though black night still reigned around them. There came first the
"Pater," and then the "Ave," the "Credo," and the supplication to God to
grant them the happiness of a glorious day.

"O God, vouchsafe me sufficient strength that I may avoid all that is
evil, do all that is good, and suffer uncomplainingly every pain."

And now there was to be no further stoppage until they reached Lourdes.
Barely three more quarters of an hour, and Lourdes, with all its vast
hopes, would blaze forth in the midst of that night, so long and cruel.
Their painful awakening was enfevered by the thought; a final agitation
arose amidst the morning discomfort, as the abominable sufferings began
afresh.

Sister Hyacinthe, however, was especially anxious about the strange man,
whose sweat-covered face she had been continually wiping. He had so far
managed to keep alive, she watching him without a pause, never having
once closed her eyes, but unremittingly listening to his faint breathing
with the stubborn desire to take him to the holy Grotto before he died.

All at once, however, she felt frightened; and addressing Madame de
Jonquiere, she hastily exclaimed, "Pray pass me the vinegar bottle at
once--I can no longer hear him breathe."

For an instant, indeed, the man's faint breathing had ceased. His eyes
were still closed, his lips parted; he could not have been paler, he had
an ashen hue, and was cold. And the carriage was rolling along with its
ceaseless rattle of coupling-irons; the speed of the train seemed even to
have increased.

"I will rub his temples," resumed Sister Hyacinthe. "Help me, do!"

But, at a more violent jolt of the train, the man suddenly fell from the
seat, face downward.

"Ah! _mon Dieu_, help me, pick him up!"

They picked him up, and found him dead. And they had to seat him in his
corner again, with his back resting against the woodwork. He remained
there erect, his torso stiffened, and his head wagging slightly at each
successive jolt. Thus the train continued carrying him along, with the
same thundering noise of wheels, while the engine, well pleased, no
doubt, to be reaching its destination, began whistling shrilly, giving
vent to quite a flourish of delirious joy as it sped through the calm
night.

And then came the last and seemingly endless half-hour of the journey, in
company with that wretched corpse. Two big tears had rolled down Sister
Hyacinthe's cheeks, and with her hands joined she had begun