Possessing a large fortune, a regal mansion in the Rue de Lille at Paris, and vast estates in Normandy, he came to Lourdes each year, for the three days of the national pilgrimage, influenced solely by his benevolent feelings, for he had no religious zeal and simply observed the rites of the Church because it was customary for noblemen to do so.
And he obstinately declined any high functions.

Resolved to remain a hospitaller, he had that year assumed the duty of bathing the patients, exhausting the strength of his arms, employing his fingers from morning till night in handling rags and re-applying dressings to sores.
"Be careful," he said to Pierre; "take off the stockings very slowly.
Just now, some flesh came away when they were taking off the things of that poor fellow who is being dressed again, over yonder." Then, leaving M.Sabathier for a moment in order to put on the shoes of the unhappy sufferer whom he alluded to, the Marquis found the left shoe wet inside.

Some matter had flowed into the fore part of it, and he had to take the usual medical precautions before putting it on the patient's foot, a task which he performed with extreme care; and so as not to touch the man's leg, into which an ulcer was eating.
"And now," he said to Pierre, as he returned to M.Sabathier, "pull down the drawers at the same time I do, so that we may get them off at one pull." In addition to the patients and the hospitallers selected for duty at the piscinas, the only person in the little dressing-room was a chaplain who kept on repeating "Paters" and "Aves," for not even a momentary pause was allowed in the prayers.

Merely a loose curtain hung before the doorway leading to the open space which the rope enclosed; and the ardent clamorous entreaties of the throng were incessantly wafted into the room, with the piercing shouts of the Capuchin, who ever repeated "Lord, heal our sick! Lord, heal our sick!" A cold light fell from the high windows of the building and constant dampness reigned there, with the mouldy smell like that of a cellar dripping with water.
At last M.Sabathier was stripped, divested of all garments save a little apron which had been fastened about his loins for decency's sake.
"Pray don't plunge me," said he; "let me down into the water by degrees." In point of fact that cold water quite terrified him.

He was still wont to relate that he had experienced such a frightful chilling sensation on the first occasion that he had sworn never to go in again.