we going to stop here?" asked M. de Guersaint, who speedily got
tired of remaining in any one spot. "We see nothing but the same thing
over and over again."

Marie, who had informed herself by listening to what was said in the
crowd, thereupon exclaimed: "You were quite right, Pierre; it would be
much better to go back yonder under the trees. I so much wish to see
everything."

"Yes, certainly; we will seek a spot whence you may see it all," replied
the priest. "The only difficulty lies in getting away from here."

Indeed, they were now inclosed within the mob of sight-seers; and, in
order to secure a passage, Pierre with stubborn perseverance had to keep
on begging a little room for a suffering girl.

M. de Guersaint meantime brought up the rear, screening the little
conveyance so that it might not be upset by the jostling; whilst Marie
turned her head, still endeavouring to see the sheet of flame spread out
before the Grotto, that lake of little sparkling waves which never seemed
to diminish, although the procession continued to flow from it without a
pause.

At last they all three found themselves out of the crowd, near one of the
arches, on a deserted spot where they were able to breathe for a moment.
They now heard nothing but the distant canticle with its besetting
refrain, and they only saw the reflection of the tapers, hovering like a
luminous cloud in the neighbourhood of the Basilica.

"The best plan would be to climb to the Calvary," said M. de Guersaint.
"The servant at the hotel told me so this morning. From up there, it
seems, the scene is fairy-like."

But they could not think of making the ascent. Pierre at once enumerated
the difficulties. "How could we hoist ourselves to such a height with
Marie's conveyance?" he asked. "Besides, we should have to come down
again, and that would be dangerous work in the darkness amidst all the
scrambling."

Marie herself preferred to remain under the trees in the gardens, where
it was very mild. So they started off, and reached the esplanade in front
of the great crowned statue of the Virgin. It was illuminated by means of
blue and yellow globes which encompassed it with a gaudy splendour; and
despite all his piety M. de Guersaint could not help finding these
decorations in execrable taste.

"There!" exclaimed Marie, "a good place would be near those shrubs
yonder."

She was pointing to a shrubbery near the pilgrims' shelter-house; and the
spot was indeed