"Well, we shall see to-morrow;" and Durtal made haste to sponge his face, for it was nearly eleven o'clock and the office of Sext was about to begin.
He went to the chapel, which was almost empty, for the brothers were working at that time in the chocolate factory, and in the fields.
The fathers were in their places in the apse. The prior struck his bell, all signed themselves with a large cross, and on the left, where he could not see, for Durtal had taken the same place as in the morning, near Saint Joseph's altar, a voice arose:
"Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum."
And the other part of the choir answered:
"Et benedictus fructus ventris tui, Jesus."
There was a moment's pause, and the pure thin voice of the old Trappist sang as before the office of Compline the evening before:
And the liturgy continued its course, with its "Gloria Patri," etc., during which the monks bowed their foreheads on their books, and with its series of psalms, accented in short tones on the one side, and long on the other.
Durtal, as he knelt, allowed himself to be rocked by the psalmody, too tired to be able to pray himself.
Then, when Sext was ended, all the fathers meditated, and Durtal caught a look of pity from the prior, who turned a little towards his bench. He understood that the monk implored the Saviour for him, and perhaps asked God to show him the way in which he might conduct himself on the morrow.
Durtal rejoined M. Bruno in the court; they shook hands, and the oblate announced the presence of a new guest.
"No; a curate from the neighbourhood of Lyons, he has come to see the abbot, who is ill."
"But I thought the abbot of Notre Dame de l'Atre was the tall monk who led the office?"
"Oh no; that was the prior Father Maximin, you have not seen the abbot, and I doubt if you will see him, for I do not think he will leave his bed before you go."
They reached the guest-house, and found Father Etienne making excuses to a short fat priest for the poor fare he could offer.
He was a jovial priest, with strong features moulded in yellow fat.
He joked M. Bruno, whom he seemed to have known some time, on the sin of gluttony which must so often be committed at La Trappe, then tasted, pretending a chuckle of delight, the scentless bouquet of the poor wine he poured out, and lastly, when he divided with a spoon the omelette which was the main dish of their dinner, he pretended to cut up a fowl, and to be delighted with the fine appearance of the flesh; saying to Durtal, "This is a barley-fed fowl, may I offer you a wing?"