, auditum,
odoratum, gustum, tactum, deliquisti_."*

* Through this holy unction and His most tender mercy may the
Lord pardon thee whatever sins thou hast committed by thy sight,
hearing, etc.

The remainder of the ceremony was lost amid the hurry and scramble of the
departure. Father Massias scarcely had time to wipe off the oil with the
little piece of cotton-wool which Sister Hyacinthe held in readiness,
before he had to leave the compartment and get into his own as fast as
possible, setting the case containing the Holy Oils in order as he did
so, whilst the pilgrims finished repeating the final prayer.

"We cannot wait any longer! It is impossible!" repeated the
station-master as he bustled about. "Come, come, make haste everybody!"

At last then they were about to resume their journey. Everybody sat down,
returned to his or her corner again. Madame de Jonquiere, however, had
changed her place, in order to be nearer La Grivotte, whose condition
still worried her, and she was now seated in front of M. Sabathier, who
remained waiting with silent resignation. Moreover, Sister Hyacinthe had
not returned to her compartment, having decided to remain near the
unknown man so that she might watch over him and help him. By following
this course, too, she was able to minister to Brother Isidore, whose
sufferings his sister Marthe was at a loss to assuage. And Marie, turning
pale, felt the jolting of the train in her ailing flesh, even before it
had resumed its journey under the heavy sun, rolling onward once more
with its load of sufferers stifling in the pestilential atmosphere of the
over-heated carriages.

At last a loud whistle resounded, the engine puffed, and Sister Hyacinthe
rose up to say: The _Magnificat_, my children!

IV. MIRACLES

JUST as the train was beginning to move, the door of the compartment in
which Pierre and Marie found themselves was opened and a porter pushed a
girl of fourteen inside, saying: "There's a seat here--make haste!"

The others were already pulling long faces and were about to protest,
when Sister Hyacinthe exclaimed: "What, is it you, Sophie? So you are
going back to see the Blessed Virgin who cured you last year!"

And at the same time Madame de Jonquiere remarked: "Ah! Sophie, my little
friend, I am very pleased to see that you are grateful."

"Why, yes, Sister; why, yes, madame," answered the girl, in a pretty way.

The carriage door had already been closed a