The Cellarer left his seat and came to Antonio's side. Isidore and Sebastian followed him, and other monks showed signs of doing the same. But before a word could be breathed into his ear, Antonio wrenched himself out of the midst of the increasing group and threw himself on his knees at the Prior's feet. "For the love of Jesus Christ," he pleaded, in low intense tones, "bid them leave me in peace." The Prior took one of the remaining candles and looked at Antonio intently. At first a shade of scorn darkened his cheek; for he imagined that he saw in Antonio's eyes no more than the physical anguish of a hunted animal. But he looked more deeply; and he saw more. "Fathers and Brethren," he commanded. "Let us have order and silence. Father Sebastian shall speak with Father Antonio; and, after him, the Father Cellarer. It is time for Compline." As everybody knew the almost invariable prayers and psalms of Compline by heart, there was no need for fresh candles, and the community began to recite the office. All had resumed their places save Antonio, who moved slowly away to the obscurest corner, near the granary door. There he stood, blending his prayers and praises with those of his brethren for the last time. He joined in the Confession with deep humility, smiting his breast: and when the Hebdomadarius gave the Absolution, Antonio crossed himself as if Calvary itself were before his eyes. In due time the Psalms, the Hymn, the Little Chapter, and _Pater Noster_ had been said, and the monks began the proper Antiphon of the Blessed Virgin, _Salve Regina_. Repeating the pious words, Antonio quietly opened the granary door; and, at the end of the prayer _Omnipotens sempiterne Deus_, he slipped forth into the soft night. Across the courtyard a light was burning in the room where the Abbot still lay in unnatural sleep. Antonio drew near and gazed through the glass. The old man's hands were clasped on his breast, and his garment fell into stiff folds like the alabaster draperies of a mitered effigy on a tomb. Antonio breathed towards the frail body the prayer he had heard at the beginning of Compline, _Noctem quietam et finem perfectum_: "May the Almighty Lord grant him a quiet night and a perfect end." As he turned away with a bursting heart he came face to face with Father Sebastian, who had seen his stealthy flight. Sebastian, as usual, was drawing his habit closely round his body. There was more than usual of the consumptive glow on his cheek and of the too bright fire in his eyes. The two men faced each other searchingly. "Father Antonio," asked Sebastian at last, "is this our Lord's work or the devil's?" "It is our Lord's," returned Antonio in a firm voice. "Take heed that you do not hinder it." He brushed past and opened the wicket which led into the high road. But, before he passed out, he seized his friend's thin hand in a fierce grip.