midnight
The Cathedral was full of echoes -- murmurous rebounds of the noises of the streets , drawn out and mellowed into long , soft , rolling tones , against which , as against a foil , there stood out detached , now and then , the sudden footsteps of someone leaving or entering a confessional , the short scream of a slipping chair -- once the sudden noise of a confessional-door being opened and the click of the handle which turned out the electric light . And it was full of shadows , too ; a monstrous outline crossed and recrossed the apse behind the High Altar , as the sacristan moved about ; once a hand , as of a giant , remained poised for an instant somewhere on the wall beside the throne . It seemed to the priest , tired and clear-brained as he was , as if he sat in some place of expectation -- some great cavern where mysteries moved and passed in preparation for a climax . All was hushed and confused , yet alive ; and the dark waves would break presently in the glory of the midnight Mass. . He scarcely knew what held him there , nor what it was for which he waited . He thought of the lighted common-room at the end of the long corridor beyond the sacristy . He wondered who was there ; perhaps one or two were playing billiards and smoking ; they had had a hard day of it and would scarcely get to bed before three .