. . . Well, have
thy way; only peck not my fingers, Master Robin, or I will have thee
flogged through the Tything at the cart-tail, as was done to a certain
pieman, whose history I will now relate.

"Once upon a time, when Sister Mary Antony was young, and fair to look
upon--Nay, wink not thy naughty eye----"

At that moment came the sound of a key turning slowly in the lock of
the door at the bottom of the steps leading from the crypt to the
cloister.

CHAPTER III

THE PRIORESS PASSES

A key turned slowly in the lock of the oaken door at the entrance to
the underground way.

The old lay-sister seized her wallet and pulled out the bag of peas.

Below, the heavy door swung back upon its hinges.

Mary Antony dropped upon her knees to the right of the steps, her hands
hidden beneath her scapulary, her eyes bent in lowly reverence upon the
sunlit flagstones, her lips mumbling chance sentences from the Psalter.

The measured sound of softly moving feet drew near, slightly shuffling
as they reached the steps and began to mount, up from the mile-long
darkness, into the sunset light.

First to appear was a young lay-sister, carrying a lantern. Hastening
up the steps, she extinguished the flame, grown sickly in the sunshine,
placed the lantern in a niche, and, dropping upon her knees, opposite
old Mary Antony, sought to join in the latter's pious recitations.

"_Adhaesit pavimento anima mea_," chanted Mary Antony. "Wherefore are
the holy Ladies late to-day?"

"One fell to weeping in the darkness," intoned the young lay-sister,
"whereupon Mother Sub-Prioress caused all to stand still while she
strove, by the light of my lantern held high, to discover who had burst
forth with a sob. None shewing traces of tears, she gave me back the
lantern, herself walking last in the line, as all moved on."

"_Convertentur ad vesperam_, and the devil catch the hindmost," chanted
Mary Antony, with fervour.

"Amen," intoned Sister Abigail, eyes bent upon the ground; for the tall
figure of the Prioress, mounting the steps, now came into view.

The Prioress passed up the cloister with a stately grace of motion
which, even beneath the heavy cloth of her white robe, revealed the
noble length of supple limbs. Her arms hung by her sides, swaying
gently as she walked. There was a look of strength and of restfulness
about the long fingers and beautifully moulded hands. Her face, calm
and purposeful, was lifted to the sunlig