Instantly, Sister Mary Seraphine dropped her head.
"Mane and tail," she began—then her courage failed; the "foam of the waves" quavered into indecision; and indecision, in such a case, is fatal.
For a while she lay quite still, moaning plaintively, then, of a sudden, quivered from head to foot, starting up alert, as if to listen.
"Wilfred!" she shrieked; "Wilfred! Are you coming to save me?"
Then she opened her eyes, and peeped again.
The Prioress, wholly unmoved by the impending advent of "Wilfred," stood at the casement, calmly watching the swallows.
Sister Mary Seraphine began to weep.
At last the passionate sobbing ceased.
Unbroken silence reigned in the cell.
From without, the latch of the door was lifted; but the lock held.