A circular oak table stood in the midst of the chamber, covered with magnificent silver dishes, heaped with the choicest viands, which were handed to the guests by the earl's servants, all of whom represented skeletons, and it had a strange effect, to behold these ghastly objects filling the cups of the revellers, bending obsequiously before some blooming dame, or crowding round their spectral-looking lord.
At first, Chowles was so confused, that he thought he must have awakened in another world, but by degrees he called to mind what had occurred, and ascertained from Judith that he was in the Convocation House.
Getting up, he joined the train of grisly attendants, and acquitted himself so well that the earl engaged him as performer in the masque.

He was furthermore informed that, in all probability, the king himself, with many of his favourite nobles, and the chief court beauties, would be present to witness the spectacle.
The banquet over, word was brought that chairs and coaches were without, and the company departed, leaving behind only a few attendants, who remained to put matters in order.
While they were thus occupied, Judith, who had fixed her greedy eyes upon the plate, observed, in an under-tone, to Chowles, "There will be fine plunder for us.

We must manage to carry off all that plate while they are engaged in the masque." "You must do it yourself, then," returned Chowles, in the same tone--"for I shall have to play a principal part in the entertainment, and as the king himself will be present, I cannot give up such an opportunity of distinguishing myself." "You can have no share in the prize, if you lend no assistance," replied Judith, with a dissatisfied look.
"Of course not," rejoined Chowles; "on this occasion it is all yours.
The Dance of Death is too much to my taste to be given up." Perceiving they were noticed, Chowles and Judith then left the Convocation House, and returned to the vault in Saint Faith's, nor did they emerge from it until late on the following day.
Some rumour of the masque having gone abroad, towards evening a crowd, chiefly composed of the most worthless order of society, collected under the portico at the western entrance, and the great doors being opened by Chowles, they entered the cathedral.

Thus was this sacred building once more invaded--once again a scene of noise, riot, and confusion--its vaulted roofs instead of echoing the voice of prayer, or the choral hymn, resounded with loud laughter, imprecations, and licentious discourse.

This disorder, however, was kept in some bounds by a strong body of the royal guard, who soon afterwards arrived, and stationing themselves in parties of three or four at each of the massive columns flanking the aisles, maintained some show of decorum.