Coucou Peter had hardly finished speaking these words when a great tumult was heard within the house, and everybody looked at one another, asking— “What is the matter?—what is the meaning of all this noise?” Now it was old Margredel, the paralytic wife of Nikel Schouler the weaver, who, having been told of the miracles performed by the illustrious philosopher, had come to be cured. The poor woman, seated in her large arm-chair, which she had not quitted for two years, was carried on the shoulders of four pilgrims. A crowd pressed about her, crying— “Courage, Margredel! Courage!” Margredel smiled sadly, for she believed in the prophet, and already felt life stirring within her. On arriving in front of the Three Roses, Mother Jacob, who had seen her coming, opened the outer folding-doors—then that of the great dining-room. Poor Margredel, such as her malady had made her, was then seen, pale, emaciated, raising her thin hands supplicatingly, and crying— “Save me, Mr. Prophet!—deign to cast a look upon your humble servant!” And the crowd pressed into the passage, against the windows, and even into the room, repeating the same words. The confusion was extreme. Seeing this, Coucou Peter wished to make his escape; for he had no confidence in the miracles of the doctrine, and was afraid of being stoned if his master did not cure the poor woman. The illustrious philosopher, however, far from feeling any doubt, had such confidence in his mission, he at once said to himself that the Being of Beings had sent this unfortunate creature for the purpose of enabling him to give to the universe a shining proof of the truths of Anthropo-Zoology. Penetrated with this confidence, he rose and advanced towards Margredel, who watched his approach with wide-open eyes. The crowd made way for him, and Maître Frantz having arrived in front of the paralytic, looked at her with great tenderness, and said to her, in the midst of the most profound silence— “Woman! have you confidence in the Being of Beings—in His infinite goodness?” Raising her eyes to heaven, Margredel replied, in a feeble voice— “God, who sees into all hearts, knows how truly I believe.” “Well, then,” cried Mathéus, firmly, “faith has saved you! Rise up—you are cured!” At these words, which came from his soul, all present trembled to the very marrow of their bones. Margredel felt an extraordinary strength pass into all her limbs; she made an effort—rose—and then fell upon her knees, weeping, at the feet of Mathéus. “I am saved!” she cried; “I am saved!” It was an affecting sight to see this poor woman at the good man’s feet, who, smiling kindly upon her, lifted her up and kissed her on her shrunken cheeks, saying— “That’s well—that’s well; return to your dwelling.” Which she did immediately, crying— “My poor children!—my poor children! I shall no longer be a burden on you!” Maître Frantz then turned towards the company, and said calmly—