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of horses. "There is no hurry, however," remarked M. de Guersaint. "My

idea is to go as far as the Place du Marcadal in the old town; for the

servant girl at the hotel told me of a hairdresser there whose brother

lets out conveyances cheaply. Do you mind going so far?"

"I?" replied Pierre. "Go wherever you like, I'll follow you."

"All right--and I'll profit by the opportunity to have a shave."

They were nearing the Place du Rosaire, and found themselves in front of

the lawns stretching to the Gave, when an encounter again stopped them.

Mesdames Desagneaux and Raymonde de Jonquiere were here, chatting gaily

with Gerard de Peyrelongue. Both women wore light-coloured gowns, seaside

dresses as it were, and their white silk parasols shone in the bright

sunlight. They imparted, so to say, a pretty note to the scene--a touch

of society chatter blended with the fresh laughter of youth.

"No, no," Madame Desagneaux was saying, "we certainly can't go and visit

your 'ordinary' like that--at the very moment when all your comrades are

eating."

Gerard, however, with a very gallant air, insisted on their accompanying

him, turning more particularly towards Raymonde, whose somewhat massive

face was that day brightened by the radiant charm of health.

"But it is a very curious sight, I assure you," said the young man, "and

you would be very respectfully received. Trust yourself to me,

mademoiselle. Besides, we should certainly find M. Berthaud there, and he

would be delighted to do you the honours."

Raymonde smiled, her clear eyes plainly saying that she was quite

agreeable. And just then, as Pierre and M. de Guersaint drew near in

order to present their respects to the ladies, they were made acquainted

with the question under discussion. The "ordinary" was a kind of

restaurant or _table d'hote_ which the members of the Hospitality of Our

Lady of Salvation--the bearers, the hospitallers of the Grotto, the

piscinas, and the hospitals--had established among themselves with the

view of taking their meals together at small cost. Many of them were not

rich, for they were recruited among all classes; however, they had

contrived to secure three good meals for the daily payment of three

francs apiece. And in fact they soon had provisions to spare and

distributed them among the poor. Everything was in their own management;

they purchased their own supplies, recruited a cook and a few waiters,

and did not disdain to lend a hand themselves, in order that everything

might be comfortable and orderly.

"It must be very interesting," said M, de Guersaint, when these

explanations had been given him. "Let us go and see it, if we are not in

the way."

Little Madame Desagneaux thereupon gave her consent. "Well, if we are

going in a party," said she, "I am quite willing. But when this gentleman

first proposed to take Raymonde and me, I was afraid that it might not be

quite proper."

Then, as she began to laugh, the others followed her example. She had

accepted M. de Guersaint's arm, and Pierre walked beside her on the other

hand, experiencing a sudden feeling of sympathy for this gay little

woman, who was so full of life and so charming with her fair frizzy hair

and creamy complexion.

Behind them came Raymonde, leaning upon Gerard's arm and talking to him

in the calm, staid voice of a young lady who holds the best principles

despite her air of heedless youth. And since here was the husband whom

she had so often dreamt of, she resolved that she would this time secure

him, make him beyond all question her own. She intoxicated him with the

perfume of health and youth which she diffused, and at the same time

astonished him by her knowledge of housewifely duties and of the manner

in which money may be economised even in the most trifling matters; for

having questioned him with regard to the purchases which he and his

comrades made for their "ordinary," she proceeded to show him that they

might have reduced their expenditure still further.

Meantime M. de Guersaint and Madame Desagneaux were also chatting

together: "You must be fearfully tired, madame," said the architect.

But with a gesture of revolt, and an exclamation of genuine anger, she

replied: "Oh no, indeed! Last night, it is true, fatigue quite overcame

me at the hospital; I sat down and dozed off, and Madame de Jonquiere and

the other ladies were good enough to let me sleep on." At this the others

again began to laugh; but still with the same angry air she continued:

"And so I slept like a log until this morning. It was disgraceful,

especially as I had sworn that I would remain up all night." Then,

merriment gaining upon her in her turn, she suddenly burst into a

sonorous laugh, displaying her beautiful white teeth. "Ah! a pretty nurse

I am, and no mistake! It was poor Madame de Jonquiere who had to remain

on her legs all the time. I tried to coax her to come out with us just

now. But she preferred to take a little rest."

Raymonde, who overheard these words, thereupon raised her voice to say:

"Yes, indeed, my poor mamma could no longer keep on her feet. It was I

who compelled her to lie down, telling her that she could go to sleep

without any uneasiness, for we should get on all right without her--"

So saying, the girl gave Gerard a laughing glance. He even fancied that

he could detect a faint squeeze of the fresh round arm which was resting

on his own, as though, indeed, she had wished to express her happiness at

being alone with him so that they might settle their own affairs without

any interference. This quite delighted him; and he began to explain that

if he had not had _dejeuner_ with his comrades that day, it was because

some friends had invited him to join them at the railway-station

refreshment-room at ten o'clock, and had not given him his liberty until

after the departure of the eleven-thirty train.

"Ah! the rascals!" he suddenly resumed. "Do you hear them, mademoiselle?"

The little party was now nearing its destination, and the uproarious

laughter and chatter of youth rang out from a clump of trees which

concealed the old zinc and plaster building in which the "ordinary" was

installed. Gerard began by taking the visitors into the kitchen, a very

spacious apartment, well fitted up, and containing a huge range and an

immense table, to say nothing of numerous gigantic cauldrons. Here,

moreover, the young man called the attention of his companions to the

circumstance that the cook, a fat, jovial-looking man, had the red cross

pinned on his white jacket, being himself a member of the pilgrimage.

Then, pushing open a door, Gerard invited his friends to enter the common

room.

It was a long apartment containing two rows of plain deal tables; and the

only other articles of furniture were numerous rush-seated tavern chairs,

with an additional table which served as a sideboard. The whitewashed

walls and the flooring of shiny, red tiles looked, however, extremely

clean amidst this intentional bareness, which was similar to that of a

monkish refectory. But, the feature of the place which more particularly

struck you, as you crossed the threshold, was the childish gaiety which

reigned there; for, packed together at the tables, were a hundred and

fifty hospitallers of all ages, eating with splendid appetites, laughing,

applauding, and singing, with their mouths full. A wondrous fraternity

united these men, who had flocked to Lourdes from every province of

France, and who belonged to all classes, and represented every degree of

fortune. Many of them knew nothing of one another, save that they met

here and elbowed one another during three days every year, living

together like brothers, and then going off and remaining in absolute

ignorance of each other during the rest of the twelvemonth. Nothing could

be more charming, however, than to meet again at the next pilgrimage,

united in the same charitable work, and to spend a few days of hard

labour and boyish delight in common once more; for it all became, as it

were, an "outing" of a number of big fellows, let loose under a lovely

sky, and well pleased to be able to enjoy themselves and laugh together.

And even the frugality of the table, with the pride of managing things

themselves, of eating the provisions which they had purchased and cooked,

added to the general good humour.

"You see," explained Gerard, "we are not at all inclined to be sad,

although we have so much hard work to get through. The Hospitality

numbers more than three hundred members, but there are only about one

hundred and fifty here at a time, for we have had to organise two

successive services, so that there may always be some of us on duty at

the Grotto and the hospitals."

The sight of the little party of visitors assembled on the threshold of

the room seemed to have increased the general delight; and Berthaud, the

superintendent of the bearers, who was lunching at the head of one of the

tables, gallantly rose up to receive the ladies.

"But it smells very nice," exclaimed Madame Desagneaux in her giddy way.

"Won't you invite us to come and taste your cookery to-morrow?"

"Oh! we can't ask ladies," replied Berthaud, laughing. "But if you

gentlemen would like to join us to-morrow we should be extremely pleased

to entertain you."

He had at once noticed the good understanding which prevailed between

Gerard and Raymonde, and seemed delighted at it, for he greatly wished

his cousin to make this match. He laughed pleasantly, at the enthusiastic

gaiety which the young girl displayed as she began to question him. "Is

not that the Marquis de Salmon-Roquebert," she asked, "who is sitting

over yonder between those two young men who look like shop assistants?"

"They are, in fact, the sons of a small stationer at Tarbes," replied

Berthaud; "and that is really the Marquis, your neighbour of the Rue de

Lille, the owner of that magnificent mansion, one of the richest and most

noble men of title in France. You see how he is enjoying our mutton

stew!"

It was true, the millionaire Marquis seemed delighted to be able to board

himself for his three francs a day, and to sit down at table in genuine

democratic fashion by the side of petty _bourgeois_ and workmen who would

not have dared to accost him in the street. Was not that chance table

symbolical of social communion, effected by the joint practice of

charity? For his part, the Marquis was the more hungry that day, as he

had bathed over sixty patients, sufferers from all the most abominable

diseases of unhappy humanity, at the piscinas that morning. And the scene

around him seemed like a realisation of the evangelical commonalty; but

doubtless it was so charming and so gay simply because its duration was

limited to three days.

Although M. de Guersaint had but lately risen from table, his curiosity

prompted him to taste the mutton stew, and he pronounced it perfect.

Meantime, Pierre caught sight of Baron Suire, the director of the

Hospitality, walking about between the rows of tables with an air of some

importance, as though he had allotted himself the task of keeping an eye

on everything, even on the manner in which his staff fed itself. The

young priest thereupon remembered the ardent desire which Marie had

expressed to spend the night in front of the Grotto, and it occurred to

him that the Baron might be willing to give the necessary authorisation.

"Certainly," replied the director, who had become quite grave whilst

listening to Pierre, "we do sometimes allow it; but it is always a very

delicate matter! You assure me at all events that this young person is

not consumptive? Well, well, since you say that she so much desires it I

will mention the matter to Father Fourcade and warn Madame de Jonquiere,

so that she may let you take the young lady away."

He was in reality a very good-natured fellow, albeit so fond of assuming

the air of an indispensable man weighed down by the heaviest

responsibilities. In his turn he now detained the visitors, and gave them

full particulars concerning the organisation of the Hospitality. Its

members said prayers together every morning. Two board meetings were held

each day, and were attended by all the heads of departments, as well as

by the reverend Fathers and some of the chaplains. All the hospitallers

took the Sacrament as frequently as possible. And, moreover, there were

many complicated tasks to be attended to, a prodigious rotation of

duties, quite a little world to be governed with a firm hand. The Baron

spoke like a general who each year gains a great victory over the spirit

of the age; and, sending Berthaud back to finish his _dejeuner_, he

insisted on escorting the ladies into the little sanded courtyard, which

was shaded by some fine trees.

"It is very interesting, very interesting," repeated Madame Desagneaux.

"We are greatly obliged to you for your kindness, monsieur."

"Don't mention it, don't mention it, madame," answered the Baron. "It is

I who am pleased at having had an opportunity to show you my little

army."

So far Gerard had not quitted Raymonde's side; but M. de Guersaint and

Pierre were already exchanging glances suggestive of leave-taking, in

order that they might repair by themselves to the Place du Marcadal, when

Madame Desagneaux suddenly remembered that a friend had requested her to

send her a bottle of Lourdes water. And she thereupon asked Gerard how

she was to execute this commission. The young man began to laugh. "Will

you again accept me as a guide?" said he. "And by the way, if these

gentlemen like to come as well, I will show you the place where the

bottles are filled, corked, packed in cases, and then sent off. It is a

curious sight."

M. de Guersaint immediately consented; and all five of them set out