It was just as the old chimes were ringing
their doleful chant from the steeple, but these hindered not a whit the
other changes that were set agoing. Not aware of the alteration in his
course, he was much amazed when he found himself striding somewhat
irreverently down the great aisle of the church, towards the choir, from
whence the low chanting of the psalms announced that service was already
begun.
It was the opening of a bright autumnal day. The softened lights
streamed playfully athwart the grim and shadowy masses that lay on the
chequered pavement, like the smiles of infancy sporting on the dark
bosom of the tomb. The screen formed a rich foreground, in half-shadow,
before the east window. The first beam of the morning, clothed in
tenfold brightness, burst through the variegated tracery. Prophets,
saints, and martyrs shone there, gloriously portrayed in heaven's own
light.
Rodolf approached the small door leading into the choir,
[Illustration: COLLEGIATE CHURCH, MANCHESTER.
_Drawn by G. Pickering. Engraved by Edw^d Finden._]
when his vacant eye almost unconsciously alighted on a female form
kneeling just within the recess.
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