"Haec porta Domini: Justi intrabunt in eam."
The novice made another step to the sill and answered in her far-away voice,—
"Ingrediar in locum tabernaculi admirabilis: usque ad domum Dei."
And the choir of nuns, unmoving, answered,—
"Haec est domus Domini firmiter aedificata: Bene fundata est supra firmam petram."
Durtal hastily looked at those faces which could only be seen for a few minutes and on the occasion of such a ceremony. It was a row of dead bodies standing in black shrouds. All were bloodless, with white cheeks, lilac eyelids and grey lips, the voices of all were exhausted and fined down by prayer, and most of them, even the young, were bent. "Their poor bodies are worn with austere fatigue," thought Durtal.
But his reflections were cut short, the bride, now kneeling on the threshold, turned to Dom Etienne and chanted in a low voice,—
"Haec requies mea in saeculum saeculi: Hic habitabo quoniam elegi eam."
The monk laid aside his mitre and crosier and said,—
"Confirma hoc Deus, quod operatus es in nobis."