Each one placed his torch in a hole made for that purpose in the oaken desk, and waited.
A thirteenth monk appeared and took his stand before the altar.
None of the monks affected the fantastic behavior of ghosts or shades; they all belonged undoubtedly to the earth, and were living men.
Sir John, a pistol in each hand, stood leaning against the pedestal in the middle of the choir, and watched with the utmost coolness this manoeuvre which tended to surround him.

The monks were standing, like him, erect and silent.
The monk at the altar broke the silence.
"Brothers," he asked, "why are the Avengers assembled ?" "To judge a blasphemer!" replied the monks.
"What crime has this blasphemer committed ?" continued the interlocutor.
"He has tried to discover the secrets of the Companions of Jehu." "What penalty has he incurred ?" "Death." The monk at the altar waited, apparently, to give time for the sentence which had just been pronounced to reach the heart of him whom it concerned.

Then turning to the Englishman, who continued as calm as if he were at a comedy, he said: "Sir John Tanlay, you are a foreigner and an Englishman--a double reason why you should leave the Companions of Jehu to fight their own battles with the government, whose downfall they have sworn.

You failed in wisdom, you yielded to idle curiosity; instead of keeping away, you have entered the lion's den, and the lion will rend you." Then after an instant's silence, during which he seemed to await the Englishman's reply, he resumed, seeing that he remained silent: "Sir John Tanlay, you are condemned to death.

Prepare to die!" "Ah! I see that I have fallen into the hands of a band of thieves.