"
When they found themselves all three alone in the little room full of
sunshine, it was delicious. Pierre called the servant and told her to
bring them some milk, some chocolate, and cakes, in fact the nicest
things he could think of. And although Marie had already broken her fast,
she ate again, so great an appetite had come upon her since the night
before. They drew the table to the window and made quite a feast amidst
the keen air from the mountains, whilst the hundred bells of Lourdes,
proclaimed with flying peals the glory of that radiant day. They
chattered and laughed, and the young woman told her father the story of
the miracle, with all the oft-repeated details. She related, too, how she
had left her box at the Basilica, and how she had slept twelve hours
without stirring. Then M. de Guersaint on his side wished to relate his
excursion, but got mixed and kept coming back to the miracle. Finally, it
appeared that the Cirque de Gavarnie was something colossal. Only, when
you looked at it from a distance it seemed small, for you lost all sense
of proportion. The gigantic snow-covered tiers of cliffs, the topmost
ridge standing out against the sky with the outlines of some cyclopean
fortress with razed keep and jagged ramparts, the great cascade, whose
ceaseless jet seemed so slow when in reality it must have rushed down
with a noise like thunder, the whole immensity, the forests on right and
left, the torrents and the landslips, looked as though they might have
been held in the palm of one's hand, when one gazed upon them from the
village market-place.
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