o Domini sit vobiscum_," he said. Then added, in a lower
tone: "Be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed. . . . Go in peace."

The two men who loved the Prioress, looked steadily at one another.

The men-at-arms moved forward with their burden.

The Knight smiled as he walked on beside the stretcher.

The Bishop hastened to the Palace.

It was the Knight who had smiled, and there was glory in his eyes, and
triumph in the squaring of his broad shoulders, the swing of his
stride, and the proud poise of his head.

The Bishop was white to the lips. His hands trembled as he walked.

He feared--he feared sorely--this that they had accomplished.

It was one thing to theorize, to speculate, to advise, when the
Prioress was safe in her Nunnery. It was quite another, to know that
she was being carried through the streets of Worcester, helpless, upon
a stretcher; that when that blue pall was lifted, she would find
herself in a hostel, alone with her lover, surrounded by men, not a
woman within call.

The heart of a nun was a thing well known to the Bishop, and he
trembled at thought of this, which he had helped to bring about.

Also he marvelled greatly that the Prioress should have changed her
mind; and he sought in vain to conjecture the cause of that change.

Arrived in the courtyard of the Palace, he called for Brother Philip.

"Saddle me Shulamite," he said. "Also mount Jasper on our fastest nag,
with saddle-bags. We ride to Warwick; and must start within a quarter
of an hour."

A portion of that time the Bishop spent writing in the library.

When he was mounted, he stooped from the saddle and spoke to Brother
Philip.

"Philip," he said, "a very noble lady, betrothed to Sir Hugh d'Argent,
has just arrived at the Star hostel, where for some days he has awaited
her. She rides with the Knight forthwith to Warwick, where they will
join me at the Castle. It is my wish to lend Iconoklastes to the lady.
Therefore I desire thee to saddle the palfrey precisely as he was
saddled when he went to the Convent of the White Ladies for their
pleasuring and play. Lead him, without delay, to the hostel; deliver
him over to the men-at-arms of Sir Hugh d'Argent, and see that they
hand this letter at once to the Knight, that he may give it to his
lady. Lose not a moment, my good Philip. Look to see me return
to-morrow."

The Bishop gathered up the reins, and started out, at a brisk pace, for
the Warwick road.

The l