ted to the heart-rending contemplation of their own dear invalid;
whilst Abbe Judaine, informed by M. Vigneron, knelt down, and in a low,
agitated voice recited the prayers for the dead. Was he not a Saint, that
missionary who had returned from a deadly climate, with a mortal wound in
his side, to die there, beneath the smiling gaze of the Blessed Virgin?
And Madame Maze, who also knew what had happened, suddenly felt a taste
for death, and resolved that she would implore Heaven to suppress her
also, in unobtrusive fashion, if it would not listen to her prayer and
give her back her husband.

But the cry of Father Massias rose into a still higher key, burst forth
with a strength of terrible despair, with a rending like that of a sob:
"Jesus, son of David, I am perishing, save me!"

And the crowd sobbed after him in unison "Jesus, son of David, I am
perishing, save me!"

Then, in quick succession, and in higher and higher keys, the appeals
went on proclaiming the intolerable misery of the world:

"Jesus, son of David, take pity on Thy sick children!"

"Jesus, son of David, take pity on Thy sick children!"

"Jesus, son of David, come, heal them, that they may live!"

"Jesus, son of David, come, heal them, that they may live!"

It was delirium. At the foot of the pulpit Father Fourcade, succumbing to
the extraordinary passion which overflowed from all hearts, had likewise
raised his arms, and was shouting the appeals in his thundering voice as
though to compel the intervention of Heaven. And the exaltation was still
increasing beneath this blast of desire, whose powerful breath bowed
every head in turn, spreading even to the young women who, in a spirit of
mere curiosity, sat watching the scene from the parapet of the Gave; for
these also turned pale under their sunshades.

Miserable humanity was clamouring from the depths of its abyss of
suffering, and the clamour swept along, sending a shudder down every
spine, for one and all were plunged in agony, refusing to die, longing to
compel God to grant them eternal life. Ah! life, life! that was what all
those unfortunates, who had come so far, amid so many obstacles,
wanted--that was the one boon they asked for in their wild desire to live
it over again, to live it always! O Lord, whatever our misery, whatever
the torment of our life may be, cure us, grant that we may begin to live
again and suffer once more what we have suffered already. However unhappy
we may be, to