Presently Sister Mary Rebecca, arriving, lifted her hand to knock.

"Stay!" whispered Mary Antony. "The Reverend Mother may not be
disturbed."

Sister Mary Rebecca veiled her scowl with a smile.

"And wherefore not, good Sister Antony?"

"'Wherefore not' is not my business," retorted old Antony, as rudely as
she knew how. "It may be for special study; it may be for an hour of
extra devotion; it may be only the very natural desire for a little
respite from the sight of two such ugly faces as yours and mine. But,
be the reason what it may, Reverend Mother has locked her door, and
sees nobody this even." After which old Antony proceeded to polish the
outside of the Reverend Mother's door panels.

Sister Mary Rebecca lifted her knuckles to rap; but old Antony's not
over clean clout was pushed each time between Sister Mary Rebecca's
tap, and the woodwork.

Muttering concerning the report she would make to the Prioress in the
morning, Sister Mary Rebecca went to her cell.

When all was quiet, when every door was closed, the old lay-sister
crept into the cloisters and, crouching in an archway just beyond the
flight of steps leading to the underground way, watched and waited.

Storm clouds were gathering again, black on a purple sky. The
after-glow in the west had faded. It was dark in the cloisters.
Thunder growled in the distance; an owl hooted in the Pieman's tree.

Mary Antony's old bones ached sorely, and her heart failed her. She
had sat so long in cramped positions, and she had not tasted food since
the mid-day meal.

The Devil drew near, as he is wont to do, when those who have fasted
long, seek to keep vigil.

"The Reverend Mother will not return," he whispered. "What wait you
for?"

"Be off!" said Mary Antony. "I am too old to be keeping company, even
with thee. Also Sister Mary Rebecca awaits thee in her cell."

"The Reverend Mother ever walked with her head among the stars,"
sneered the Devil. "Why do the highest fall the lowest, when
temptation comes?"

"Ask that of Mother Sub-Prioress," said Mary Antony, "next time she
bids thee to supper."

Then she clasped her old hands upon her breast; for, very softly, in
the lock below, a key turned.

Steps, felt rather than heard, passed up into the cloister.

Then, in the dim light, the tall figure of the Prioress moved
noiselessly over the flagstones, passed through the open door and up
the deserted passage.

Peering eagerly forward, th