Mora was safe with Hugh.  That much had been accomplished.

For the rest, things must take their own course.  He could do no more—­go no further.

Then he heard again her voice in the arbour of golden roses, saying, in those low sweet tones which thrilled his very soul:  “He stood to me for all that was vital and alive, in life and in religion; strong to act; able to endure.”

During five minutes the Bishop sat, eyes closed, hands firmly clasped.

So still he sat, that the little Knight of the Bloody Vest, watching, with bright eyes, from the tree overhead, almost made up his mind to drop to the other end of the seat.  He was missing Sister Mary Antony, who had not appeared at all that morning.  This meant neither crumbs nor cheese, and the “little vain man” was hungry.

But at the end of five minutes the Bishop rose, calm and purposeful; moved firmly up the lawn, mounted the steps, and passed into the cloisters.

CHAPTER XXXVII

WHAT MOTHER SUB-PRIORESS KNEW

Mother Sub-Prioress had applied her eye, for the fiftieth time, to the keyhole; but naught could she see in the Prioress’s cell, save a portion of the great wooden cross against the opposite wall.

Sister Mary Rebecca, mounted upon a stool, attempted to spy through the hole over the rope and pulley by means of which the Reverend Mother rang the Convent bell.  But all Sister Mary Rebecca saw, after bumping her head upon a beam, and her nose on the wall, owing to the impossibility of getting it out of the way of her eye, was a portion of the top of the Reverend Mother’s window.

She cried out, as a great discovery, that the curtains were drawn back; upon which, Mother Sub-Prioress, exclaiming, tartly, that that had been long ago observed from the garden below, pushed the stool in her anger, and sent Sister Mary Rebecca flying.

Jumping to save herself, she alighted heavily on the feet of Sister Teresa, striking Mary Seraphine full in the face with her elbow, and scattering, to right and left, the crowd around the door.

This cleared a view for Mother Sub-Prioress straight down the passage and through the big open door, to the cloisters; when, looking up—­to scold Mary Rebecca for taking such a leap, to bid Sister Teresa cease writhing, and Mary Seraphine to shriek in her cell with the door shut, if shriek she must—­Mother Sub-Prioress saw the Bishop, alone and unattended, walking toward them from the cloisters.

“Benedicite,” said the Bishop, as he approached.  “I am fortunate in chancing to find the whole community assembled.”

The Bishop’s uplifted fingers brought the nuns to their knees; but they rose at once to their feet again and crowded behind Mother Sub-Prioress as, taking a step forward, she hastened to explain the situation.

“My Lord Bishop, you find us in much distress.  The Reverend Mother is locked into her cell, and we fear that, after a long night of vigil and fasting, she hath swooned.  We cannot get an answer by much knocking, and we have no means of forcing the door, which is of most massive strength and thickness.”