Monsignor Saracinesca left the garden by the glass door that opened into the large hall, already described, and he went out past the portress's little lodge. She was just opening the outer door when he came up with her, and the next moment he found himself face to face with Madame Bernard. He stepped back politely to let her pass, and lifted his hat with a smile of recognition; but instead of advancing she uttered a little cry of surprise and satisfaction, and retreated to let him come out. He noticed that her face betrayed great excitement, and she seemed hardly able to speak.
'What is the matter?' he asked kindly, as he emerged from the deep doorway.
The portress was waiting for Madame Bernard to enter, but the Frenchwoman had changed her mind and held up her hand, shaking one forefinger.
'Not to-day, Anna!' she cried. 'Or later—I will come back, perhaps—I cannot tell. May I walk a few steps with you, Monseigneur?'
'By all means,' answered the prelate.
The door of the Convent closed behind them, but Madame Bernard was evidently anxious to get well out of hearing before she spoke. At the corner of the quiet street she suddenly stood still and looked up to her companion's face, evidently in great perturbation.
'Well?' he asked. 'What is it?'
Monsignor Saracinesca thought the good woman was dreaming.
'It is impossible,' he said emphatically.