ke with an air of detachment and of mystery. The very simplicity
of her language seemed at once to lift the strange tale she told, into
sublimity.

"Aye, he came. But not for crumbs; not for cheese; not to gossip with
old Antony.

"He stood upon the coping, looking at me with his bright eye.

"'Well, little vain man!' said I. But he moved not.

"'Well, Master Pieman,' I said, 'art come to spy on holy ladies?' But
never a flutter, never a chirp, gave he.

"So grave and yet war-like was his aspect, that at length I said: 'Well,
Knight of the Bloody Vest! Hast thou come to carry off again our noble
Prioress?' Upon which, instantly, he lifted up his voice, and burst into
song; then flew to the doorway, turning and chirping, as if asking me to
follow.

"Greatly marvelling at this behaviour on the part of the little bird I
love, I forthwith set out to follow him.

"Along the passage, on swift wing, he flew; in and out of the empty
cells, as if in search of something.' Then, while I was yet some little
way behind, he vanished into the Reverend Mother's cell, and came not
forth again.

"Laughing to myself at such presumption, I followed, saying: 'Ha, thou
Knight of the Bloody Vest! What doest thou there? The Reverend Mother
is away. What seekest thou in her chamber, Knight of the Bloody Vest?'

"But, reaching the doorway, at that moment, I found myself struck dumb by
what I saw.

"No robin was there, but a most splendid Knight, in shining armour,
kneeled upon his knees before the shrine of our Lady. A blood-red cross
was on his breast. His dark head was uplifted. On his noble face was a
look of pleading and of prayer.

"Marvelling, but unafraid, I crept in, and kneeled behind that splendid
Knight. The look of pleading upon his face, inclined me also to prayer.
His lips moved, as I had seen at the first; but while I stood upon my
feet, I could hear no words. As soon as I too kneeled, I heard the
Knight saying: 'Give her to me! Give her to me!' And at last: 'Mother
of God, send her to me! Take pity on a hungry heart, a lonely home, a
desolate hearth, and send her to me!'"

Mary Antony paused, fixing her eyes upon the rosy strip of sky, seen
through her narrow window. Absorbed in the recital of her vision, she
appeared to have forgotten the presence of the Prioress. She paused; and
there was silence in the cell, for the Prioress made no sound.

Presently the old voice went on, once more.

"Wh