midnight
Oh , you are really lucky to be among their number , reverend ! ... There 's nothing like sniffing these lovely turkeys , the smell of the truffles follows me around ... . Mm ... -- Come , come , my child , let us beware of the sin of gluttony , especially on Christmas Eve ... . Hurry up , light the candles , and ring the first bell for mass , as midnight is upon us , and we must n't be late ... . This conversation took place one Christmas Eve in the year of our Lord sixteen hundred and God knows what , between the reverend Dom Balaguère , old prior of the Barnabites , then service chaplain of the Sires of Trinquelage , and his minor cleric Garrigou . At least he thought it was his minor cleric Garrigou , for , as you may know , that night the devil himself took on the round face and bland features of the young sacristan , in order to tempt the reverend father into the terrible sin of gluttony . So , as the _ so-called _ Garrigou was swinging his arms to ring the seigneurial chapel 's bells , the reverend managed to put his chasuble back on in the small chateau sacristy , and with a spirit already troubled by gastronomic anticipation , he excited it even more as he dressed himself , by going over the menu , -- Roast turkeys ... golden carp ... trout as fat as your arm ... .