put his hand in among the letters and pulled one out by chance, looked at the supe scription and unsealed it to read it. Nearly all were poorly written and badly spelle and the address, “To Our Lady of Lourdes, was Invariably written in large, uneven le ters. Many contained requests or thanks, incorrectly expressed and with a most ex- traordinary orthography. Many of these re- quests were most touching—such as a little brother to be saved, a suit to be.won, a lover to be retatned or a marriage concluded. Other letters were angry, filled with re- proaches to the Holy Virgin, who had not been polite enough to answer a former letter by granting the wishes of the subscriber. Then there were still others, better written, better expressed, containing confessions, burning prayers, women's souls writing to the Queen of Heaven what they did not dare to tell to & priest in the shadow of the con- fessional.s Finally, one envelope, selected at random, contained merely a photograph- a young girl sending her plcture to Our Lady of Lourdes, with this dedication, “To My Good Mother.” In fact, each day brought the large mail of any powerful Queen, who vecelved supplications and confessions, and who was expected to beslow favors and honors of every sort. The 10 sous, the 2 ous pleces were simply love tokens to tend her toward them, and as for the postage stamps, they could only be used as a con venlent means to sond money, unless they were sent in the actual Innocent idea, like one peasant woman, who wrote that she en closed a stamp, hoping for a reply. I assure you there are some very ones,” concluded the baron, ‘“much less stupid than you would think. For three years 1 have found letters from a very inter- esting lady, who does nothing without telling all about It to the Holy Virgin. She is a married woman, and she had & most danger- ous passion for & friend of her husband Well, Abbe, she overcame R. The Holy Vir- gin answered her by sending her the armor of chastity, a divine strength to resist the wishes of her heart.” He interrupted himself here to “Come and sit down here, Abbe how comfortable one can be here. Plerre sat down beside him to the left, just where the rock declined. It was indeed a gorner for deliclous repose. Nelther of them spoke and & profound silence reigned, when he heard behind his back an indistinct murmur, a light eryatal voice that seemed to come from the invisible. He made a movement that Baron Suire under- stood. “It is the spring you hear. Tt Is just there in the ground behind the grating. Would you like to seo it?" Without waiting for Plerre to assent, he had already stooped down to open one of the panels that protected It, observing at the same time that it was Kept closed thus for fear that some free thinker might throw poison into the water. This extraordinary ight of imagination quite dwmbfounded the priest for a moment, but he placed it o the nice say: Just see o edge of her cart, | It and | to | charming | » Wi B A . Baron's er: for he was often very childe lke. He was struggling with the patent | combination loek that woul not yieh. | "It is very strange,” he murmured; “the | password 48" ‘Rome,’ and [ am sure it has | ot been changed. But the dampness ruins ervthing. We aro obliged to renew the crutches on the celling every two years, for they fall into dust. Fetoh me a candle.” When Plerre had brought a lighted candle that he took fram one of the triangulap sticks, he finally succeeded In opening the steel lock that was covered with verdigrl Then the latticed gateway was pushed back and the spring appeared. It was in a bols Tow of the rock, with a muddy bottom, trom which cozed a clear, limpid water, but not bubbling. It af to cover a falrly largs space, and the baron explained that In ordep to convey the water to the trge fountain It had been run through pipes covered with cos ment. He even confessed that behind the Pools it had been necossary to dig a reser- voir 1o recelve the water during the niht, for fear the feeble flow of water should rum short during the daytime “‘Do you care to taste {t?"'he suddenly safd, | “It is much nicer as It comes right from the carth Pierre did not answer, as he Innocent water, the quiet water that reflected the golden spots of the flickering candle light. Scme drops of falling wax gave him a shudder. He thought of all the giystery connected with this stream that flowed from the mountain side Do drink a glass of it." The baron had filled, by dipping It into the Spring, a glass that was always there, and the priest was obliged to empty It. The water was pure and good; the transparent, frosh streams that ripple down from all the plateaus of the Pyrences. They replaced the lock and both sat down again on the benah. Plerre could still hear, at intervals, the spring with its faint birdlike murmuring, and the baron told him all about the Grotto, at all jts seasons, at all times, in.a rambling sort of way, filled with puerile -details. The summer was the most disagrecable time, for then came the crowds of anxlous pilgrims, the nolsy fervor of thousands of persons, praying and crying at tho same time. But when the autumn rains came-- the floods of rain that crept up to the very threshold of the grotto for days together— then might be seen the pllgrimages from far off lands—Indians, Malays, even Chinese, small, ecstatic yet sflent groups, who knelt down in all the mud at the sign from the missionary. In France, among all the old provinces, Brittany sent the most devout pilgrims, whole parishes where the men were as great in number as the women, and whose pious looks, simple fafth and decent manners were formed to edify the rest of the world. Then winter came, Decomber, with its horrible frosts and heavy falls of snow that barred the mountains, ~ Families then took refuge in the hotels and the faith- ful still came every morning to the grotto; those who wished to avoid noise, who wished to speak alone with the Virgin in the intimacy of solitude. There were also some that nobody knew, who only showed them- selves when certain to be kneeling alone and able to love, like jealous lovers, and retired as soon as any crowd collected near them, And how lovely, that all through the bad weather in winter, in the rain, in the win in the snow, the grotto retaincd its bright- ness! Even on stormy, tempoestuous nights, when there was not a soul abroad, the darkness was lighted by its flames, and they burned like a love ligit that nothing could extinguish. The baron related how tho preceding winter he had come during the heaviest snow storms to pass whole after- noons at this very place, the bench on which he was then sitting. A gentle heat was to be found, although it faced to the north and the sun never shone there. No doubt tho rock, by reason of being constantly heated by the burnthg candles, gave rise to the warmth, but might it not also be possible that by a gracious act of the Virgin eternal April should refgn there? Even the little birds were aware of it, for when the snow froze their feet all the neighboring robins would seek refuge within the ivy that grew. about the holy Statue. But it was at the awakening of spring, when the Gave rolled down in thunder tones with its melted snows, and the trees were taking a green tinge from the mist, that the crowds once more took possession of the sparkling groti from which they chased the little birds: “Yes, ves,” repeated Baron Snire, In‘a slow voice, “I come here alone and pass most delightful days in winter. I never saw but one woman, who always knelt just there, against the grating, so as not to kneel in the snow. She was very young—perhaps 25 | looked at the 2 —and very pretty, a brunette, with magnifl- cent blue eyes. She said nothing, not even seeming to pray, but remained there for hours, terribly sad looking. 1 do not know who she is. 1 have never seen her since.’” He stopped speaking, and when Plerre, surprised at his silence, looked at him, he perceived he had gone to sleep. His hands were clasped on his stomach, his chin on his chest, and with a vague smile on his face he slept like a child. No doubt when he said he had passed the night there he had meant to say he came to take a gentle nap of an eld man and was visited by angels. So Pierre enjoyed the delightful solitude, It was a very real sensution, the enervating calm that entered his spirit in this corner of the rock. It was a mixture of melting Wax, the overpowering ecstasy into which he had fallen, in the midst of the splendor of the candles. He could no longer clearly i tinguish the crutches overhead, nor the “‘ex- voto” at the altar, nor even the altar of engraved silver, nor the harmonteumn covered over with a cloth. A slow lassitude selzed him, a growing annihilation of his whole being. And he felt a divine sensation of being far from the world, of being in"tho midst of the incredible and superhuman, as if the plain iron grating had become the barrier of the infinite itself. A small noise at his left attracted Plerro's attention. 1t was the spring that was @un- ning ceaselessly, with its birdlike sound. Ab! he wished he might fall on his knees and believe in the miracle, and have the certainty that this holy water had sprung from the rock for the sole purpose of curing suffering humanity! Had he not come to prostrate himself, to implore the Virgin to give him back the faith of a little child? Why, then, was he not praying, did he not suppilcate her to grant him pardon? He felt more and more choked, the candlos dazzled him almost into a vertigo. And ho remembered that for two days, during the wide liberty given to all priests while at Lourdes, he had forgotten to say mass. Ho was in a state of sin. Perhaps it was that welght that crushed him to the ground! Ho became so uncomfortable and uneasy that ho got up and went away. He closed the grat- ing softly, leaving Baron Suire asleep on the bench. Marle had not moved, but still sat in her cart half raised on her elbows, her ccstatic face looking up at the Virgin. Marle, are you all right? Are you cold?"” She did not answer. He felt her hands, and found them warm and soft, but ngitated by a slight trembling. J “It i not the cold that makes you trem- o, 18 it, Marie?” 1.1(““!“ she answered In a voice faint and low as a whisper: “No, no; go away. I am so happy. I am golng to see Her. I feel it. Ah! what de- light!" He pulled the shawl up a little and disap- peared in the darkness, selzed by some in- explicable trouble. Coming out of the grotto's brightness the darkness was black as ink, a veil of darkness Into which he stumbled. As his eyes became accustomed to it, he found that he was near the Gave, %0 he followed the bank, a path shaded by great trees and fresh again with river breezes, He felt quieted now by the shadows and calming molsture. He oniy felt surprised that he was unable to kneel down like Marle, to pray as sho was doing, with the abandonment of her whole soul. What was the obstacls in him? What was the Irresistible rebelllon in him that pre- vented him from grasping that faith, even when he longed to be led thence, desired to ba possessed by it, wished for such abandon? He understood very well that his reason alone protested, and he longed to destroy that voracious reason that was devouring his very life, that prevented him from being happy with the conteytment of Ignorant yet simple souls. Perhaps If e actually saw a miracle ho would have the strength to be- lisve. For example, If Marle were sud- derly to rise and walk before him would ho not prostrate himself as finally overcome? The plcture he drew of Marle saved, Marle cured, moved him so greatly that he stopped, his arms trembled, and he stretched them to the heavens that were dotted all over with stars. Oh, great God! what a mysterious and wondertul night, perfumed and soft, and what joy arose in the hope of eternal health restored, of eternal love, born again in the future, like the springtime! Then walking on ho went to the end of the path. Hut his doubts returned. When a miracle iy pecessary to induce bellef It s because be lief is impossible, God has never given any