ved Madame Maze, standing
somewhat apart from the others, and humbling herself in prayer; whilst
Madame Vincent, who had fallen on her knees, still holding her little
Rose in her arms, presented the child to the Virgin with ardent entreaty,
the distracted gesture of a mother soliciting compassion from the mother
of divine grace. And around this reserved space was the ever-growing
throng of pilgrims, the pressing, jostling mob which gradually stretched
to the parapet overlooking the Gave.

"O Virgin most merciful," continued Marie in an undertone, "Virgin most
faithful, Virgin conceived without sin!"

Then, almost fainting, she spoke no more, but with her lips still moving,
as though in silent prayer, gazed distractedly at Pierre. He thought that
she wished to speak to him and leant forward: "Shall I remain here at
your disposal to take you to the piscina by-and-by?" he asked.

But as soon as she understood him she shook her head. And then in a
feverish way she said: "No, no, I don't want to be bathed this morning.
It seems to me that one must be truly worthy, truly pure, truly holy
before seeking the miracle! I want to spend the whole morning in
imploring it with joined hands; I want to pray, to pray with all my
strength and all my soul--" She was stifling, and paused. Then she added:
"Don't come to take me back to the hospital till eleven o'clock. I will
not let them take me from here till then."

However, Pierre did not go away, but remained near her. For a moment, he
even fell upon his knees; he also would have liked to pray with the same
burning faith, to beg of God the cure of that poor sick child, whom he
loved with such fraternal affection. But since he had reached the Grotto
he had felt a singular sensation invading him, a covert revolt, as it
were, which hampered the pious flight of his prayer. He wished to
believe; he had spent the whole night hoping that belief would once more
blossom in his soul, like some lovely flower of innocence and candour, as
soon as he should have knelt upon the soil of that land of miracle. And
yet he only experienced discomfort and anxiety in presence of the
theatrical scene before him, that pale stiff statue in the false light of
the tapers, with the chaplet shop full of jostling customers on the one
hand, and the large stone pulpit whence a Father of the Assumption was
shouting "Aves" on the other. Had his soul become utterly withered then?
Could no divine dew again impregnate