But each time
they reopened, and again looked at the Virgin with invincible obstinacy.
He was dead, and Marthe had to leave his eyes wide open, steeped in
unbounded ecstasy.
"Ah! it's finished, it's quite finished, madame!" she stuttered.
Two tears then burst from her heavy eyelids and ran down her cheeks;
while Madame Sabathier caught hold of her hand to keep her quiet. There
had been whisperings, and uneasiness was already spreading. But what
course could be adopted? It was impossible to carry off the corpse amidst
such a mob, during the prayers, without incurring the risk of creating a
disastrous effect. The best plan would be to leave it there, pending a
favourable moment. The poor fellow scandalised no one, he did not seem
any more dead now than he had seemed ten minutes previously, and
everybody would think that his flaming eyes were still alive, ardently
appealing to the divine compassion of the Blessed Virgin.
Only a few persons among those around knew the truth. M. Sabathier, quite
scared, had made a questioning sign to his wife, and on being answered by
a prolonged affirmative nod, he had returned to his prayers without any
rebellion, though he could not help turning pale at the thought of the
mysterious almighty power which sent death when life was asked for. The
Vignerons, who were very much interested, leaned forward, and whispered
as though in presence of some street accident, one of those petty
incidents which in Paris the father sometimes related on returning home
from the Ministry, and which sufficed to occupy them all, throughout the
evening.
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