At times a thick voice full of anguish, and at others
a shrill and piercing voice, would arise. The Father's, which was an
imperious one, was now at last breaking through sheer emotion.
"Lord Jesus, heal our sick! Lord Jesus, heal our sick!"
The rumour of Marie's wondrous cure, of the miracle whose fame would
speedily fill all Christendom, had already spread from one to the other
end of Lourdes; and from this had come the increased vertigo of the
multitude, the attack of contagious delirium which now caused it to whirl
and rush toward the Blessed Sacrament like the resistless flux of a
rising tide. One and all yielded to the desire of beholding the Sacrament
and touching it, of being cured and becoming happy. The Divinity was
passing; and now it was not merely a question of ailing beings glowing
with a desire for life, but a longing for happiness which consumed all
present and raised them up with bleeding, open hearts and eager hands.
Berthaud, who feared the excesses of this religious adoration, had
decided to accompany his men.
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