As they rode forward: "Hath any message arrived at the Palace from the
Convent, Philip?" inquired the Bishop.
"None, my lord."
"Or at the Priory?"
"Nay, my lord. But I did hear, at the Priory, a strange rumour"——
"Rumours are rarely worth regarding or repeating, Brother Philip."
"True, my lord. Yet having so lately aided her to ride upon Icon"——
"'Her'? With whom then is rumour making free? And what saith this
Priory rumour concerning 'her'?"
"They say the old lay-sister, Mary Antony, hath fled the Convent."
"Mary Antony!" exclaimed the Bishop, and his voice held the most extraordinary combination of amazement, relief, and incredulity. "But, in heaven's name, good brother, wherefore should the old lay-sister leave the Convent?"
"They say she was making her way into the city in search of you, my lord; but she hath not reached the Palace."