“Never were heard such shrieks of merriment!  Even Mother Sub-Prioress sank upon a seat to laugh with less fatigue.  Sister Seraphine’s fretful complaints were forgotten.

“Twice round the field went old Antony, with fingers uplifted.  Icon stepped carefully, arching his neck and walking as if he well knew that he bore on his back, ninety odd years of brave gaiety.

“Well, that made of the Play Day a success.  But—­the best of all was yet to come.”

The Bishop took up the faggot-fork, and again tended the fire.  He seemed to find it difficult to tell that which must next be told.

The Knight was breathing quickly.  He sat immovable; yet the rubies on his breast glittered continuously, like so many eager, fiery eyes.

The Bishop went on, speaking rapidly, the faggot-fork still in his hand, his face turned to the fire.

“They had lifted Mary Antony down, and were crowding round Icon, patting and praising him, when a message came from the Reverend Mother, bidding Brother Philip to bring the palfrey into the courtyard; the nuns to remain in the field.

“They watched the beautiful creature pace through the archway and disappear, and none knew quite what would happen next.  Philip heard them discussing it later.

“Some thought the Bishop had sent for his palfrey.  Others, that the Reverend Mother had feared for the safety of the old lay-sister; or, lest her brave example should fire the rest to be too venturesome.  Yet all eyes were turned toward the archway, vaguely expectant.

“And then——­

“They heard the hoofs of Icon ring on the flagstones of the courtyard.

“They heard the calm voice of the Prioress.  Could it be she who was coming?

“Out from the archway, into the sunshine, alone and fearless; the Prioress rode upon Icon.  On her face was the light of a purposeful radiance.  The palfrey stepped as if proud of the burden he carried.

“She smiled and would have cried out gaily to the groups as she passed.  But, with one accord, the nuns dropped to their knees, with clasped hands, and faces uplifted, adoring.  Always they loved her, revered her, and thought her beautiful.  But this vision of the Prioress, whom none had ever seen mounted, riding forth into the sunshine on the snow-white palfrey, filled their hearts with praise and with wonder.

“Brother Philip leaned against the archway, watching.  He knew his hand upon the bridle was no longer needed, from the moment when he saw the Reverend Mother gather up the reins in her left hand, lay her right gently on the neck of Icon, and, bending, speak low in his ear.

“She sat a horse—­said Philip—­as only they can sit, who have ridden from childhood.

“She walked him round the meadow once, then gently shook the reins, and he broke into a trot.

“The watching nuns, now on their feet again, shrieked aloud, with fright and glee.