At this the Commander became angry. "My leg! The Virgin can do nothing to
it! I'm quite at my ease. May death come and may it all be over forever!
When the time comes to die you turn your face to the wall and you
die--it's simple enough."

The old priest interrupted him, however. Pointing to Marie, who was lying
on her box listening to them, he exclaimed: "You tell all our sick to go
home and die--even mademoiselle, eh? She who is full of youth and wishes
to live."

Marie's eyes were wide open, burning with the ardent desire which she
felt to /be/, to enjoy her share of the vast world; and the Commander,
who had drawn near, gazed upon her, suddenly seized with deep emotion
which made his voice tremble. "If mademoiselle gets well," he said, "I
will wish her another miracle, that she be happy."

Then he went off, dragging his foot and tapping the flagstones with the
ferrule of his stout stick as he continued wending his way, like an angry
philosopher among the suffering pilgrims.

Little by little, the platform was at last cleared. Madame Vetu and La
Grivotte were carried away, and Gerard removed M. Sabathier in a little
cart, whilst Baron Suire and Berthaud already began giving orders for the
green train, which would be the next one to arrive. Of all the ailing
pilgrims the only one now remaining at the station was Marie, of whom
Pierre jealously took charge. He had already dragged her into the
courtyard when he noticed that M. de Guersaint had disappeared; but a
moment later he perceived him conversing with the Abbe des Hermoises,
whose acquaintance he had just made. Their admiration of the beauties of
nature had brought them together. The daylight had now appeared, and the