anxious faces. The anxiety and dread, at last, had the effect of imparting an unearthly tinge to their aspects; and they seemed, even to one another, to resemble those departed spirits who are doomed to keep a gloomy vigil through the hours of darkness, beside the well-remembered scenes of their misfortunes or their crimes.
At length, at a late hour, one stormy night, when the three ecclesiastics—to whom alone the secret of the vault was known—happened to be on the watch together, a sound as of a thronging multitude arose in the distance; which, as it drew nearer, was heard above the howling of the wind and the falling of the rain. The tramp of heavy footsteps approached the cathedra; shouts and vociferous cries burst forth on every side; the red glare of innumerable torches shone through the emblazoned windows. At the first alarm, the trio of monks proceeded to carry the portable boxes containing their choicest treasures into the vault below; and by the time the building was surrounded, they had concealed the whole.
Meantime, a series of thundering knocks assailed the door, which it was evident must soon give way beneath the repeated strokes:
