Presently the Prioress drew the marriage ring from the third finger of her left hand, and gave it to the Knight.
Divining her desire, he rose, laid the ring upon the altar, then knelt again.
Then rising, he took the ring, kissed it reverently, and slipped it upon the little finger of his own left hand.
The sad eyes of the Prioress, watching him, said to this neither "yea" nor "nay."
Rising she waited meekly to know his will for her. The Knight, the blue cloak over his arm, turned to the stretcher, picked up the bandages, then, spoke, very low, without looking at the Prioress.
"Lay thyself down thereon," he said. "I grieve to ask it of thee,
Mora; but there is no other way of taking thee hence, unobserved."
The Prioress took two steps forward, and stood beside the stretcher.
It was many years since she had lain in any human presence. Standing, walking, sitting, kneeling, she had been seen by the nuns; but lying—never.
Though her cross of office and sacred ring were gone, her dignity and authority seemed still to belong to her while she stood, stately and tall, upon her feet.
She hesitated. The apologetic tone the Knight had used, seemed warrant for her hesitancy, and rendered compliance more difficult.