the beauty of the Lourdes district and of the theatrical effect which
would take place by-and-by when the sun rose and the mountains appeared.

However, there was again a sudden alert, and the station-master ran along
shouting orders. Removing his hand from Dr. Bonamy's shoulder, Father
Fourcade, despite his gouty leg, hastily drew near.

"Oh! it's that Bayonne express which is so late," answered the
station-master in reply to the questions addressed to him. "I should like
some information about it; I'm not at ease."

At this moment the telegraph bells rang out and a porter rushed away into
the darkness swinging a lantern, whilst a distant signal began to work.
Thereupon the station-master resumed: "Ah! this time it's the white
train. Let us hope we shall have time to get the sick people out before
the express passes."

He started off once more and disappeared. Berthaud meanwhile called to
Gerard, who was at the head of a squad of bearers, and they both made
haste to join their men, into whom Baron Suire was already instilling
activity. The bearers flocked to the spot from all sides, and setting
themselves in motion began dragging their little vehicles across the
lines to the platform at which the white train would come in--an unroofed
platform plunged in darkness. A mass of pillows, mattresses, stretchers,
and litters was soon waiting there, whilst Father Fourcade, Dr. Bonamy,
the priests, the gentlemen, and the officer of dragoons in their turn
crossed over in order to witness the removal of the ailing pilgrims. All
that they could as yet see, far away in the depths of the black country,
was the lantern in front of the engine, looking like a red star which
grew larger and larger. Strident whistles pierced the night, then