late.

March was half over now; and still no sign had come from the world
outside. There were no guests either to bring tidings, for the priory
was a marked place and it was well not to show or receive kindliness in
its regard.

Within, the tension of nerves grew acute. Chris was conscious of a
deepening exaltation, but it was backed by horror. He found himself now
smiling with an irrepressible internal joy, now twitching with
apprehension, starting at sudden noises, and terrified at loneliness.
Dom Anthony too grew graver still; and would take his arm sometimes and
walk with him, and tell him tales, and watch him with tender eyes. But
in him, as in the younger monk, the strain tightened every day.

* * * * *

They were singing Compline together one evening with tired, overstrained
voices, for they had determined not to relax any of the chant until it
was necessary. Mr. Morris was behind them at a chair set beyond the
screen; and there were no others present in church.

The choir was perfectly dark (for they knew the office by heart) except
for a glimmer from the sacristy door where a lamp burned within to light
them to bed. Chris's thoughts had fled back to that summer evening long
ago when he had knelt far down in the nave and watched the serried line
of the black-hooded soldiers of God, and listened to the tramp of the
psalmody, and longed to be of their company. Now the gallant regiment
had dwindled to two, of which he was one, and the guest-master that had
received him and encouraged him, the other.

Dom Anthony was the officiant this evening, and had just sung lustily
out in the dark that God was about them with His shield, that they need
fear no nightly terror.

The movement flagged for a moment, for Chris was not attending; Mr.
Morris's voice began alone, _A sagitta volante_--and then stopped
abruptly as he realised that he was singing by himself; and
simultaneously came a sharp little crash from the dark altar that rose
up in the gloom in front.

A sort of sobbing breath broke from Chris at the sudden noise, and he
gripped his hands together.

In a moment Dom Anthony had taken up the verse.

_A sagitta volante_--"From the arrow that flieth by day, from the thing
that walketh in darkness--" Chris recovered himself; and the office
passed on.

As the two passed out together towards the door, Dom Anthony went
forward up the steps; and Chris waited, and watched him stoop