with his
left, and led her forward to the altar.

There he loosed her hand as they knelt side by side; he clasping his
upon the crossed hilt of his sword; she crossing hers upon her breast.

Presently the Prioress drew the marriage ring from the third finger of
her left hand, and gave it to the Knight.

Divining her desire, he rose, laid the ring upon the altar, then knelt
again.

Then rising, he took the ring, kissed it reverently, and slipped it
upon the little finger of his own left hand.

The sad eyes of the Prioress, watching him, said to this neither "yea"
nor "nay."

Rising she waited meekly to know his will for her. The Knight, the
blue cloak over his arm, turned to the stretcher, picked up the
bandages, then, spoke, very low, without looking at the Prioress.

"Lay thyself down thereon," he said. "I grieve to ask it of thee,
Mora; but there is no other way of taking thee hence, unobserved."

The Prioress took two steps forward, and stood beside the stretcher.

It was many years since she had lain in any human presence. Standing,
walking, sitting, kneeling, she had been seen by the nuns; but
lying--never.

Though her cross of office and sacred ring were gone, her dignity and
authority seemed still to belong to her while she stood, stately and
tall, upon her feet.

She hesitated. The apologetic tone the Knight had used, seemed warrant
for her hesitancy, and rendered compliance more difficult.

Each moment it became more impossible to place herself upon the
stretcher.

"Lie down," said the Knight, sternly.

At the curt word of command, the Prioress shuddered again; but, without
a word, she laid herself down upon the stretcher, closing her eyes, and
crossing her hands upon her breast. So white she was, so still, so
rigid; as Hugh d'Argent, the bandages in his hand, stood looking down
upon her, she seemed the marble effigy of a recumbent Prioress, graven
upon a tomb; save that, as the Knight looked upon that beautiful, proud
face, two burning tears forced their way from beneath the closed lids
and rolled helplessly down the pale cheeks.

She did not see the look of tender compunction, of adoring love, in
Hugh's eyes.

Her shame, her utter humiliation, seemed complete.

Not when she took off her jewelled cross, and placed it upon our Lady's
hand; not when she stepped aside and allowed herself to be hidden by
the cloak; not even when she removed her ring and handed it to Hugh,
did she cease