, to return as a Cardinal of
Holy Church.

His acceptance or refusal must be penned before night. The messenger
expected to start upon his return journey early on the morrow.

Should he go? Or should he stay?

Was all now well for Mora? Or did she yet need him?

Surely never had Cardinal's hat hung poised for such a reason! How
little would the Holy Father dream that a question affecting the
happiness or unhappiness of a woman could be a cause of hesitancy.

Presently, with a quick movement, the Bishop lifted his head. The
library was far removed from the courtyard; but surely he heard the
clatter of horses' hoofs upon the raving stones.

He had hardly hoped for Brother Philip's return until after sunset;
yet--with fast riding----

If the Knight's answer were in all respects satisfactory--If Mora's
happiness was assured--why, then----

He sounded the silver gong.

His servant entered.

"What horsemen have just now ridden into the courtyard, Jasper?"

"My lord, Brother Philip has this moment returned, and with him----"

"Bid Brother Philip to come hither, instantly."

"May it please you, my lord----"

"Naught will please me," said the Bishop, "but that my commands be
obeyed without parley or delay."

Jasper's obeisance took him through the door.

The Bishop bent over the letter from Rome, shading his face with his
hand.

He could scarcely contain his anxiety; but he did not wish to give
Brother Philip occasion to observe his tremulous eagerness to receive
the Knight's reply.

He heard the door open and close, and a firm tread upon the floor. It
struck him, even then, that the lay-brother had not been wont to enter
his presence with so martial a stride, and he wondered at the ring of
spurs. But his mind was too intently set upon Hugh d'Argent's letter,
to do more than unconsciously notice these things.

"Thou art quickly returned, my good Philip," he said, without looking
round. "Thou has done better than my swiftest expectations. Didst
thou give my letter thyself into the hands of Sir Hugh d'Argent, and
hast thou brought me back an answer from that most noble Knight?"

Wherefore did Brother Philip make no reply?

Wherefore did his breath come sharp and short--not like a stout
lay-brother who has hurried; but, rather, like a desperate man who has
clenched his teeth to keep control of his tongue?

The Bishop wheeled in his chair, and found himself looking full into
the face of Hugh d'A