“The Ankret’s cell is on the south side of the Infirmary Cloister. It is built of stone, being twelve feet long, eight feet broad, and with an arched roof about ten feet high. On the side of the church there is a narrow opening by which the occupant can hear mass and can see the Elevation in the Chapel of St. Catherine. On the other side is a grating by which he can receive his food and converse with the world. But it is too high up for him to see out of it; therefore he has nothing to look upon but the walls of his cell. This morning the west side had been broken down in order to remove the body of the dead man and to cleanse the cell for the newcomer. So, while we gathered round in a circle and the people stood behind us, the Abbot entered the cell, and censed it, and sprinkled it with holy water, singing more Psalms and more prayers. When he came forth the Recluse himself entered, saying aloud: ‘_Hæc Requies mea in seculum seculi_.’ The choir sang another Psalm. Then the Abbot sprinkled dust upon the head of the Recluse with the words beginning ‘_De terra plasmasti_.’ “This done, the _Operarius cum suis operariis_ replaced the stones and built up the wall anew. And then, singing another Psalm, we all went back to the cloister, leaving the Sub-Prior to begin his lifelong imprisonment. A stone bench for bed; his frock for blanket; a crucifix, and no other furniture. In the cold nights that followed, lying in my bed in dormitory, I often bethought myself of the former Sub-Prior alone in his dark cell, with Devils whispering temptation through the grating,--Devils always assail every new Recluse,--well-nigh frozen, praying with trembling lips and chattering teeth. No, I am not worthy. Such things are too high for me. “But the new Sub-Prior proved to possess a heart full of compassion, and the House had rest for many years to come.” NOTE (_in another hand_): “This Recluse, formerly Humphrey of Lambhythe, surpassed in sanctity even his predecessor. It was to him that Henry V. repaired after the death of his father, as is thus recorded by Thomas of Elmham: ‘The day of the funeral having been spent in weeping and lamentation, when the shades of night had fallen upon the face of the earth, the tearful Prince, taking advantage of the darkness, secretly repaired to the Recluse of Westminster, a man of perfect life, and unfolding to him the secret of his whole life, being washed in the bath of true penitence, received against the poison of his sins the antidote of absolution. Thus, having put off the cloak of iniquity, he returned decently garbed in the mantle of virtue.’” CHAPTER IV. THE ABBEY--II.