glare on the opposite tower and buttresses of the convent church,
revealing the statues not yet plucked from their niches, the crosses on
the pinnacles, and the gilt image of Saint Gregory de Northbury, still
holding its place over the porch. Another band are stationed near the
mouth of the vaulted passage, under the chapter-house and vestry, whose
grey, irregular walls, pierced by numberless richly ornamented windows,
and surmounted by small turrets, form a beautiful boundary on the right;
while a third party are planted on the left, in the open space, beneath
the dormitory, the torchlight flashing ruddily upon the hoary pillars
and groined arches sustaining the vast structure above them.

Dolefully sounds the bell. And the ghostly procession thrice tracks the
four ambulatories of the cloisters, solemnly chanting a requiem for the
dead.

Dolefully sounds the bell. And at its summons all the old retainers of
the abbot press to the gate, and sue for admittance, but in vain. They,
therefore, mount the neighbouring hill commanding the abbey, and as the
solemn sounds float faintly by, and glimpses are caught of the
white-robed brethren gliding along the cloisters, and rendered
phantom-like by the torchlight, the beholders half imagine it must be a
company of sprites, and that the departed monks have been permitted for
an hour to assume their old forms, and revisit their old haunts.

Dolefully sounds the bell. And two biers, covered with palls, are borne
slowly towards the church, followed by a tall monk.

The clock was on the stroke of twelve. The procession having drawn up
within the court in front of the abbot's lodging, the prisoners were
brought forth, and at sight of the abbot the whole of the monks fell on