n remembered what he had done with it.

"I've lent--that is to say, I've lost it," he answered, and then stood
with his eyes on the ground while the Father reproved him for
heedlessness of health, and so forth.

It is part of the perversity of circumstance that while an incident of
the greatest gravity is occurring, its ridiculous counterpart is usually
taking place by the side of it. When the religious had gathered in the
church it was seen that three of the stalls were vacant--Brother Paul's,
Brother Andrew's, and the Father Minister's. The service had hardly begun
when the bell was heard to ring again, and with a louder clangour than
before, whereupon the religious concluded that Brother Andrew had
awakened from his sleep, and was remembering with remorse his belated
duty.

But it was the Father Minister. That silent and severe person had
oftentimes rebuked the lay brother for his sleepiness, and this morning
he had himself been overcome by the same infirmity. Awakening suddenly a
little after six by the watch that hung by his bed, he had thought, "That
lazy fellow is late again--I'll teach him a lesson." Leaping to his feet
(the monk sleeps in his habit), he had hastened to the bell and rung it
furiously, and then snatched up a taper and hurried down the stairs to
light the candles in the church. When he appeared at the sacristy door
with a lighted taper in his hand and confusion on his face, the brothers
understood everything at a glance, and not even the solemnity of the
service could smother the snufflings of their laughter.

The incident was a trivial one, but it diverted attention for a time from
the fact of Paul's absence, and when the religious went back to the house
and found Brother Andrew returned to his old duty as doorkeeper, the
laughter was renewed, and there was some playful banter.

The monk is so far a child that the least thing happening in the morning
is enough to determine the temper of the day, and as late as the hour for
breakfast the house was still rippling with the humour of the Father
Minister's misadventure. There was one seat vacant in the
refectory--Brother Paul's--and the Superior was the first to observe it.
With a twinkle in his eye, he said:

"I feel like Boy Blue this morning. Two of my stray sheep have come home,
bringing their tails behind them. Will anybody go in search of the
third?"

John Storm rose immediately, but a lay brother was before him, so he sat
down again wit