The Three Cities Trilogy: Lourdes, Complete

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Émile Zola. The Three Cities Trilogy: Lourdes, Complete

PREFACE

THE FIRST DAY

I. PILGRIMS AND PATIENTS

II. PIERRE AND MARIE

III. POITIERS

IV. MIRACLES

V. BERNADETTE

THE SECOND DAY

I. THE TRAIN ARRIVES

II. HOSPITAL AND GROTTO

III. FOUNTAIN AND PISCINA

IV. VERIFICATION

V. BERNADETTE’S TRIALS

THE THIRD DAY

I. BED AND BOARD

II. THE “ORDINARY.”

III. THE NIGHT PROCESSION

IV. THE VIGIL

V. THE TWO VICTIMS

THE FOURTH DAY

I. THE BITTERNESS OP DEATH

II. THE SERVICE AT THE GROTTO

III. MARIE’S CURE

IV. TRIUMPH – DESPAIR

V. CRADLE AND GRAVE

THE FIFTH DAY

I. EGOTISM AND LOVE

II. PLEASANT HOURS

III. DEPARTURE

IV. MARIE’S VOW

V. THE DEATH OP BERNADETTE – THE NEW RELIGION

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THE pilgrims and patients, closely packed on the hard seats of a third-class carriage, were just finishing the “Ave maris Stella,” which they had begun to chant on leaving the terminus of the Orleans line, when Marie, slightly raised on her couch of misery and restless with feverish impatience, caught sight of the Paris fortifications through the window of the moving train.

“Ah, the fortifications!” she exclaimed, in a tone which was joyous despite her suffering. “Here we are, out of Paris; we are off at last!”

.....

The meal continued, enlivened by the constant laughter of Madame Desagneaux and Raymonde. The latter was very animated, and her face, which was already growing somewhat yellow through long pining for a suitor, again assumed the rosy bloom of twenty. They had to eat very fast, for only ten minutes now remained to them. On all sides one heard the growing tumult of customers who feared that they would not have time to take their coffee.

All at once, however, Pierre made his appearance; a fit of stifling had again come over La Grivotte; and Madame de Jonquiere hastily finished her artichoke and returned to her compartment, after kissing her daughter, who wished her “good-night” in a facetious way. The priest, however, had made a movement of surprise on perceiving Madame Volmar with the red cross of the lady-hospitallers on her black bodice. He knew her, for he still called at long intervals on old Madame Volmar, the diamond-merchant’s mother, who had been one of his own mother’s friends. She was the most terrible woman in the world, religious beyond all reason, so harsh and stern, moreover, as to close the very window shutters in order to prevent her daughter-in-law from looking into the street. And he knew the young woman’s story, how she had been imprisoned on the very morrow of her marriage, shut up between her mother-in-law, who tyrannised over her, and her husband, a repulsively ugly monster who went so far as to beat her, mad as he was with jealousy, although he himself kept mistresses. The unhappy woman was not allowed out of the house excepting it were to go to mass. And one day, at La Trinite, Pierre had surprised her secret, on seeing her behind the church exchanging a few hasty words with a well-groomed, distinguished-looking man.

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