There followed Sister Marguérite Emilie, an Assumptionist, aged
thirty-nine, a brisk, brown-faced, tall woman, in her religious habit.
Her malady had been _mal de Pott_, a severe spinal affliction,
accompanied by abscesses and other horrors. She, too, appeared in the
best of health.

We began then to hear a doctor give news of a certain Irish Religious,
cured that morning in the _piscines_; but we were interrupted by the
entry of Emile Lansman, a solid artisan of twenty-five who came in
walking cheerfully, carrying a crutch and a stick which he no longer
needed. Paralysis of the right leg and traumatism of the spine had been
his, up to that day. Now he carried his crutch.

He was followed by another man whose name I did not catch, and on whose
case I wrote so rapidly that I am scarcely able to read all my notes.
His story, in brief, was as follows. He had had some while ago a severe
accident, which involved a kind of appalling disembowelment. For the
last year or two he had had gastric troubles of all kinds, including
complete loss of appetite. His certificate showed too, that he suffered
from partial paralysis (he himself showed us how little he had been able
to open his fingers), and anæsthesia of the right arm. (I looked over
Dr. Deschamps' shoulder and read on the paper the words _lésion
incurable_). It was certified further that he was incapable of manual
work. Then he described to us how yesterday in the _piscine_, upon
coming out of the bath, he had been aware of a curious sensation of
warmth in the stomach; he had then found that, for the first time for
many months, he wished for food; he was given it, and he enjoyed it. He
moved his fingers in a normal manner, raised his arm and let it fall.