ulsive part of it all was, that in spite of the
_rigor mortis_, the head fell backward into the water, and was submerged
by it. In vain did the hospitallers try to raise it by pulling the
shoulder straps; as they made the attempt, the man almost sank to the
bottom of the bath. And how could he have recovered his breath when his
mouth was full of water, his staring eyes seemingly dying afresh, beneath
that watery veil?

Then, during the three long minutes allowed for the immersion, the two
Fathers of the Assumption and the chaplain, in a paroxysm of desire and
faith, strove to compel the intervention of Heaven, praying in such loud
voices that they seemed to choke.

"Do Thou but look on him, O Lord, and he will live again! Lord! may he
rise at Thy voice to convert the earth! Lord! Thou hast but one word to
say and all Thy people will acclaim Thee!"

At last, as though some vessel had broken in his throat, Father Massias
fell groaning and choking on his elbows, with only enough strength left
him to kiss the flagstones. And from without came the clamour of the
crowd, the ever-repeated cry, which the Capuchin was still leading:
"Lord, heal our sick! Lord, heal our sick!" This appeal seemed so
singular at that moment, that Pierre's sufferings were increased. He
could feel, too, that the Marquis was shuddering beside him. And so the
relief was general when Berthaud, thoroughly annoyed with the whole
business, curtly shouted to the hospitallers: "Take him out! Take him out
at once!"

The body was removed from the bath and laid on the stretcher, looking
like the corpse of a drowned man with its sorry garments clinging to its
limbs. The water was trickling from the hair, and rivulets began falling
on either side, spreading out in pools on the floor. And naturally, dead
as the man had been, dead he remained.

The others had all risen and stood looking at him amidst a distressing
silence. Then, as he was covered up and carried away, Father Fourcade
followed the bier leaning on the shoulder of Father Massias and dragging
his gouty leg, the painful weight of which he had momentarily forgotten.
But he was already recovering his strong serenity, and as a hush fell
upon the crowd outside, he could be heard saying: "My dear brothers, my
dear sisters, God has not been willing to restore him to us, doubtless
because in His infinite goodness He has desired to retain him among His
elect."

And that was all; there was no further quest