brooded in the aisles; hushed was the organ; mute the melodious choir.
The only light penetrating the convent church proceeded from the moon,
whose rays, shining through the painted windows, fell upon the graves of
the old abbots in the presbytery, and on the two biers within the
adjoining chapel, whose stark burthens they quickened into fearful
semblance of life.

CHAPTER VI.--TETER ET FORTIS CARCER.

Left alone, and unable to pray, the abbot strove to dissipate his
agitation of spirit by walking to and fro within his chamber; and while
thus occupied, he was interrupted by a guard, who told him that the
priest sent by the Earl of Derby was without, and immediately afterwards
the confessor was ushered in. It was the tall monk, who had been
standing between the biers, and his features were still shrouded by his
cowl. At sight of him, Paslew sank upon a seat and buried his face in
his hands. The monk offered him no consolation, but waited in silence
till he should again look up. At last Paslew took courage and spoke.

"Who, and what are you?" he demanded.

"A brother of the same order as yourself," replied the monk, in deep and
thrilling accents, but without raising his hood; "and I am come to hear
your confession by command of the Earl of Derby."

"Are you of this abbey?" asked Paslew, tremblingly.

"I was," replied the monk, in a stern tone; "but the monastery is
dissolved, and all the brethren ejected."

"Your name?" cried Paslew.

"I am not come here to answer questions, but to hear a confession,"
rejoined the monk. "Bethink you of the awful situation in which you are
placed, and that before many hours you must answer for the sins you have
committed. You have yet time for repentance, if you delay it not."

"You are right, father," replied the abbot. "Be seated, I pray you, and
listen to me, for I have much to tell. Thirty and one years ago I was
prior of this abbey. Up to that period my life had been blameless, or,
if not wholly free from fault, I had little wherewith to reproach
myself--little to fear from a merciful judge--unless it were that I
indulged too strongly the desire of ruling absolutely in the house in
which I was then only second. But Satan had laid a snare for me, into
which I blindly fell. Among the brethren was one named Borlace Alvetham,
a young man of rare attainment, and singular skill in the occult
sciences. He had risen in favour, and at the time I speak of was elected
sub-pri