The only nun who peeped was Sister Mary
Seraphine, prone upon the floor.

After a while, the Prioress arose, pale but calm.

"Carry her to her cell," she said.

Two tall nuns to whom she made sign lifted Sister Seraphine, and bore
her out.

When the shuffling of their feet died away in the distance, the
Prioress gave further commands.

"All will now go to their cells and kneel in adoration before the
crucifix. Doors are to be left standing wide. The _Miserere_ is to be
chanted, until the ringing of the Refectory bell. Mother Sub-Prioress
will remain behind."

The nuns dispersed, as quickly as they had gathered; seeking their
cells, like frightened birds fleeing before a gathering storm.

The tall nuns who had carried Sister Seraphine returned and waited
outside the Reverend Mother's door.

The Prioress stood alone; a tragic figure in her grief.

Mother Sub-Prioress drew near. Her narrow face, peering from out her
veil, more than ever resembled a ferret. Her small eyes gleamed with a
merciless light.

"Is mine the task, Reverend Mother?" she whispered.

The Prioress inclined her head.

Mother Sub-Prioress murmured a second question.

The Prioress turned and looked at the crucifix.

"Yes," she said, firmly.

Mother Sub-Prioress sidled nearer; then whispered her third question.

The Prioress did not answer. She was looking at the carved, oaken
stool, overthrown. She was wondering whether she could have acted with
better judgment, spoken more wisely. Her heart was sore. Such noble
natures ever blame themselves for the wrong-doing of the worthless.

Receiving no reply, Mother Sub-Prioress whispered a suggestion.

"No," said the Prioress.

Mother Sub-Prioress modified her suggestion.

The Prioress turned and looked at the tender figure of the Madonna,
brooding over the blessed Babe.

"No," said the Prioress.

Mother Sub-Prioress frowned, and made a further modification; but in
tones which suggested finality.

The Prioress inclined her head.

The Sub-Prioress, bowing low, lifted the hem of the Reverend Mother's
veil, and kissed it; then passed from the room.

The Prioress moved to the window.

The sunset was over. The evening star shone, like a newly-lighted
lamp, in a pale purple sky. The fleet-winged swallows had gone to rest.

Bats flitted past the casement, like homeless souls who know not where
to go.

Low chanting began in the cells; the nuns, with open doors, singing