no serious accident had ever happened in
the midst of such a fearful scramble. In past times, especially, the most
terrible disorder had prevailed. Father Fourcade complacently recalled
the first pilgrimage which he had organised and led, in 1875; the
terrible endless journey without pillows or mattresses, the patients
exhausted, half dead, with no means of reviving them at hand; and then
the arrival at Lourdes, the train evacuated in confusion, no _materiel_
in readiness, no straps, nor stretchers, nor carts. But now there was a
powerful organisation; a hospital awaited the sick, who were no longer
reduced to lying upon straw in sheds. What a shock for those unhappy
ones! What force of will in the man of faith who led them to the scene of
miracles! The reverend Father smiled gently at the thought of the work
which he had accomplished.

Then, still leaning on the doctor's shoulder, he began to question him:
"How many pilgrims did you have last year?" he asked.

"About two hundred thousand. That is still the average. In the year of
the Coronation of the Virgin the figure rose to five hundred thousand.
But to bring that about an exceptional occasion was needed with a great
effort of propaganda. Such vast masses cannot be collected together every
day."

A pause followed, and then Father Fourcade murmured: "No doubt. Still the
blessing of Heaven attends our endeavours; our work thrives more and
more. We have collected more than two hundred thousand francs in
donations for this journey, and God will be with us, there will be many
cures for you to proclaim to-morrow, I am sure of it." Then, breaking
off, he inquired: "Has not Father Dargeles come here?"

Dr. Bonamy waved his hand as though to say that he did not know. Father
Dargeles was the editor of the "Journal de la Grotte." He belonged to the
Order of the Fathers of the Immaculate Conception whom the Bishop had
installed at Lourdes and who were the absolute masters there; though,
when the Fathers of the Assumption came to the town with the national
pilgrimage from Paris, which crowds of faithful Catholics from Cambrai,
Arras, Chartres, Troyes, Rheims, Sens, Orleans, Blois, and Poitiers
joined, they evinced a kind of affectation in disappearing from the
scene. Their omnipotence was no longer felt either at the Grotto or at
the Basilica; they seemed to surrender every key together with every
responsibility. Their superior, Father Capdebarthe, a tall, peasant-like
man,