When he was mounted, he stooped from the saddle and spoke to Brother Philip.

“Philip,” he said, “a very noble lady, betrothed to Sir Hugh d’Argent, has just arrived at the Star hostel, where for some days he has awaited her.  She rides with the Knight forthwith to Warwick, where they will join me at the Castle.  It is my wish to lend Iconoklastes to the lady.  Therefore I desire thee to saddle the palfrey precisely as he was saddled when he went to the Convent of the White Ladies for their pleasuring and play.  Lead him, without delay, to the hostel; deliver him over to the men-at-arms of Sir Hugh d’Argent, and see that they hand this letter at once to the Knight, that he may give it to his lady.  Lose not a moment, my good Philip.  Look to see me return to-morrow.”

The Bishop gathered up the reins, and started out, at a brisk pace, for the Warwick road.

The letter he had intrusted to Brother Philip, sealed with his own signet, was addressed to Sir Hugh d’Argent.  But within was written: 

Will the Countess of Norelle be pleased to accept of the palfrey Iconoklastes as a marriage gift from her old friend Symon Wygorn.

CHAPTER XXXIII

MARY ANTONY HOLDS THE FORT

Mary Antony awaited in the cloisters the return of the White Ladies from Vespers.

The old lay-sister was not in the mood for gay chatter to the robin, nor even for quaint converse with herself.

She sat upon the stone seat, looking very frail, and wearing a wistful expression, quite unlike her usual alert demeanour.

As she sat, she slowly dropped the twenty-five peas from her right hand, to her left, and back again.

A wonderful thing had happened on that afternoon, just before the White Ladies set forth to the Cathedral.

All were assembling in the cloisters, when word arrived that the Reverend Mother wished to speak, in her cell, with Sister Mary Antony.

Hastening thither she found the Reverend Mother standing, very white and silent, very calm and steadfast, looking out from the oriel window.

At first she did not turn; and Mary Antony stood waiting, just within the doorway.

Then she turned, and said:  “Ah, dear Antony!” in tones which thrilled the heart of the old lay-sister.

“Come hither, Antony,” she said; and even as she said it, moved to meet her.

A few simple instructions she gave, concerning matters in the Refectory and kitchen.  Then said:  “Now I must go.  The nuns wait.”

Then of a sudden she put her arms about the old lay-sister.

“Good-bye, my Antony,” she said.  “Thy love and devotion have been very precious to me.  The Presence of the Lord abide with thee in blessing, while we are gone.”

And, stooping, she kissed her gently on the brow; then passed from the cell.

Mary Antony stood as one that dreamed.