carried away by his passion, ever ready to fight and vanquish for the
pure glory of the Blessed Virgin. In his black cloak with its large hood,
and his broad-brimmed flossy hat, he shone resplendently with the
perpetual ardour of battle.

He immediately took from his pocket the silver case containing the Holy
Oils, and the ceremony began whilst the last carriage doors were being
slammed and belated pilgrims were rushing back to the train; the
station-master, meantime, anxiously glancing at the clock, and realising
that it would be necessary for him to grant a few minutes' grace.

"/Credo in unum Deum/," hastily murmured the Father.

"/Amen/," replied Sister Hyacinthe and the other occupants of the
carriage.

Those who had been able to do so, had knelt upon the seats, whilst the
others joined their hands, or repeatedly made the sign of the cross; and
when the murmured prayers were followed by the Litanies of the ritual,
every voice rose, an ardent desire for the remission of the man's sins
and for his physical and spiritual cure winging its flight heavenward
with each successive /Kyrie eleison/. Might his whole life, of which they
knew nought, be forgiven him; might he enter, stranger though he was, in
triumph into the Kingdom of God!

"/Christe, exaudi nos/."

"/Ora pro nobis, sancta Dei Genitrix/."

Father Massias had pulled out the silver needle from which hung a drop of