, for it will be the last time the
rites of the Romish Church will be performed in those Walls. They shall
have all required for the ceremonial."

"Heaven's blessings on you, my lord," said the abbot.

"But first pledge me your sacred word," said the earl, "by the holy
office you once held, and by the saints in whom you trust, that this
concession shall not be made the means of any attempt at flight."

"I swear it," replied the abbot, earnestly.

"And I also swear it," added Father Eastgate.

"Enough," said the earl. "I will give the requisite orders. Notice of
the celebration of mass at midnight shall be proclaimed without the
abbey. Now remove the prisoners."

Upon this the captive ecclesiastics were led forth. Father Eastgate was
taken to a strong room in the lower part of the chapter-house, where all
acts of discipline had been performed by the monks, and where the
knotted lash, the spiked girdle, and the hair shirt had once hung; while
the abbot was conveyed to his old chamber, which had been prepared for
his reception, and there left alone.

CHAPTER V.--THE MIDNIGHT MASS.

Dolefully sounds the All Souls' bell from the tower of the convent
church. The bell is one of five, and has obtained the name because it is
tolled only for those about to pass away from life. Now it rings the
knell of three souls to depart on the morrow. Brightly illumined is the
fane, within which no taper hath gleamed since the old worship ceased,
showing that preparations are made for the last service. The organ, dumb
so long, breathes a low prelude. Sad is it to hear that knell--sad to
view those gloriously-dyed panes--and to think why the one rings and the
other is lighted up.

Word having gone forth of the midnight mass, all the ejected brethren
flock to the abbey. Some have toiled through miry and scarce passable
roads. Others have come down from the hills, and forded deep streams at
the hazard of life, rather than go round by the far-off bridge, and
arrive too late. Others, who conceive themselves in peril from the share
they have taken in the late insurrection, quit their secure retreats,
and expose themselves to capture. It may be a snare laid for them, but
they run the risk. Others, coming from a yet greater distance, beholding
the illuminated church from afar, and catching the sound of the bell
tolling at intervals, hurry on, and reach the gate breathless and
wellnigh exhausted. But no questions are asked. All who p