pale, with an ascetic face, elongated the
more by his discoloured beard. His eyes sparkled, and his large eloquent
mouth protruded passionately.

"Lord, save us, for we perish!" he suddenly cried; and in a fever, which
increased minute by minute, the transported crowd repeated: "Lord, save
us, for we perish!"

Then he opened his arms and again launched forth his flaming cry, as if
he had torn it from his glowing heart: "Lord, if it be Thy will, Thou
canst heal me!"

"Lord, if it be Thy will, Thou canst heal me!"

"Lord, I am not worthy that Thou shouldst enter under my roof, but only
say the word, and I shall be healed!"

"Lord, I am not worthy that Thou shouldst enter under my roof, but only
say the word, and I shall be healed!"

Marthe, Brother Isidore's sister, had now begun to talk in a whisper to
Madame Sabathier, near whom she had at last seated herself. They had
formed an acquaintance at the hospital; and, drawn together by so much
suffering, the servant had familiarly confided to the _bourgeoise_ how
anxious she felt about her brother; for she could plainly see that he had
very little breath left in him. The Blessed Virgin must be quick indeed
if she desired to save him. It was already a miracle that they had been
able to bring him alive as far as the Grotto.

In her resignation, poor, simple creature that she was, she did not weep;
but her heart was so swollen that her infrequent words came faintly from
her lips. Then a flood of past memories suddenly returned to her; and
with her utterance thickened by prolonged silence, she began to relieve
her heart: "We were fourteen at home, at Saint Jacut, near Vannes. He,
big as he was, has always been delicate, and that was why he remained
with our priest, who ended by placing him among the Christian Brothers.
The elder ones took over the property, and, for my part, I preferred
going out to service. Yes, it was a lady who took me with her to Paris,
five years ago already. Ah! what a lot of trouble there is in life!
Everyone has so much trouble!"

"You are quite right, my girl," replied Madame Sabathier, looking the
while at her husband, who was devoutly repeating each of Father Massias's
appeals.

"And then," continued Marthe, "there I learned last month that Isidore,
who had returned from a hot climate where he had been on a mission, had
brought a bad sickness back with him. And, when I ran to see him, he told
me he should die if he did not leave for Lourdes