witness the closing scene. The crowd gathers under the trees and
along the sides of the square, the centre of which, occupied by
the processionists, is a mass of colour, above which the standards
and images which have been carried through the streets rise against
the dark background of the Hôtel de Ville and the Chapel of the
Holy Blood. The relic is taken out of the châsse, and a priest,
standing on the steps of the altar high above the crowd, holds it
up to be worshipped. Everyone bows low, and then, in dead silence,
the mysterious object is carried into the chapel, and with this
the chief religious ceremony of the year at Bruges is brought to
a close.

There are sights in Bruges that night, within a stone's-throw of
the Chapel of the Holy Blood, which are worth seeing, they contrast
so strangely with all this fervour of religion.

The curtain has fallen upon the drama of the day. The flags are
furled and put aside. The vestments are in the sacristy. Shrines,
canopies, censers, all the objects carried in the procession, have
disappeared into the churches. The church doors are locked, and the
images are left to stand all night without so much as one solitary
worshipper kneeling before them. The Bourg is empty and dark, steeped
in black shadows at the door of the chapel where the relic has
been laid to rest. It is all quiet there, but a stroll through
the Rue de l'Âne Aveugle and across the canal by the bridge which
leads to the purlieus of the fish-markets brings one upon another
scene. Every second house, if not every house, is a café, 'herberg,'
or 'estaminet,' with a bar and sanded floor and some rough chairs and
tables; and on the night of the Procession of the Holy Blood they are
crowded to the doors. Peasants from the country are there in great