"But how shall Luther hear from us?" asked Eva von Schoenfeld, when the sudden enthusiasm had given place to calm reflection.
"That is the least of our difficulties," replied Magdalene. "Klaus, the gardener, will do the errand for me with pleasure. He has long been waiting for an opportunity to show his gratitude for the help I gave him, when the poisonous insect stung his hand."
Then the door was hastily flung open, and pale as death, Elizabeth von Kanitz rushed into the room.
"All is lost!" she cried, wringing her hands. "My father has come, and in the presence of the abbess, with many reproaches, gave me his answer to my letter. Our secret is betrayed, and I, unhappy girl, have been the cause!"
Burying her face in her hands, she sank upon a stool. The others, speechless, and paralyzed with terror, surrounded her.
Magdaline von Staupitz was the first to recover herself.
"Sisters," she pleaded, "do not lose heart! They will make haste to separate and punish us! We will therefore use the few moments that are left us, and promise each other to abide by our purpose. Now, more than ever, Luther is our only hope. Leave it to me—I will send a messenger to him!"
The nuns had scarcely expressed their assent, when a shuffling step was heard approaching, and presently the abbess stood before the trembling Sisters.
The old woman's face, ordinarily of an ashen hue, had assumed a greenish tint, which was an indication of the deepest anger. Quivering with rage, she struggled to overcome her agitation sufficiently, to give utterance to her feelings. For some moments her lips were unable to frame the words, and in anxious silence the nuns, with hands crossed, and heads bowed, stood like criminals, awaiting their doom. Finally, broken sentences fell from the sanctified lips:
"Oh, that my old eyes should witness such shame! What have you done, you children of Satan? If you stood before me—as fallen Magdalens—as murderesses—from my heart I could pity you. But my soul revolts at your crime, and the sharpest scourge is too gentle for such as you. Only the day before yesterday, in proud joy, I reported to the General of the order—the convent of Marienthron is an undefiled sanctuary, and proof against heresy. Now—I am made a liar, my pride is humbled, my glory put to shame! Holy Mother of God, hide thy face from this iniquity, nor, because of the sin of these nine, do thou punish the whole of this consecrated house. Their crime shall be visited with heavy punishment, that the stain may be wiped away! But you—you—you—why do you stand? On your knees with you! Into the dust!"