know, messieurs, how we can further serve you?"

"Your pardon, holy madam, but we are not willing intruders. I am
Inspector Setter, of Scotland Yard, London, at your service. The wounded
man is one John Scott, charged with complicity in the murder and robbery
of the late Sir Lemuel Levison of Lone Castle. I bear a warrant for his
arrest, countersigned by your chief of police. But for the prisoner's
dying condition, we should convey him back to England immediately. As it
is, we must hold him in custody here until the end," said the elder and
more respectable-looking of the two Englishmen.

"I am very sorry to hear what you have to tell me; but since it seems
your duty to remain here on guard for the security of your prisoner, I
think it would be better that you should be nearer to him. The Old Men's
Home will afford the most proper lodging for you as well as for him. One
of my nuns will show you the way there, when a room near that of your
wounded prisoner shall be assigned you," said the abbess, with grave
courtesy, as she beckoned a withered old nun to her presence, and
silently directed her to lead the way for the strangers to the lodging
provided for them.

"John Scott, the half brother of the Duke of Hereward, charged with
complicity in the murder and robbery at Castle Lone! Well, I am more
grieved than surprised," murmured the abbess to herself.

Then she sent the younger nuns and novices about their several duties,
and directed one of the elders to see that the refectory was restored to
order.

The abbess was about to return to her own room when she was stayed by
the re-entrance of Inspector Setter, the three gend'armes, and the
countrymen.

The abbess looked up in a grave inquiry at this second intrusion.

"I beg your pardon, reverend madam; I have come to report to you the
condition of your wounded guest, and to relieve you of the presence of
these trespassers," said Inspector Setter, indicating his companions.

"Well, monsieur, what of the wounded man?" inquired the lady.

"The surgeon has dressed his wound, but pronounces it mortal. The man, he
says, cannot live over a few days, perhaps not over a few hours. The
surgeon will not leave him to-day."

"I am very sorry to hear that. Will you be so good as to tell me,
monsieur, how the unfortunate man received his fatal injury? I heard--I
heard--but I hope it is not true," said the abbess, shrinking from
repeating the awful rumor that had reached her ea