The Knight’s eyes, frowning from beneath a shading hand, were gloomy and full of sombre fury.

It mattered not to him in what surroundings this preposterous offer, that she should leave the Convent and fly with him to Warwick, had been made to Seraphine.  Her swollen countenance would be equally unattractive, whether lifted in cell or cloister, or where white clouds chased one another across the blue sky!

The Knight felt as if he were being chased, and by something more to be feared than a white cloud.  Grim Nemesis pursued him.  This reverend prelate, whom he had deemed so wise, was well-nigh witless.  Yet Mora knew the truth.  Would her kind hands deal him so base a blow?

The Bishop saw the brooding rage in the Knight’s eyes, and he lowered his own to the letter, in time to hide their twinkling.

Even the best and bravest of Knights, for having forced his way into a Nunnery, pressed a suit upon a nun, and escaped unscathed, deserved some punishment at the hands of the Church!

“Which was generous in the Reverend Mother,” said the Bishop, “since she was inclined, upon the whole, to disapprove this offering of liberty to the restless nun.  You can well understand that, the responsibility for the good conduct of that entire Community resting upon the Prioress, she is bound to regard with disfavour any innovation which might tend to provoke a scandal.”

The Bishop did not look up, or he would have seen dull despair displacing the Knight’s anger.

“However she appears faithfully to have laid before Sister Mary Seraphine, my view of the matter, giving her to understand that I am inclined to be lenient concerning vows made under misapprehension; also that, when there is not a true vocation, and a worldly spirit chafes against the cloistered life, I regard its presence within the Community as more likely to be harmful to the common weal, than the short-lived scandal which might arise if those in power should connive at an escape.”

The Knight moved impatiently in his seat.

“Could we arrive, my lord,” he said, “at the Lady Prioress’s message, of which you spoke?”

“We are tending thither, my son,” replied the Bishop, unruffled.  “Curb your impatience.  We of the Cloister are wont to move slowly, with measured tread—­each step a careful following up of the step which went before—­not with the leaps and bounds and capers of the laity.  In due time we shall reach the message.

“Well, in this conversation the Prioress appears to have complied with my suggestions, excepting in the matter of one most important detail, concerning which she used her own discretion.  I distinctly advised her to tell Seraphine that we were aware of your arrival, and that to my certain knowledge you were in the crypt each afternoon at the hour when the White Ladies pass to and from Vespers.  In fact, my dear Knight, I even went so far as to suggest to the Reverend Mother to give Sister Mary Seraphine to understand that if she stepped aside, losing her way among the many pillars, you would probably know what to do next.