great shout, and I could not understand it; but as he came nearer the
words became distinct. 'Neither will they believe--though one rose from
the dead.' As it passed a murmur went up from the city, like the voice
of a great multitude. Then there came sudden silence.

At this moment, for a time--M. le Maire will take my statement for what
it is worth--I became unconscious of what passed further. Whether
weariness overpowered me and I slept, as at the most terrible moment
nature will demand to do, or if I fainted I cannot tell; but for a time
I knew no more. When I came to myself, I was seated on the Cathedral
steps with everything silent around me. From thence I rose up, moved by
a will which was not mine, and was led softly across the Grande Rue,
through the great square, with my face towards the Porte St. Lambert. I
went steadily on without hesitation, never doubting that the gates would
open to me, doubting nothing, though I had never attempted to withdraw
from the city before. When I came to the gate I said not a word, nor any
one to me; but the door rolled slowly open before me, and I was put
forth into the morning light, into the shining of the sun. I have now
said everything I had to say. The message I delivered was said through
me, I can tell no more. Let me rest a little; figure to yourselves, I
have known no night of rest, nor eaten a morsel of bread for--did you
say it was but three days?


M. LE MAIRE RESUMES HIS NARRATIVE.

We re-entered by the door for foot-passengers which is by the side of
the great Porte St. Lambert.

I will not deny that my heart was, as one may say, in my throat. A man