y, he came to Lourdes each
year, for the three days of the national pilgrimage, influenced solely by
his benevolent feelings, for he had no religious zeal and simply observed
the rites of the Church because it was customary for noblemen to do so.
And he obstinately declined any high functions. Resolved to remain a
hospitaller, he had that year assumed the duty of bathing the patients,
exhausting the strength of his arms, employing his fingers from morning
till night in handling rags and re-applying dressings to sores.

"Be careful," he said to Pierre; "take off the stockings very slowly.
Just now, some flesh came away when they were taking off the things of
that poor fellow who is being dressed again, over yonder."

Then, leaving M. Sabathier for a moment in order to put on the shoes of
the unhappy sufferer whom he alluded to, the Marquis found the left shoe
wet inside. Some matter had flowed into the fore part of it, and he had
to take the usual medical precautions before putting it on the patient's
foot, a task which he performed with extreme care; and so as not to touch
the man's leg, into which an ulcer was eating.

"And now," he said to Pierre, as he returned to M. Sabathier, "pull down
the drawers at the same time I do, so that we may get them off at one
pull."

In addition to the patients and the hospitallers selected for duty at the
piscinas, the only person in the little dressing-room was a chaplain who
kept on repeating "Paters" and "Aves," for not even a momentary pause was
allowed in the prayers. Merely a loose curtain hung before the doorway
leading to the open space which the rope enclosed; and the ardent
clamorous entreaties of the throng were incessantly wafted into the room,
with the piercing shouts of the Capuchin, who ever repeated "Lord, heal
our sick! Lord, heal our sick!" A cold light fell from the high windows
of the building and constant dampness reigned there, with the mouldy
smell like that of a cellar dripping with water.

At last M. Sabathier was stripped, divested of all garments save a little
apron which had been fastened about his loins for decency's sake.

"Pray don't plunge me," said he; "let me down into the water by degrees."

In point of fact that cold water quite terrified him. He was still wont
to relate that he had experienced such a frightful chilling sensation on
the first occasion that he had sworn never to go in again. According to
his account, there could be no worse tor