The Holy Host had disappeared.
The priests stared at each other in terror. What did it mean? Again the Body of Our Lord had been taken from His resting-place. The captain of the guard was asleep in his chair. Verily the demons were at work once more and Hell was loosed again.
The Archbishop of Ravenna began to weep. He covered his face with his hands. As he knelt upon the altar steps, great tears trickled through his trembling fingers, while he sent up prayers to the Almighty that this sacrilege might be discovered and its perpetrators brought to justice. On either side of him knelt the priests who had come into the chapel after them. Their hearts were filled with fear and sorrow.
The Cardinal of Ravenna rose at last.
His old, lean face shone with holy anger and sorrow.
"An expiatory service will be held in this chapel before noon," he addressed those present. "I shall myself say Mass here. Meanwhile the whole of the palace must be aroused. Somewhere the emissaries of Satan have in their possession the Blessed Sacrament. See that the secret Judas does not escape us!"
Almost upon his words there came a loud wail of anguish from the centre of the chapel where Tristan was still huddled in his chair.
Basil had opened the doublet at his neck, as if to give him air, and the Prefect of the Camera, who was standing by, clapped his hands to his temples, and groaned like a soul in torment.
The two ecclesiastics hurried down from the altar steps.
Upon the lining of Tristan's doublet there lay the large round wafer, which every one present believed to be the consecrated Host.