The monk, drawing a key from his frock, opened it.

Then, when both had passed through and the door was locked again, he asked: "By what name shall I announce you ?" "As Brother Morgan." "Wait here; I will return in five minutes." The young man made a sign with his head which showed that he was familiar with these precautions and this distrust.

Then he sat down upon a tomb--they were in the mortuary vaults of the convent--and waited.
Five minutes had scarcely elapsed before the monk reappeared.
"Follow me," said he; "the brothers are glad you have come.

They feared you had met with some mishap." A few seconds later Morgan was admitted into the council chamber.
Twelve monks awaited him, their hoods drawn low over their eyes.

But, once the door had closed and the serving brother had disappeared, while Morgan was removing his mask, the hoods were thrown back and each monk exposed his face.
No brotherhood had ever been graced by a more brilliant assemblage of handsome and joyous young men.