He then returned with Cluny to the band.  Some time before daybreak he came down to the place again, and, entering the water quietly, at a distance from the promontory, swam noiselessly out, and landed at the garden, and there concealed himself in a clump of bushes.  Daylight came.  An hour later some of the nuns of the second order, who belonged to poor families and acted as servants in the convent, came out into the garden, and busied themselves with the cultivation of the flowers, vegetables, and herbs.  Not till the afternoon did any of the other inmates appear; but at about four o’clock the great door of the convent opened, and a number of women and girls streamed out.  The former were all in nuns’ attire, as were a few of the latter, but their garb was somewhat different from that of the elder sisters; these were the novices.  The greater number, however, of the girls were dressed in ordinary attire, and were the pupils of the convent.  While the nuns walked quietly up and down or sat on benches and read, the pupils scattered in groups laughing and talking merrily together.  Among these Archie looked eagerly for Marjory.  He felt sure that her imprisonment could be detention only, and not rigorous seclusion.  Presently he espied her.  She was walking with two of the nuns and three or four of the elder residents at the convent, for many of these were past the age of pupildom; and were there simply as a safe place of refuge during troublous times.  The conversation appeared to be an animated one.  It was not for some time that the group passed within hearing of Archie’s place of concealment.  Then Archie heard the voice of one of the nuns raised in anger: 

“It is monstrous what you say, and it is presumptuous and wicked for a young girl of eighteen to form opinions for herself.  What should we come to if every young woman were to venture to think and judge for herself?  Discord and disorder would be wrought in every family.  All your relations and friends are opposed to this sacrilegious murderer, Robert Bruce.  The church has solemnly banned him, and yet you venture to uphold his cause.”

“But the Bishop of Glasgow,” Marjory said, “and many other good prelates of our church side with him, and surely they must be good judges whether his sins are unpardonable.”

“Do not argue with me,” the sister said angrily.  “I tell you this obstinacy will be permitted no longer.  Had it not been that Alexander of Lorne begged that we would not be harsh with you, steps would long since have been taken to bring you to reason; but we can no longer permit this advocacy of rebellion, and the last unmaidenly step which you took of setting at defiance your friends and relatives, and even of sending messages hence, must be punished.  The abbess bade me reason with you and try and turn your obstinate will.  Your cousins of Badenoch here have appealed to you in vain.  This can no longer be tolerated.  The lady abbess bids me tell you that she gives you three days to renounce the rebel opinions you have so frowardly held, and to accept the husband whom your uncle and guardian has chosen for you, your cousin John of Lorne, his son.  During that time none will speak to you.  If at the end of three days you are still contumacious you will be confined to your cell on bread and water until better thoughts come to you.”