all pealed
the ballad of Bernadette, describing how the little child went one day
by the banks of the Gave, how she heard the thunderous sound, and,
turning, saw the Lady, with all the rest of the sweet story, each stanza
ending with that

Ave, Ave, Ave Maria!

that I think will ring in my ears till I die.

It was an astounding sight to see that crowd and to hear that singing,
and to watch each group as it came past--now girls, now boys, now
stalwart young men, now old veteran pilgrims, now a bent old woman; each
face illumined by the soft paper-shrouded candle, and each mouth singing
to Mary. Hardly one in a thousand of those came to be cured of any
sickness; perhaps not one in five hundred had any friend among the
patients; yet here they were, drawn across miles of hot France, to give,
not to get. Can France, then, be so rotten?

As I dropped off to sleep that night, the last sound of which I was
conscious was, still that cannon-like chorus, coming from the direction
of the square:

Ave, Ave, Ave Maria!
Ave, Ave, Ave Maria!

FOOTNOTES:

[2] _La Voix de Lourdes_, a semi-official paper, gives the following
account of her, in its issue of the 23rd: "... Marguerite Vandenabeele,
10 ans, de Nieurlet, hameau de Hedezeele, (Nord), est arrivee avec un
des trains de Paris, portant un certificat du Docteur Dantois, date de
St. Momeleu (Nord) le 25 mai, 1908, la declarant atteinte _d'atrophie de
la jambe gauche_ avec _pied-bot equin_. Elle ne marchait que tres
difficilement et tres peniblement. A la sortie de la piscine, vendredi
soir, elle a pu marcher facilement. Amenee au Bureau Medical, on l'a
debarrassee de l'appareil dans lequel etait enferme son pied. Depuis,
elle marche bien, et parait guerie."

[3] This was written in the autumn of the year 1908, in which this visit
of mine took place.

[4] Since 1888 the registered cures are estimated as follows: '88, 57;
'89, 44; '90, 80; '91, 53; '92, 99; '93, 91; '94, 127; '95, 163; '96,
145; '97, 163; '98, 243; '99, 174; 1900, 160; '01, 171; '02, 164; '03,
161; '04, 140; '05, 157; '06, 148; '07, 109.

[5] My notes are rather illegible at this point, but I make no doubt
that this was Marie Cools.

IV.

I awoke to that singing again, in my room above the door of the hotel;
and went down presently to say my Mass in the Rosary Church, where, by
the kindness of the Scottish priest of whom I have spoken, an altar had
been reserved for me. The Rosary