“You can have no share in the prize, if you lend no assistance,” replied Judith, with a dissatisfied look.

“Of course not,” rejoined Chowles; “on this occasion it is all yours.  The Dance of Death is too much to my taste to be given up.”

Perceiving they were noticed, Chowles and Judith then left the Convocation House, and returned to the vault in Saint Faith’s, nor did they emerge from it until late on the following day.

Some rumour of the masque having gone abroad, towards evening a crowd, chiefly composed of the most worthless order of society, collected under the portico at the western entrance, and the great doors being opened by Chowles, they entered the cathedral.  Thus was this sacred building once more invaded—­once again a scene of noise, riot, and confusion—­its vaulted roofs instead of echoing the voice of prayer, or the choral hymn, resounded with loud laughter, imprecations, and licentious discourse.  This disorder, however, was kept in some bounds by a strong body of the royal guard, who soon afterwards arrived, and stationing themselves in parties of three or four at each of the massive columns flanking the aisles, maintained some show of decorum.  Besides these, there were others of the royal attendants, bearing torches, who walked from place to place, and compelled all loiterers in dark corners to proceed to the nave.

A little before midnight, the great doors were again thrown open, and a large troop of richly-attired personages, all wearing masks, were admitted.  For a short time they paced to and fro between its shafted pillars gazing at the spectators grouped around, and evidently, from their jests and laughter, not a little entertained by the scene.  As the clock struck twelve, however, all sounds were hushed, and the courtly party stationed themselves on the steps leading to the choir.  At the same moment, also, the torches were extinguished, and the whole of the building buried in profound darkness.  Presently after, a sound was heard of footsteps approaching the nave, but nothing could be discerned.  Expectation was kept on the rack for some minutes, during which many a stifled cry was heard from those whose courage failed them at this trying juncture.  All at once, a blue light illumined the nave, and partially revealed the lofty pillars by which it was surrounded.  By this light the whole of the ghostly company could be seen drawn up near the western door.  They were arranged two and two, a skeleton standing as before on the right of each character.  The procession next marched slowly and silently towards the choir, and drew up at the foot of the steps, to give the royal party an opportunity of examining them.  After pausing there for a few minutes, Rochester, in the dress of the larger skeleton, started off, and, beating his drum, was followed by the pope and his attendant skeleton.  This couple having danced together for some minutes, to the infinite diversion of the spectators, disappeared behind a pillar, and