and signed, gave,
as it seemed, a list of the cases to be examined.

"Number fourteen," murmured the monk.

Number fourteen, it appeared, was a case of fractured spine--a
young girl, aged sixteen; a German. The accident had happened
four months before. The notes, signed by half a dozen names,
described the complete paralysis below the waist, with a few
other medical details.

Monsignor looked again at the girl on the other side of the
table, guarded by the brancardiers and a couple of doctors, while
the monk talked to him rapidly in Latin. He saw her closed eyes
and colourless lips.

"This case has attracted a good deal of attention," whispered
the monk. "The Emperor's said to be interested in it, through
one of the ladies of the Court, whose servant the girl was. It's
interesting for two or three reasons. First, the fracture is
complete, and it's marvellous she hasn't died. Then it's been
taken up as a kind of test case by a group of materialists in
Berlin. They've taken it up, because the girl has declared again
and again that she is perfectly certain she will be cured at
Lourdes. She claims to have had a vision of Our Lady, who told
her so. Her father's a freethinker, by the way, and has only
finally allowed her to come so that he can use her as an
argument afterwards."

"Who has examined her?" asked Monsignor sharply.

"She was examined last night on her arrival, and again this
morning. Dr. Meurot, the President here" (he indicated with his
head the doctor who sat three places off, who was putting his
questions rapidly to the two attending physicians)--"Dr. Meurot
examined her himself early this morning. This is just the formal
process before she goes to the grotto. The fracture is complete.
It's between the eleventh and twelfth dorsal vertebrae."

"And you think she'll be cured?" The monk smiled.

"Who can tell?" he said. "We've only had one case before, and the
papers on that are not quite in order, though it's commonly
believed to be genuine."

"But it's possible?"

"Oh, certainly. And her own conviction is absolute. It'll
be interesting."

"You seem to take it pretty easily," murmured the prelate.

"Oh, the facts are established a hundred times over--the facts, I
mean, that cures take place here which are not even approached in
mental laboratories. But---"

He was interrupted by a sudden movement of the brancardiers.

"See, they're removing her," he said. "Now, what'll you do,
Monsignor? W