But sickness and suffering were no longer of consequence, since they were
all there, seated or stretched with their eyes upon the Grotto. The poor,
fleshless, earthy-looking faces became transfigured, and began to glow
with hope. Anchylosed hands were joined, heavy eyelids found the strength
to rise, exhausted voices revived as the priest shouted the appeals. At
first there was nothing but indistinct stuttering, similar to slight
puffs of air rising, here and there above the multitude. Then the cry
ascended and spread through the crowd itself from one to the other end of
the immense square.
"Mary, conceived without sin, pray for us!" cried the priest in his
thundering voice.
And the sick and the pilgrims repeated louder and louder: "Mary,
conceived without sin, pray for us!"
Then the flow of the litany set in, and continued with increasing speed:
"Most pure Mother, most chaste Mother, thy children are at thy feet!"
"Most pure Mother, most chaste Mother, thy children are at thy feet!"
"Queen of the Angels, say but a word, and our sick shall be healed!"
"Queen of the Angels, say but a word, and our sick shall be healed!"
In the second row of sufferers, near the pulpit, was M. Sabathier, who
had asked to be brought there early, wishing to choose his place like an
old /habitue/ who knew the cosy corners. Moreover, it seemed to him that
it was of paramount importance that he should be as near as possible,
under the very eyes of the Virgin, as though she required to see her
faithful in order not to forget them.
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