While, for the best day of the world, the procession walked slowly Besançon, and stopped at the bright altars raised at will by all authorities in the church had remained in profound silence. Semi-darkness, a pleasant coolness reigned, it was still fragrant with the scent of flowers and incense.

The silence, the profound solitude, the freshness of the long aisles made the sweetest dreams of Julien. He had no fear of being disturbed by the abbot busy in another part of the building. His soul had almost given up his mortal coil, who was walking slowly in the north wing entrusted to his supervision. It was even more quiet, he made sure that there was in the confessional that some pious women looked without seeing his eye.

However, his distraction was half conquered by the appearance of two women who were well placed on his knees, one in a confessional, and the other near the first, on a chair. He looked without seeing, but is vague feeling of duty or admiration for the noble and simple of the ladies, he noticed that there was no priest in the confessional. It is strange, he thought, that these ladies are not kneeling before some altar, if they are devout, or advantageously placed at the top of a balcony, if they are in the world. As this dress is well made! what grace! He slowed his pace to try to see them.