When war broke upon the land possibly some of their number had volunteered to work with the Red Cross units who looked after the wounded. While their vows would forbid that they take an active part in the fighting, still they could labor to relieve human distress.
It might be the younger and more active members thus offered their services to the sanitary corps for this purpose, while the older Brothers remained in the sanctuary. And perhaps one of those who had gone forth had been cut down by some hostile shot, for when the air was filled with bursting shells the field hospitals did not always escape serious damage, though they might be located far back of the firing-line.
They had brought the dead hero home to be buried according to the quaint rules of the Order; and accident had allowed Bumpus to be a deeply interested spectator of the midnight funeral.
He considered the situation, and decided that he surely could not have anything to fear from these good Brothers of the cowl and robe. The night air was chill, which was the only reason why he continued to shiver now, and not because he entertained anything like fear, for he indignantly spurned the idea.
So he had better go back to his cot and try to finish his sleep, for he was in great need of further rest. A scout should not give way to such a feeling as timidity, Bumpus stoutly told himself several times. In the morning he could show himself to the monks and beg a breakfast, perhaps. Even then it can be seen that Bumpus had an eye to the future, and remembered how he was in the habit of expecting a hearty meal when he woke up.
The chant was dying down by degrees, and he supposed it would soon cease altogether, as the last shovel of earth was placed over the Brother who had gone to his reward. So with his teeth firmly set and his mind made up, Bumpus crept back to his cot, upon which he spread himself.
Long he lay there, his thoughts taking many curious twists and turns, due to the fact of his recent alarm and the remarkable sight he had witnessed. Well, for one thing, he would have a startling story to tell Giraffe and the others when he joined them again. Somehow this seemed to afford him a wonderful amount of satisfaction. But the droning chant outside finally acted upon his mind as a sedative, and finally Bumpus lost all recollection of time, for he slept.
Not once did the tired boy awaken during the balance of that night. When he finally opened his eyes it was because he heard some one utter a loud cry of amazement. Bumpus, staring upward, found himself looking into the fat face of one of the older Brothers, evidently astounded to discover a stranger, and a boy at that, calmly sleeping on the cot, which, Bumpus afterward learned, actually belonged to the one whose midnight funeral he had witnessed.
Bumpus smiled blandly. Somehow he seemed to grasp the essential facts this time without any beating around the bush. And he meant to do everything in his power to make friends of these recluse members of the monastery.
The man in the rough robe asked him something. Bumpus knew that undoubtedly he must be inquiring as to his identity and how he came there; but, alas! the questions being in French, he could not make a suitable reply.