r, at first sight, as the same
woman whose shadow had passed between herself and the Wanderer on that
eventful day a month ago. The shadow had been veiled, but she had a
prescient consciousness of the features beneath the veil. Nevertheless,
she might be mistaken. It would be necessary to seek her acquaintance
by some excuse and endeavour to draw from her some portion of her story,
enough to confirm Unorna's suspicions, or to prove conclusively that
they were unfounded. To do this, Unorna herself needed all her strength
and coolness, and she was glad when a lay sister entered the room
bringing her evening meal.

There were moments when Unorna, in favourable circumstances, was able
to sink into the so-called state of second sight, by an act of volition,
and she wished now that she could close her eyes and see the face of the
woman who was only separated from her by two or three walls. But that
was not possible in this case. To be successful she would have needed
some sort of guiding thread, or she must have already known the person
she wished to see. She could not command that inexplicable condition as
she could dispose of her other powers, at all times and in almost all
moods. She felt that if she were at present capable of falling into the
trance state at all, her mind would wander uncontrolled in some other
direction. There was nothing to be done but to have patience.

The lay sister went out. Unorna ate mechanically what had been set
before her and waited. She felt that a crisis perhaps more terrible than
that through which she had lately passed was at hand, if the stranger
should prove to be indeed the Beatrice whom the Wanderer loved. Her
brain was in a whirl when she thought of being brought face to face with
the woman who had been before her, and every cruel and ruthless instinct
of her nature rose and took shape in plans for her rival's destruction.

She opened her door, careless of the draught of frozen air that rushed
in from the corridor. She wished to hear the lady's footstep when
she left her room to go to the church, and she sat down and remained
motionless, fearing lest her own footfall should prevent the sound from
reaching her. The heavy-toned bells began to ring, far off in the night.

At last it came, the opening of a door, the slight noise made by a light
tread upon the pavement. She rose quietly and went out, following in the
same direction. She could see nothing but a dark shadow moving before
h