once more found himself outside. Again he
wandered through the night, a night which seemed to him utterly void,
darker and stiller than before. The town was lifeless, not a light was
gleaming. There only remained the growl of the Gave, which his accustomed
ears no longer heard. And suddenly, similar to a miraculous apparition,
the Grotto blazed before him, illumining the darkness with its
everlasting brasier, which burnt with a flame of inextinguishable love.
He had returned thither unconsciously, attracted no doubt by thoughts of
Marie. Three o'clock was about to strike, the benches before the Grotto
were emptying, and only some twenty persons remained there, dark,
indistinct forms, kneeling in slumberous ecstasy, wrapped in divine
torpor. It seemed as though the night in progressing had increased the
gloom, and imparted a remote visionary aspect to the Grotto. All faded
away amidst delicious lassitude, sleep reigned supreme over the dim,
far-spreading country side; whilst the voice of the invisible waters
seemed to be merely the breathing of this pure slumber, upon which the
Blessed Virgin, all white with her aureola of tapers, was smiling. And
among the few unconscious women was Madame Maze, still kneeling, with
clasped hands and bowed head, but so indistinct that she seemed to have
melted away amidst her ardent prayer.

Pierre, however, had immediately gone up to Marie. He was shivering, and
fancied that she must be chilled by the early morning air. "I beseech
you, Marie, cover yourself up," said he. "Do you want to suffer still
more?" And thereupon he drew up the shawl which had slipped off her, and
endeavoured to fasten it about her neck. "You are cold, Marie," he added;
"your hands are like ice."

She did not answer, she was still in the same attitude as when he had
left her a couple of hours previously. With her elbows resting on the
edges of her box, she kept herself raised, her soul still lifted towards
the Blessed Virgin and her face transfigured, beaming with a celestial
joy. Her lips moved, though no sound came from them. Perhaps she was
still carrying on some mysterious conversation in the world of
enchantments, dreaming wide awake, as she had been doing ever since he
had placed her there. He spoke to her again, but still she answered not.
At last, however, of her own accord, she murmured in a far-away voice:
"Oh! I am so happy, Pierre! I have seen her; I prayed to her for you, and
she smiled at me, slig