"And at midnight there was a cry made: Behold, the Bridegroom cometh; go
ye out to meet him. . . . And they that were ready went in with him
to the marriage; and the door was shut. Afterward came also the other
virgins, saying, Lord, Lord, open to us.

"But he answered and said, Verily, I say unto you, I know you not.

"Watch therefore, for ye know neither the day nor the hour wherein the
Son of man cometh."

After reading these verses in a loud voice, my father closed the Bible;
in the room where we were assembled there was a sound of chairs being
moved and we all went down upon our knees to pray. Following the usage
in old Huguenot families, it was our custom to have prayers just before
retiring to our rooms for the night.

"And the door was shut. . . ." Although I still knelt I no longer heard
the prayer, for the foolish virgins appeared to me. They were enveloped
in white veils that billowed about them as they stood before the door
holding in their hands the little lamps whose flickering flames were so
soon to be extinguished, leaving them in the gloom without before that
closed door, closed against them irrevocably and forever. . . . And a
time could come then when it would be too late; when the Saviour weary
of our trespassing would no longer listen to our supplications! I had
never thought that that was possible. And a fear more terrifying and
awful than any I had ever known before completely overwhelmed me at the
thought of eternal damnation. . . .