第 60 页

her mattress, wrapped in a white blanket as in a winding sheet; and

people said it was a half-dead consumptive who had thus been

resuscitated. Then grace fell upon two others in quick succession: a

blind woman suddenly perceived the Grotto in a flame; a dumb woman fell

on both her knees, thanking the Blessed Virgin in a loud, clear voice.

And all in a like way prostrated themselves at the feet of Our Lady of

Lourdes, distracted with joy and gratitude.

But Pierre had not taken his eyes off Marie, and he was overcome with

tender emotion at what he saw. The sufferer's eyes were still

expressionless, but they had dilated, while her poor, pale face, with its

heavy mask, was contracted as if she were suffering frightfully. She did

not speak in her despair; she undoubtedly thought that she was again in

the clutches of her ailment. But all at once, when the Blessed Sacrament

passed by, and she saw the star-like monstrance sparkling in the sun, a

sensation of dizziness came over her. She imagined herself struck by

lightning. Her eyes caught fire from the glare which flashed upon her,

and at last regained their flame of life, shining out like stars. And

under the influence of a wave of blood her face became animated, suffused

with colour, beaming with a smile of joy and health. And, suddenly,

Pierre saw her rise, stand upright in her little car, staggering,

stuttering, and finding in her mind only these caressing words: "Oh, my

friend! Oh, my friend!"

He hurriedly drew near in order to support her. But she drove him back

with a gesture. She was regaining strength, looking so touching, so

beautiful, in the little black woollen gown and slippers which she always

wore; tall and slender, too, and crowned as with a halo of gold by her

beautiful flaxen hair, which was covered with a simple piece of lace. The

whole of her virgin form was quivering as if some powerful fermentation

had regenerated her. First of all, it was her legs that were relieved of

the chains that bound them; and then, while she felt the spirit of

life--the life of woman, wife, and mother--within her, there came a final

agony, an enormous weight that rose to her very throat. Only, this time,

it did not linger there, did not stifle her, but burst from her open

mouth, and flew away in a cry of sublime joy.

"I am cured!--I am cured!"

Then there was an extraordinary sight. The blanket lay at her feet, she

was triumphant, she had a superb, glowing face. And her cry of cure had

resounded with such rapturous delight that the entire crowd was

distracted by it. She had become the sole point of interest, the others

saw none but her, erect, grown so radiant and so divine.

"I am cured!--I am cured!"

Pierre, at the violent shock his heart had received, had begun to weep.

Indeed, tears glistened again in every eye. Amidst exclamations of

gratitude and praise, frantic enthusiasm passed from one to another,

throwing the thousands of pilgrims who pressed forward to see into a

state of violent emotion. Applause broke out, a fury of applause, whose

thunder rolled from one to the other end of the valley.

However, Father Fourcade began waving his arms, and Father Massias was at

last able to make himself heard from the pulpit: "God has visited us, my

dear brothers, my dear sisters!" said he. "_Magnificat anima mea

Dominum_, My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced in

God my Saviour."

And then all the voices, the thousands of voices, began the chant of

adoration and gratitude. The procession found itself at a stand-still.

Abbe Judaine had been able to reach the Grotto with the monstrance, but

he patiently remained there before giving the Benediction. The canopy was

awaiting him outside the railings, surrounded by priests in surplices and

chasubles, all a glitter of white and gold in the rays of the setting

sun.

Marie, however, had knelt down, sobbing; and, whilst the canticle lasted,

a burning prayer of faith and love ascended from her whole being. But the

crowd wanted to see her walk, delighted women called to her, a group

surrounded her, and swept her towards the Verification Office, so that

the miracle might be proved true, as patent as the very light of the sun.

Her box was forgotten, Pierre followed her, while she, stammering and

hesitating, she who for seven years had not used her legs, advanced with

adorable awkwardness, the uneasy, charming gait of a little child making

its first steps; and it was so affecting, so delicious, that the young

priest thought of nothing but the immense happiness of seeing her thus

return to her childhood. Ah! the dear friend of infancy, the dear

tenderness of long ago, so she would at last be the beautiful and

charming woman that she had promised to be as a young girl when, in the

little garden at Neuilly, she had looked so gay and pretty beneath the

tall trees flecked with sunlight!

The crowd continued to applaud her furiously, a huge wave of people

accompanied her; and all remained awaiting her egress, swarming in a

fever before the door, when she had entered the office, whither Pierre

only was admitted with her.

That particular afternoon there were few people at the Verification

Office. The small square room, with its hot wooden walls and rudimentary

furniture, its rush-bottomed chairs, and its two tables of unequal

height, contained, apart from the usual staff only some five or six

doctors, seated and silent. At the tables were the inspector of the

piscinas and two young Abbes making entries in the registers, and

consulting the sets of documents; while Father Dargeles, at one end,

wrote a paragraph for his newspaper. And, as it happened, Doctor Bonamy

was just then examining Elise Rouquet, who, for the third time, had come

to have the increasing cicatrisation of her sore certified.

"Anyhow, gentlemen," exclaimed the doctor, "have you ever seen a lupus

heal in this way so rapidly? I am aware that a new work has appeared on

faith healing in which it is stated that certain sores may have a nervous

origin. Only that is by no means proved in the case of lupus, and I defy

a committee of doctors to assemble and explain mademoiselle's cure by

ordinary means."

He paused, and turning towards Father Dargeles, inquired: "Have you

noted, Father, that the suppuration has completely disappeared, and that

the skin is resuming its natural colour?"

However, he did not wait for the reply, for just then Marie entered,

followed by Pierre; and by her beaming radiance he immediately guessed

what good-fortune was befalling him. She looked superb, admirably fitted

to transport and convert the multitude. He therefore promptly dismissed

Elise Rouquet, inquired the new arrival's name, and asked one of the

young priests to look for her papers. Then, as she slightly staggered, he

wished to seat her in the arm-chair.

"Oh no! oh no!" she exclaimed. "I am so happy to be able to use my legs!"

Pierre, with a glance, had sought for Doctor Chassaigne, whom he was

sorry not to see there. He remained on one side, waiting while they

rummaged in the untidy drawers without being able to place their hands on

the required papers. "Let's see," repeated Dr. Bonamy; "Marie de

Guersaint, Marie de Guersaint. I have certainly seen that name before."

At last Raboin discovered the documents classified under a wrong letter;

and when the doctor had perused the two medical certificates he became

quite enthusiastic. "Here is something very interesting, gentlemen," said

he. "I beg you to listen attentively. This young lady, whom you see

standing here, was afflicted with a very serious lesion of the marrow.

And, if one had the least doubt of it, these two certificates would

suffice to convince the most incredulous, for they are signed by two

doctors of the Paris faculty, whose names are well known to us all."

Then he passed the certificates to the doctors present, who read them,

wagging their heads the while. It was beyond dispute; the medical men who

had drawn up these documents enjoyed the reputation of being honest and

clever practitioners.

"Well, gentlemen, if the diagnosis is not disputed--and it cannot be when

a patient brings us documents of this value--we will now see what change

has taken place in the young lady's condition."

However, before questioning her he turned towards Pierre. "Monsieur

l'Abbe," said he, "you came from Paris with Mademoiselle de Guersaint, I

think. Did you converse with the doctors before your departure?"

The priest shuddered amidst all his great delight.

"I was present at the consultation, monsieur," he replied.

And again the scene rose up before him. He once more saw the two doctors,

so serious and rational, and he once more saw Beauclair smiling, while

his colleagues drew up their certificates, which were identical. And was

he, Pierre, to reduce these certificates to nothing, reveal the other

diagnosis, the one that allowed of the cure being explained

scientifically? The miracle had been predicted, shattered beforehand.

"You will observe, gentlemen," now resumed Dr. Bonamy, "that the presence

of the Abbe gives these proofs additional weight. However, mademoiselle

will now tell us exactly what she felt."

He had leant over Father Dargeles's shoulder to impress upon him that he

must not forget to make Pierre play the part of a witness in the

narrative.

"_Mon Dieu_! gentlemen, how can I tell you?" exclaimed Marie in a halting

voice, broken by her surging happiness. "Since yesterday I had felt

certain that I should be cured. And yet, a little while ago, when the

pins and needles seized me in the legs again, I was afraid it might only

be another attack. For an instant I doubted. Then the feeling stopped.

But it began again as soon as I recommenced praying. Oh! I prayed, I

prayed with all my soul! I ended by surrendering myself like a child.

'Blessed Virgin, Our Lady of Lourdes, do with me as thou wilt,' I said.

But the feeling did not cease, it seemed as if my blood were boiling; a

voice cried to me: 'Rise! Rise!' And I felt the miracle fall on me in a

cracking of all my bones, of all my flesh, as if I had been struck by

lightning."

Pierre, very pale, listened to her. Beauclair had positively told him

that the cure would come like a lightning flash, that under the influence

of extreme excitement a sudden awakening of will so long somnolent would

take place within her.

"It was my legs which the Holy Virgin first of all delivered," she

continued. "I could well feel that the iron bands which bound them were

gliding along my skin like broken chains. Then the weight which still

suffocated me, there, in the left side, began to ascend; and I thought I

was going to die, it hurt me so. But it passed my chest, it passed my

throat, and I felt it there in my mouth, and spat it out violently. It

was all over, I no longer had any pain, it had flown away!"

She had made a gesture expressive of the motion of a night bird beating

its wings, and, lapsing into silence, stood smiling at Pierre, who was

bewildered. Beauclair had told him all that beforehand, using almost the

same words and the same imagery. Point by point, his prognostics were

realised, there was nothing more in the case than natural phenomena,

which had been foreseen.

Raboin, however, had followed Marie's narrative with dilated eyes and the

passion of a pietist of limited intelligence, ever haunted by the idea of

hell. "It was the devil," he cried; "it was the devil that she spat out!"

Doctor Bonamy, who was more wary, made him hold his tongue. And turning

towards the doctors he said: "Gentlemen, you know that we always avoid

pronouncing the big word of miracle here. Only here is a fact, and I am

curious to know how any of you can explain it by natural means. Seven

years ago this young lady was struck with serious paralysis, evidently

due to a lesion of the marrow. And that cannot be denied; the

certificates are there, irrefutable. She could no longer walk, she could

no longer make a movement without a cry of pain, she had reached that

extreme state of exhaustion which precedes but by little an unfortunate

issue. All at once, however, here she rises, walks, laughs, and beams on

us. The paralysis has completely disappeared, no pain remains, she is as

well as you and I. Come, gentlemen, approach, examine her, and tell me

what has happened."

He triumphed. Not one of the doctors spoke. Two, who were doubtless true

Catholics, had shown their approval of his speech by their vigorous nods,

while the others remained motionless, with a constrained air, not caring

to mix themselves up in the business. However, a little thin man, whose

eyes shone behind the glasses he was wearing, ended by rising to take a

closer look at Marie. He caught hold of her hand, examined the pupils of

her eyes, and merely seemed preoccupied by the air of transfiguration

which she wore. Then, in a very courteous manner, without even showing a

desire to discuss the matter, he came back and sat down again.

"The case is beyond science, that is all I can assume," concluded Doctor

Bonamy, victoriously. "I will add that we have no convalescence here;

health is at once restored, full, entire. Observe the young lady. Her

eyes are bright, her colour is rosy, her physiognomy has recovered its

lively gaiety. Without doubt, the healing of the tissues will proceed

somewhat slowly, but one can already say that mademoiselle has been born

again. Is it not so, Monsieur l'Abbe, you who have seen her so

frequently; you no longer recognise her, eh?"

"That's true, that's true," stammered Pierre.

And, in fact, she already appeared strong to him, her cheeks full and

fresh, gaily blooming. But Beauclair had also foreseen this sudden joyful

change, this straightening and resplendency of her invalid frame, when

life should re-enter it, with the will to be cured and be happy. Once