The monk was still standing there, but the cowl had dropped over his face.

Striving to shake off the horror that possessed him, the abbot staggered forward, and reaching the presbytery, sank upon his knees.
The ceremonial then commenced.

The solemn requiem was sung by the choir; and three yet living heard the hymn for the repose of their souls.
Always deeply impressive, the service was unusually so on this sad occasion, and the melodious voices of the singers never sounded so mournfully sweet as then--the demeanour of the prior never seemed so dignified, nor his accents so touching and solemn.

The sternest hearts were softened.
But the abbot found it impossible to fix his attention on the service.
The lights at the altar burnt dimly in his eyes--the loud antiphon and the supplicatory prayer fell upon a listless ear.

His whole life was passing in review before him.