But no! ah!
how many stupid and wicked people there are!"
"Have you spoken to the station-master?" asked Pierre.
"The station-master! Oh! he's somewhere about, in the midst of the
scramble. They were never able to find him. How could you have anything
done properly in such a bear-garden? Still, I mean to rout him out, and
give him a bit of my mind!"
Then, perceiving his wife standing beside him motionless, glued as it
were to the platform, he cried: "What are you doing there? Get in, so
that we may pass you the youngster and the parcels!"
With these words he pushed her in, and threw the parcels after her,
whilst the young priest took Gustave in his arms. The poor little fellow,
who was as light as a bird, seemingly thinner than before, consumed by
sores, and so full of pain, raised a faint cry. "Oh, my dear child, have
I hurt you?" asked Pierre.
"No, no, Monsieur l'Abbe, but I've been moved about so much to-day, and
I'm very tired this afternoon." As he spoke, he smiled with his usual
intelligent and mournful expression, and then, sinking back into his
corner, closed his eyes, exhausted, indeed done for, by this fearful trip
to Lourdes.
"As you can very well understand," now resumed M. Vigneron, "it by no
means amuses me to stay here, kicking my heels, while my wife and my son
go back to Paris without me.
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