CHAPTER IV. Between the acting of a dreadful thing, THE MOUks of the monastery of Arienheim were just retiring from their midnight devotions, and their midnight orgies, when the bell at the portal was rung in a most violent manner, announcing the arrival of a stranger. It was a standing rule of the monastery, that after the vesper belt had rung, the gates were on no pretence to be opened, and although the monks in the arrangement of their private affairs, or under the pretext of giving spiritual comfort to some needy soul, and spirituous comfort to themselves, often contrived to infringe the rule, yet by the inhabitants of the country it was held most sacred, and no one presumed to approach the monastery, after the specified time had elapsed. It was therefore wisely. concluded by the monks, that the person at the gate must be a stranger in the country, and unacquainted with the rules of the monastery, but how to act in this emergency, puzzled the heads of the whole cowled tribe ;— the question of the absolution of a murderer, provided he was prepared with a good sum to pay for it, would have been dispatched in a quarter of the time. To add to this dilemma, the abbot had unfortunately on that evening retired earlier to rest, and was then enjoying a profound repose. During the day he had broached a hogshead of old Johannisberg, and finding the flavour of it uncommonly fine, he had, according to his own conscience, innocently indulged himself with an extra glass. For very cogent reasons, he was therefore obliged to retire to his couch before the sun went down, pretending to his brethren, that he was suddenly in disposed. These sudden attacks upon the health of the abbot took place, however, so frequently, that the monks paid little or no attention to them, and as it was a species of indisposition rather epidemical in the monastery, they wisely adhered to the maxim of clericus clericum non decimat. The bell now sounded again, and with greater violence than before; the monks therefore determined to repair to the gate en masse ( a precious mass of iniquity) and boldly demanded the cause of so unseasonable an intrusion.. Courage and priesthood seldom coalesce; what the man performs by courage, the priest effects by craft; the monks, therefore, had no .sooner gained the outer court, than, as if by a sympathetic impulse, they all suddenly stopped, and looked at each other like a set of school-boys, bent on a dangerous excursion, who cast upon each other the weary eye of fear-longing to return yet ashamed to own their weakness. The question was now agitated whether the gates should be opened, and it was at length decided, as monks generally decide a question, when their personal safety is under consideration, that it were more prudent first to ascertain the strength of the intruding party, before the bolts were withdrawn. At last, one of the monks supposing himself gifted with more courage than his brethren, ascended the steps which led to a small room over the portal, and from which he could have a distinct view, of the intruders. On peeping cautiously from the windows, he observed two persons at the gate, who by their dress and accoutrements filled no mean station in society. The monk knowing himself in a place of safety, demanded in a surly and commanding tone, who they were, and the business which brought them to the monastery at that improper hour? "I must see the abbot," said one of the strangers. "You cannot see him to-night," said the monk-" whence came you?” 66 "That is of no import," said the strangermy name is Leopold Lindamore." At the name of Lindamore, the monk instantly descended, and the gates of the monastery were opened. With a haughty air, Leopold and his companions entered. "Lead me to the abbot," said the former. 46 Being rather indisposed, he retired to rest some hours ago,"-answered one of the monks. Then he has had sufficient time for sleep," said Leopold, "go and rouse him.” "We dare not," said a monk-" we shall be expelled the monastery." "Shew me then his cell," said Leopold, "and I will awake him, be he in his last sleep." The monks were still irresolute. "Lead on," cried Leopold, "or by the holy Father, this blade shall force a road for me.” The monks crossed themselves, and muttered a paternoster. "Pshaw on that foolery," Leopold exclaimed, at the same time placing his hand on the hilt of his sword-" lead me to the abbot or by "We will, we will," exclaimed the monks, and like a flock of waddling geese, they hastened to the apartment of the abbot. Leopold, mean time, paced the court in violent agitation-his soul appeared to be brooding over some mighty project-his brow was furrowed with the lines of intense thought, and every moment he uttered the deepest curses on the tardiness of the monks. For a length of time not one of them was to be seen-they had all has |