do you think of the resplendent Grotto, of the triumphant Basilica,
of the town built, of the world created, the crowds that flock to
Lourdes! And if Bernadette was only hallucinated, only an idiot, would
not the outcome be more astonishing, more inexplicable still? What! An
idiot's dream would have sufficed to stir up nations like this! No! no!
The Divine breath which alone can explain prodigies passed here."

Pierre was on the point of hastily replying "Yes!" It was true, a breath
had passed there, the sob of sorrow, the inextinguishable yearning
towards the Infinite of hope. If the dream of a suffering child had
sufficed to attract multitudes, to bring about a rain of millions and
raise a new city from the soil, was it not because this dream in a
measure appeased the hunger of poor mankind, its insatiable need of being
deceived and consoled? She had once more opened the Unknown, doubtless at
a favourable moment both socially and historically; and the crowds had
rushed towards it. Oh! to take refuge in mystery, when reality is so
hard, to abandon oneself to the miraculous, since cruel nature seems
merely one long injustice! But although you may organise the Unknown,
reduce it to dogmas, make revealed religions of it, there is never
anything at the bottom of it beyond the appeal of suffering, the cry of
life, demanding health, joy, and fraternal happiness, and ready to accept
them in another world if they cannot be obtained on earth. What use is it
to believe in dogmas? Does it not suffice to weep and love?

Pierre, however, did not discuss the question. He withheld the answer
that was on his lips, convinced, moreover, that the eternal need of the
supernatural would cause eternal faith to abide among sorrowing mankind.
The miraculous, which could not be verified, must be a food necessary to
human despair. Besides, had he not vowed in all charity that he would not
wound anyone with his doubts?

"What a prodigy, isn't it?" repeated the doctor.

"Certainly," Pierre ended by answering. "The whole human drama has been
played, all the unknown forces have acted in this poor room, so damp and
dark."

They remained there a few minutes more in silence; they walked round the
walls, raised their eyes toward the smoky ceiling, and cast a final
glance at the narrow, greenish yard. Truly it was a heart-rending sight,
this poverty of the cobweb level, with its dirty old barrels, its
worn-out tools, its refuse of all kinds rotting