o take the
greatest precautions."

The young man shrugged his shoulders as if he considered such
precautions useless, and, always in the same tone of command, said:
"Have some one take my horse to the stable and conduct me to the
council."

The monk summoned another brother, to whom he flung the bridle. He
lighted a torch at a lamp, in the little chapel which can still be
seen to the right of the great portal, and walked before the new-comer.
Crossing the cloister, he took a few steps in the garden, opened a door
leading into a sort of cistern, invited Morgan to enter, closed it as
carefully as he had the outer door, touched with his foot a stone which
seemed to be accidentally lying there, disclosed a ring and raised a
slab, which concealed a flight of steps leading down to a subterraneous
passage. This passage had a rounded roof and was wide enough to admit
two men walking abreast.

The two men proceeded thus for five or six minutes, when they reached
a grated door. 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. Two or three only of these strange monks
had reached the age of forty. All hands were held out to Morgan and
several warm kisses were imprinted upon the new-comer's cheek.

"'Pon my word," said one who had welcomed him most tenderly, "you have
drawn a mighty thorn from my foot; we thought you dead, or, at any rate,
a prisoner."

"Dead, I grant you, Amiet; but prisoner, never! citizen--as they still
say sometimes, and I hope they'll not say it much longer