It seemed to Baudet that he had slept one hour at most when his slumber was interrupted by his fellow novice, Claudin, shaking him, a finger touching his lips to indicate silence. One oil lamp, flickering, sent ghostly shadows around the dormitory. The senior novice pointed to the wash basins at the far end of the room, then to the white robe folded at the foot of the bed. Baudet understood these simple messages: quiet – wash – dress, and he obeyed at once. Outside in the corridor, Claudin whispered: “We’re going to attend the early-morning Lauds service. Fear not, it doesn’t happen every day!”
“Good,” the novice responded with a wry smile.
“It’s a tradition for every new boy to go to Lauds as his first act of devotion. Sit next to me, watch and listen. We celebrate mass only at Vespers.
