Produced by Dagny [dagnypg@yahoo.com]
and David Widger [widger@cecomet.net]
AGAIN that night Pierre, at the Hotel of the Apparitions, was unable toobtain a wink of sleep. After calling at the hospital to inquire afterMarie, who, since her return from the procession, had been soundlyenjoying the delicious, restoring sleep of a child, he had gone to bedhimself feeling anxious at the prolonged absence of M. de Guersaint. Hehad expected him at latest at dinner-time, but probably some mischancehad detained him at Gavarnie; and he thought how disappointed Marie wouldbe if her father were not there to embrace her the first thing in themorning. With a man like M. de Guersaint, so pleasantly heedless and sohare-brained, everything was possible, every fear might be realised.
Perhaps this anxiety had at first sufficed to keep Pierre awake in spiteof his great fatigue; but afterwards the nocturnal noises of the hotelhad really assumed unbearable proportions. The morrow, Tuesday, was theday of departure, the last day which the national pilgrimage would spendat Lourdes, and the pilgrims no doubt were making the most of their time,coming from the Grotto and returning thither in the middle of the night,endeavouring as it were to force the grace of Heaven by their commotion,and apparently never feeling the slightest need of repose. The doorsslammed, the floors shook, the entire building vibrated beneath thedisorderly gallop of a crowd. Never before had the walls reverberatedwith such obstinate coughs, such thick, husky voices. Thus Pierre, a preyto insomnia, tossed about on his bed and continually rose up, beset withthe idea that the noise he heard must have been made by M. de Guersaintwho had returned. For some minutes he would listen feverishly; but hecould only hear the extraordinary sounds of the passage, amid which hecould distinguish nothing precisely. Was it the priest, the mother andher three daughters, or the old married couple on his left, who werefighting with the furniture? or was it rather the larger family, or thesingle gentleman, or the young single woman on his right, whom someincomprehensible occurrences were leading into adventures? At one momenthe jumped from his bed, wishing to explore his absent friend's emptyroom, as he felt certain that some deeds of violence were taking place init. But although he listened very attentively when he got there, the onlysound he could distinguish was the tender caressing murmur of two voices.Then a sudden recollection of Madame Volmar came to him, and he returnedshuddering to bed.
At length, when it was broad daylight and Pierre had just fallen asleep,a loud knocking at his door awoke him with a start. This time there couldbe no mistake, a loud voice broken by sobs was calling "Monsieur l'Abbe!Monsieur l'Abbe! for Heaven's sake wake up!"
Surely it must be M. de Guersaint who had been brought back dead, atleast. Quite scared, Pierre ran and opened the door, in his night-shirt,and found himself in the presence of his neighbour, M. Vigneron.
"Oh! for Heaven's sake, Monsieur l'Abbe,