Just at that moment the convent bell tolled, but he had to pass his hand several times across his brow before he could remember that he must perform vespers in the chapel. He turned his steps toward the vestry door; there was no escape for him from that duty, though the thought seemed pressing him down to the earth that he, with such a fearful weight of unforgiven sin hanging over him, was to kneel at God’s holy altar, and lead the devotions of yonder band of simple, dependent women. All noticed his haggard look and abstracted air, and the weak, almost tottering step with which he mounted the chancel steps; but it was Easter Eve--doubtless the holy Father had sunk under the austerities he had been inflicting on himself during the Lent just passing away, and they gazed on him almost with awe, as a being elevated above the world by his voluntary sufferings--so little do we know each other in this world! Easter Eve! a day full of deep and holy thoughts for thinking minds. Sad, as it brings over our minds the shadow of the garden tomb; joyful, as it points to the glories of the coming morrow. Father Paul never thought of seeking his couch that night. Back and forth he strode the length of his cell; rest seemed banished from him forever. Again and again he passed each argument in review--those which justified God grew more and more powerful; those which justified himself broke one by one like a flaxen band in the flame. More than once he flung himself at full length on the stone floor, and groaned aloud in his anguish. At length, almost unconsciously, he took up his missal which lay on the table beside him, and opened it. The faint gray streaks of the coming daylight revealed to him the very picture he had been showing the sick boy, and with the sight came back the child’s words: "He died for you and me, and so we are safe. His precious blood is on my head, and all my sins are forgiven; nothing else is wanted." He laid the book down softly, then seated himself and buried his face in his hands. That one thought, like the command of Christ, had driven out the demons who were tormenting and mocking his soul. Like Christian, he had come to the foot of the cross, and his burden had fallen into the open sepulchre. Self-righteousness he saw must be exchanged for Christ’s righteousness, and, as in a vision, he beheld the Lamb of God submitting to the punishment due to his sins, and saw how beneath the cross God’s justice might clasp hands with his mercy, how God might be justified, and yet the sinner be pardoned. The morning had dawned, the Easter sun was lifting itself from the horizon, and climbing by golden ropes toward the zenith; but far more gloriously was the risen Sun of Righteousness shining in the long benighted heart of the Benedictine monk!