The priest intoned a hymn of thanksgiving, all present answering. Every one felt that He who that morning had given himself in the divine Banquet was invisibly present at the family feast. During the night Mme. Guerrier’s sleep was calm and profound; but in the morning, when she attempted to rise, her limbs refused their service, having fallen back into their helpless state. Was it, then, a dream or an illusion? Was it an effect of the nerves, the imagination, or the will?
The day of her daughter’s First Communion He would not disappoint the mother’s hope and faith.... But afterwards he willed her to understand that, for purposes known to him alone, she was still to bear the weight of her trial. The intolerable headaches returned no more, the faintings ceased, and the sight remained clear and distinct. From this day the resignation of Mme. Guerrier, already very great, became greater still. Her soul as well as her body had received grace from on high. The dimness of vision which had hidden from her the faces of her husband and children had disappeared before the breath of Heaven, and, although she remained infirm and always stretched upon her bed, she was filled with thankfulness and joy. From the beginning of her illness she had never seen her aged parents. She lived at Beaune, in the Côte d’Or, and they at St. Gobain, in the department of Aisne, one hundred and forty leagues away, and, Dr. Biver being then in his eighty-second year, any journey was a difficulty to him. His daughter longed to see him once more, and from April to September this longing continued to increase. In vain the exceeding risk as well as difficulty of travelling in her state was represented to her; she at last persuaded her husband to consent to the imprudent undertaking upon which she had set her heart.
As the physicians had foreseen, the journey very seriously aggravated Mme. Guerrier’s sufferings, which increased to such a degree that, even after some weeks of repose, it was impossible for her to attempt to return to Beaune. The slightest movement often brought on an alarming crisis.
The consequence of such a state, under existing circumstances, was nothing less than the breaking up of the family. The husband, on account of his duties as judge of the peace, was compelled to reside at Beaune, while the condition of his wife rendered it impossible for her to quit St. Gobain. She had asked to have her children with her, and thus, between every two audiences, when possible, M. Guerrier took a journey of one hundred and forty leagues and back, in order to spend a few days with those who made all the happiness of his life.
Nearly a year passed in this way. A moment of improvement was constantly watched for which might permit Mme. Guerrier to travel; but this moment was waited for in vain. On the contrary, the paralysis was beginning to affect the left arm, and the thought of her journey thither made that of the homeward one very alarming.
Last August, M. Guerrier being at St. Gobain in the same painful state of hope deferred, his wife astonished him by saying: “My dear, I wish to make a pilgrimage to Lourdes. I shall be cured there. You must take me.”
M. Guerrier, seriously alarmed at this proposal, energetically withstood an idea which he believed could not be acted upon without a fatal result.
“My dear wife, you are asking impossibilities,” he said. “Think what it has cost us for having, eleven months ago, yielded to your wishes by attempting the journey from Beaune to St. Gobain! Remember that from that time you have not even been able to bear being carried into the garden or drawn a few paces in a sofa-chair. And yet you would venture to travel across France, to a part of the country where we are utter strangers, with the pleasant prospect of being unable to get away again! Do not think of it, dearest! It would be tempting God and running a risk that would be simply madness.”
“I am certain that I shall be cured at Lourdes,” was the answer, “and I wish to go thither.”
It was a struggle of reason against faith and hope, and, both parties being resolute, the struggle lasted for some days. Mme. Guerrier’s faith, however, communicated itself to her two brothers; they advised her husband to grant her wish, and he, weary of contention, at last gave a reluctant consent. Provided with a medical certificate as to the state of his wife’s health, he requested of the minister a few weeks’ leave of absence, in order to take her to the Pyrenees.