Stooping she laid her hands firmly, yet with kindness in their strength, on the shaking shoulders.
"What is it, dear Antony?" she said.
"Twenty White Ladies went," whispered the old lay-sister. "I counted them. Twenty White Ladies went; but——"
"Well?"
"Twenty-one returned," chattered Mary Antony, and hid her face in the Reverend Mother's robe.
Two flashes, with their accompanying peals of thunder passed, before the Prioress moved or spoke. Then raising Mary Antony she placed her in a chair, disengaged her robe from the shaking hands, passed out into the cell passage, and herself sounded the call to silence and prayer.
Returning to her cell she shut the door, poured out a cordial and put it to the trembling lips of Mary Antony. Then taking a seat just opposite, she looked with calm eyes at the lay-sister.
"What means this story?" said the Prioress.
"Reverend Mother, twenty holy Ladies went——"
"I know. And twenty returned."