Many pilgrims were hurrying along the street, all bending their steps towards the Grotto, but they formed a discreet, pensive crowd, with naught of the fair-field, lounging character of the daytime throng.

And, as soon as the Plateau de la Merlasse was reached, the darkness spread out, you entered into a great lake of shadows formed by the stretching lawns and lofty trees, and saw nothing rising on high save the black, tapering spire of the Basilica.
Pierre grew rather anxious on finding that the crowd became more and more compact as he advanced.

Already on reaching the Place du Rosaire it was difficult to take another forward step.

"There is no hope of getting to the Grotto yet awhile," he said.

"The best course would be to turn into one of the pathways behind the pilgrims' shelter-house and wait there." Marie, however, greatly desired to see the procession start.