s to me as though my whole body were at last singing it."

Again did Marie give vent to that childish laugh of hers. "It is true,"
said she; "it follows me about everywhere. I heard it the other night
whilst I was asleep. And now it is again taking possession of me, rocking
me, wafting me above the ground." Then she broke off to say: "Here they
come, just across the lawn, in front of us."

The procession had entered one of the long, straight paths; and then,
turning round the lawn by way of the Breton's Cross, it came back by a
parallel path. It took more than a quarter of an hour to execute this
movement, during which the double file of tapers resembled two long
parallel streams of flame. That which ever excited one's admiration was
the ceaseless march of this serpent of fire, whose golden coils crept so
gently over the black earth, winding, stretching into the far distance,
without the immense body ever seeming to end. There must have been some
jostling and scrambling every now and then, for some of the luminous
lines shook and bent as though they were about to break; but order was
soon re-established, and then the slow, regular, gliding movement set in
afresh. There now seemed to be fewer stars in the heavens; it was as
though a milky way had fallen from on high, rolling its glittering dust
of worlds, and transferring the revolutions of the planets from the
empyrean to earth. A bluish light streamed all around; there was naught
but heaven left; the buildings and the trees assumed a visionary aspect
in the mysterious glow of those thousands of tapers, whose number still
and ever increased.

A faint sigh of admiration came from Marie. She was at a loss for words,
and could only repeat "How beautiful it is! _Mon Dieu_! how beautiful it
is! Look, Pierre, is it not beautiful?"

However, since the procession had been going by at so short a distance
from them it had ceased to be a rhythmic march of stars which no human
hand appeared to guide, for amidst the stream of light they could
distinguish the figures of the pilgrims carrying the tapers, and at times
even recognise them as they passed. First they espied La Grivotte, who,
exaggerating her cure, and repeating that she had never felt in better
health, had insisted upon taking part in the ceremony despite the
lateness of the hour; and she still retained her excited demeanour, her
dancing gait in that cool night air, which often made her shiver. Then
the Vignerons appea