ion of the dead man. Patients
were again being brought into the dressing-room, the two other baths were
already occupied. And now little Gustave, who had watched that terrible
scene with his keen inquisitive eyes, evincing no sign of terror,
finished undressing himself. His wretched body, the body of a scrofulous
child, appeared with its prominent ribs and projecting spine, its limbs
so thin that they looked like mere walking-sticks. Especially was this
the case as regards the left one, which was withered, wasted to the bone;
and he also had two sores, one on the hip, and the other in the loins,
the last a terrible one, the skin being eaten away so that you distinctly
saw the raw flesh. Yet he smiled, rendered so precocious by his
sufferings that, although but fifteen years old and looking no more than
ten, he seemed to be endowed with the reason and philosophy of a grown
man.

The Marquis de Salmon-Roquebert, who had taken him gently in his arms,
refused Pierre's offer of service: "Thanks, but he weighs no more than a
bird. And don't be frightened, my dear little fellow. I will do it
gently."

"Oh, I am not afraid of cold water, monsieur," replied the boy; "you may
duck me."

Then he was lowered into the bath in which the dead man had been dipped.
Madame Vigneron and Madame Chaise, who were not allowed to enter, had
remained at the door on their knees, whilst the father, M. Vigneron, who
was admitted into the dressing-room, went on making the sign of the
cross.

Finding that his services were no longer required, Pierre now departed.
The sudden idea that three o'clock must have long since struck and that
Marie must be waiting for him made him hasten his steps. However, whilst
he was endeavouring to pierce the crowd, he saw the girl arrive in her
little conveyance, dragged along by Gerard, who had not ceased
transporting sufferers to the piscina. She had become impatient, suddenly
filled with a conviction that she was at last in a frame of mind to find
grace. And at sight of Pierre she reproached him, saying, "What, my
friend, did you forget me?"

He could find no answer, but watched her as she was taken into the
piscina reserved for women, and then, in mortal sorrow, fell upon his
knees. It was there that he would wait for her, humbly kneeling, in order
that he might take her back to the Grotto, cured without doubt and
singing a hymn of praise. Since she was certain of it, would she not
assuredly be cured? Howeve