"
Then, leaving M. Sabathier for a moment in order to put on the shoes of
the unhappy sufferer whom he alluded to, the Marquis found the left shoe
wet inside. Some matter had flowed into the fore part of it, and he had
to take the usual medical precautions before putting it on the patient's
foot, a task which he performed with extreme care; and so as not to touch
the man's leg, into which an ulcer was eating.
"And now," he said to Pierre, as he returned to M. Sabathier, "pull down
the drawers at the same time I do, so that we may get them off at one
pull."
In addition to the patients and the hospitallers selected for duty at the
piscinas, the only person in the little dressing-room was a chaplain who
kept on repeating "Paters" and "Aves," for not even a momentary pause was
allowed in the prayers. Merely a loose curtain hung before the doorway
leading to the open space which the rope enclosed; and the ardent
clamorous entreaties of the throng were incessantly wafted into the room,
with the piercing shouts of the Capuchin, who ever repeated "Lord, heal
our sick! Lord, heal our sick!" A cold light fell from the high windows
of the building and constant dampness reigned there, with the mouldy
smell like that of a cellar dripping with water.
At last M. Sabathier was stripped, divested of all garments save a little
apron which had been fastened about his loins for decency's sake.
"Pray don't plunge me," said he; "let me down into the water by degrees.
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