Into the Refectory of the Monastery

At the end of the cloisters was a door set ajar, and along by the jam, a mellow streak of yellow light was streaming out. I advanced to the light, listened a moment, and then, in my imperious way, pushed wide the panel and entered. It was the refectory of the monastery, and a right noble hall wherein ostentation and piety struggled for dominion. On either side, in mighty candelabra bequeathed by superstition and fear, there twinkled a hundred waxen candles d up to the flames of these steamed as i looked. They who sat here seemed if a layman might judge right well, able