"Lacrymosa dies illa,
Qua resurgat ex favilla
Judicandus homo reus
Huic ergo parce, Deus:
Pie Jesu Domine
Dona eis requiem!"
But Varillo still shrieked "Help!" and his frenzied cries were at last answered. The great bell overhead ceased ringing suddenly,—and its cessation created an effect of silence even amid the noise of the crackling fire and the continued grave music of the organ. Then came a quick tramp of many feet—a hubbub of voices—and loud battering knocks at the chapel door. Ambrosio laughed triumphantly.
"We are at prayers!" he cried—"We admit no one! The devil and I are at prayers!"
Varillo sprang at him once more.
"Madman! Show me the way!" he screamed. "Show me the way down from this place or I will strangle you!"
"Find your own way!" answered Ambrosio—"Make it—as you have always made it!—and follow it—to Hell!"
As he spoke the gallery rocked to and fro, and a tall flame leaped at the organ like a living thing ready to seize and devour. Still the knocking and hammering continued, and still Ambrosio played wild music—till all at once the chapel door was broken open and a group of pale spectral faces in monk's cowls peered through the smoke, and then retreated again.
"Help!" shrieked Varillo—"Help!"
But the air rushing through the door and meeting with that already blowing through the window raised a perfect pyramid of flame which rose straight up and completely encircled the organ. With a frightful cry Varillo rushed to Ambrosio's side, and cowering down, clung to his garments.
"Oh, God!—Oh, God! Have mercy!—"