to diminish, although the procession continued to flow from it without a
pause.

At last they all three found themselves out of the crowd, near one of the
arches, on a deserted spot where they were able to breathe for a moment.
They now heard nothing but the distant canticle with its besetting
refrain, and they only saw the reflection of the tapers, hovering like a
luminous cloud in the neighbourhood of the Basilica.

"The best plan would be to climb to the Calvary," said M. de Guersaint.
"The servant at the hotel told me so this morning. From up there, it
seems, the scene is fairy-like."

But they could not think of making the ascent. Pierre at once enumerated
the difficulties. "How could we hoist ourselves to such a height with
Marie's conveyance?" he asked. "Besides, we should have to come down
again, and that would be dangerous work in the darkness amidst all the
scrambling."

Marie herself preferred to remain under the trees in the gardens, where
it was very mild. So they started off, and reached the esplanade in front
of the great crowned statue of the Virgin. It was illuminated by means of
blue and yellow globes which encompassed it with a gaudy splendour; and
despite all his piety M. de Guersaint could not help finding these
decorations in execrable taste.

"There!" exclaimed Marie, "a good place would be near those shrubs
yonder."

She was pointing to a shrubbery near the pilgrims' shelter-house; and the