It was the Reverend Mother who had not returned.
"Good-bye, my Antony. The Presence of the Lord abide with thee in blessing, while we are gone." Ah, gone! Never to return!
Once again the old lay-sister stood as one that dreamed; but this time instead of beatific joy, there was a forlorn pathos in the dreaming.
Presently a door opened, and a step sounded, far away in the passage beyond the Refectory stairs.
Instantly a look of cunning and determination replaced the helpless dismay on the old face. She quickly closed the cell door, hung up the crypt key in its accustomed place; then kneeling before the shrine of the Madonna: "Blessèd Virgin," she prayed, with clasped hands uplifted; "be pleased to sharpen once again the wits of old Mary Antony."
Rising, she found the key of the Reverend Mother's cell, passed out, closing the door behind her; locked it, and slipped the key into her wallet.
The passage was empty. All the nuns were spending in prayer and meditation the time until the Refectory bell should ring.
Mary Antony appeared in the kitchen, only a few minutes later than usual.
"Prepare you the evening meal," she said to her subordinates. "I care not what the holy Ladies feed upon this even, nor how badly it be served. Reverend Mother again elects to spend the night in prayer and fasting. So Mother Sub-Prioress will spit out a curse upon the viands; or Sister Mary Rebecca will miaul over them like an old cat that sees a tom in every shadow, though all toms have long since fled at her approach. Serve at the usual hour; and let Abigail ring the Refectory bell. I am otherwise employed. And remember. Reverend Mother is on no account to be disturbed."
The porteress, at the gate, jumped well-nigh out of her skin when, turning, she found Mary Antony at her elbow.