On leaving the basilica Mme. Guerrier descended with ease the twenty-five steps of the stone flight at the foot of which the carriage was waiting.
The coachman gazed at Mme. Guerrier in amazement and remained motionless, until, on a sign from her husband, he got down and opened the door.
“No,” said the cured lady; “I wish to go to the grotto.”
“Certainly; we will drive there.”
“Not at all. Your arm is enough. I will walk.”
“She is cured,” said the Abbé Martignon; “let her do as she wishes.”
So, all together, they walked to the grotto.
Here Mme. Guerrier made her second act of thanksgiving before the image of Mary Immaculate. Then, after drinking of the miraculous spring, she went to the piscina, in which, though cured, she wished to bathe. After this immersion she lost entirely a certain stiffness which had remained, and which had somewhat impeded the free play of the articulations.
She made a point of returning on foot to the town, the carriage preceding at a slow pace; but about half-way the Abbé Martignon said, smiling: “Madame, you are cured, but I am not; and I must own that I can go no further. In charity to me let us get into the carriage.”
“Willingly,” she replied, and, hastening to it, she sprang lightly in.