Argent awaiting him, and together they had paced
this lawn in earnest conversation.

Hugh had been anxious to hear every detail of his visit to the Convent
and the scene in the Prioress's cell when he had shewn her the copy of
the Pope's mandate, just received from Rome. In speaking of the
possible developments which might take place in the course of the next
few hours, Hugh had asked whether any in the Convent, beside Mora
herself, knew of his presence in Worcester, or that he had managed to
obtain entrance to the cloisters by the crypt passage, to make his way
disguised to Mora's cell, and to have speech with her.

The Bishop had answered that none knew of this, save the old lay-sister
Mary Antony, who was wholly devoted to the Prioress, made shrewd by
ninety years of experience in outwitting her superiors, and could be
completely trusted.

"How came she to know?" the Bishop seemed to remember that the Knight
had asked. And he had made answer that he had as yet no definite
information, but was inclined to suspect that when the Prioress had
bidden the old woman begone, she had slipped into some place of
concealment from whence she had seen and heard something of what passed
in the cell.

To this the Knight had made no comment; and now, walking up and down
the lawn, the white stone in his hand, the Bishop could not feel sure
how far Hugh had taken in the exact purport of the words; yet well he
knew that sentences which pass almost unnoticed when heard with a mind
preoccupied, are apt to return later on, with full significance, should
anything occur upon which they shed a light.

This then was the complication which had brought the Bishop out to pace
the lawn, recalling each step in the conversation, there where it had
taken place.

Sooner or later, Mora will tell her husband of Mary Antony's wondrous
vision. If she reaches the conclusion, uninterrupted, all will be
well. The Knight will realise the importance of concealing the fact of
the old lay-sister's knowledge--by non-miraculous means--of his
presence in the cell, and his suit to the Prioress. But should she
preface her recital by remarking that none in the Community had
knowledge of his visit, the Knight will probably at once say: "Nay,
there you are mistaken! I have it from the Bishop that the old
lay-sister, Mary Antony, knew of it, having stayed hidden where she saw
and heard much that passed; yet being very faithful, and more than
common shrewd,