_Benedicite_. Saving these slight mistakes, the holy man does his office
very conscientiously, without skipping a line, without omitting a
genuflexion; and all goes well enough as far as the end of the first
Mass; because, you know, on Christmas night the same celebrant must
repeat three consecutive Masses.

"One!" said the chaplain, with a sigh of relief; then, without losing a
minute, he made a sign to his clerk--or the person he believed to be his
clerk, and----

Drelindin din! Drelindin din!

The second Mass begins, and with it begins also the sin of Dom
Balaguère.

"Hurry, hurry, let's get done," cries the thin voice of Garrigou's bell,
and this time the unlucky priest, abandoning himself to the demon of
gluttony, rushes through the missal, devouring its pages with all the
avidity of an overcharged appetite. Frantically he bows; arises; makes
the signs of the cross, goes through the genuflexions, abbreviates all
his gestures, the sooner to be finished. Scarcely does he extend his
arms to the Gospel, or strike his breast where it is required. Between
the clerk and him it is a race which shall jabber the faster. Verse and
response hurry each other, tumble over each other. The words, hardly
pronounced, because it takes too much time to open the mouth, become
incomprehensible murmurs.

_Oremus ps--ps--ps--
Meâ culpâ--pâ--pâ--._