entrance
into an Italian convent. He had said nothing more to the doctor on the
subject. The people in the streets had most of them seen him often and
knew him by name, and it did not occur to any one to wonder why a
foreigner should wear one sort of coat rather than another, when he took
his walks abroad. He walked leisurely; for the sky had cleared, and the
sun was hot. Moreover, he followed the longer road in order to keep his
shoes clean, instead of climbing up the narrow and muddy lane in which
Sor Tommaso had been attacked. He reached the convent door at last,
brushed a few specks of dust from his coat, settled his high collar and
the broad black cravat which was then taking the place of the stock, and
rang the bell with one steady pull. There was, perhaps, no occasion for
nervousness. At all events, Dalrymple was as deliberate in his movements
and as calm in all respects as he had ever been in his life. Only, just
after he had pulled the weather-beaten bell-chain, a half-humorous smile
bent his even lips and was gone again in a moment.

There was the usual slapping and shuffling of slippers in the vaulted
archway within, but as it was now day, the loophole was opened
immediately, and the portress came alone. Dalrymple explained in
strangely accented but good Italian that Sor Tommaso had met with an
accident in the night; that he, Angus Dalrymple, was a friend of the
doctor's and a doctor himself, and had undertaken all of Sor Tommaso's
duties, and, finally, that he begged the portress to find Sister Maria
Addolorata, to repeat his story, and to offer his humble services in
the cause of the abbess's recovery. All of which the veiled nun within
heard patiently to the end.

"I will speak to Sister Maria Addolorata," she said. "Have the goodness
to wait."

"Outside?" inquired Dalrymple, as the little shutter of the loophole was
almost closed.

"Of course," answered the nun, opening it again, and shutting it as soon
as she had spoken.

Dalrymple waited a long time in the blazing sun. The main entrance of
the convent faced to the southeast, and it was not yet midday. He grew
hot, after his walk, and softly wiped his forehead, and carefully folded
his handkerchief again before returning it to his pocket. At last he
heard the sound of steps again, and in a few seconds the loophole was
once more opened.

"Sister Maria Addolorata will speak with you," said the portress's
voice, as he approached his face to the lit