Sister Mary Seraphine had been silent long enough to hear the closing and locking of the door.

Now she started afresh.

“Trappings of crimson, and silver bells——­”

The Prioress walked over to the narrow casement, and stood looking out at the rosy clouds wreathing a pale green sky.

“Oh! . . .  Oh! . . .  Oh! . . .” wailed Sister Mary Seraphine, writhing upon the floor; “mane and tail, like foam of the waves; a palfrey as white as snow!”

The Prioress watched the swallows on swift wing, chasing flies in the evening light.

So complete was the silence, that Sister Mary Seraphine—­notwithstanding that turning of the key in the lock—­fancied she must be alone.

“Trappings of crimson, and silver bells!” she declaimed with vehemence; then lifted her face to peep, and saw the tall figure of the Prioress standing at the casement.

Instantly, Sister Mary Seraphine dropped her head.

“Mane and tail,” she began—­then her courage failed; the “foam of the waves” quavered into indecision; and indecision, in such a case, is fatal.

For a while she lay quite still, moaning plaintively, then, of a sudden, quivered from head to foot, starting up alert, as if to listen.

“Wilfred!” she shrieked; “Wilfred!  Are you coming to save me?”

Then she opened her eyes, and peeped again.

The Prioress, wholly unmoved by the impending advent of “Wilfred,” stood at the casement, calmly watching the swallows.

Sister Mary Seraphine began to weep.

At last the passionate sobbing ceased.

Unbroken silence reigned in the cell.

From without, the latch of the door was lifted; but the lock held.

Presently Sister Mary Seraphine dragged herself to the feet of the
Prioress, seized the hem of her robe, and kissed it.

Then the Prioress turned.  She firmly withdrew her robe from those clinging hands; yet looked, with eyes of tender compassion, upon the kneeling figure at her feet.

“Sister Seraphine,” she said, “—­for you must shew true penitence e’er I can permit you to be called by our Lady’s name—­you will now come to my cell, where I will presently speak with you.”

Sister Seraphine instantly fell prone.

“I cannot walk,” she said.

“You will not walk,” replied the Prioress, sternly.  “You will travel upon your hands and knees.”

She crossed to the door, unlocked and set it wide.

“Moreover,” she added, from the doorway, “if you do not appear in my presence in reasonable time, I shall be constrained to send for Mother Sub-Prioress.”

The cell of the Prioress was situated at the opposite end of the long, stone passage; but in less than reasonable time, Sister Seraphine crawled in.

The unwonted exercise had had a most salutary effect upon her frame of mind.