y followed by the vile Garrigou (_vade retro,
Satanas!_), who seconds him with wonderful skill, sustains his
chasuble, turns over the leaves two at a time, elbows the
reading-desks, upsets the vessels, and is continually sounding the
little bell louder and louder, quicker and quicker.

You should have seen the scared faces of all who were present, as they
were obliged to follow this mass by mere mimicry of the priest,
without hearing a word; some rise when others kneel, and sit down when
the others are standing up, and all the phases of this singular
service are mixed up together in the multitude of different attitudes
presented by the worshippers on the benches....

"The _abbe_ goes too fast.... One can't follow him," murmured the old
dowager, shaking her head-dress in confusion. Master Arnoton with
great steel spectacles on his nose is searching in his prayer-book to
find where the dickens they are. But at heart all these good folks,
who themselves are thinking about feasting, are not sorry that the
mass is going on at this post haste; and when Dom Balaguere with
radiant face turns towards those present and cries with all his might:
"_Ite, missa est_," they all respond to him a "_Deo gratias_" in but
one voice, and that as joyous and enthusiastic, as if they thought
themselves already seated at the midnight repast and drinking the
first toast.

III

Five minutes afterwards the crowd of nobles were sitting down in the
great hall, with the chaplain in the midst of them. The chateau,
illuminated from top to bottom, was resounding with songs, with
shouts, with laughter, with uproar; and the venerable Dom Balaguere
was thrusting his fork into the wing of a fowl, and drowning all
remorse for his sin in streams of regal wine and the luscious juices
of the viands. He ate and drank so much, the dear, holy man, that he
died during the night of a terrible attack, without even having had
time to repent; and then in the morning when he got to heaven, I leave
you to imagine how he was received.

He was told to withdraw on account of his wickedness. His fault was so
grievous that it effaced a whole lifetime of virtue.... He had robbed
them of a midnight mass.... He should have to pay for it with three
hundred, and he should not enter into Paradise until he had celebrated
in his own chapel these three hundred Christmas masses in the presence
of all those who had sinned with him and by his fault....

... And now this is the