"Nay, reverend mother, methinks the common fare of your refectory will suit us well enough," returned the younger man. "If all tales be true, we are not the first who have had such entertainment, and methinks we were safer to make you our taster."
The reverend mother made no reply to his impudence, but giving a sign to the sisters, they withdrew as they had entered. When all had passed but herself and the mother assistant, she advanced to the wide grating which separated the choir from the church, and held out her hand, covered with a fold of her robe, for the bishop's letter. The elder man gave it her with a reverence for which I liked him all the better, and said, in a low tone, as the other turned away:
"Be advised, madam. Resistance can do no good, and will bring only heavier calamity on yourself and your flock. Be advised, and follow your visitor's counsel."
"I thank you, sir, for your words, which I see are kindly meant," said the prioress; "but I must have little time to consider the matter. How long can you give me?"
He called back his brother commissioner, and after consultation, in which he seemed to press some point which the other yielded unwillingly, he turned and said: "Till to-morrow at this hour, madam."
"I thank you," said the lady once more—and passed out of the door. I closed my instrument, not without a sob, as I thought I might never touch it again, and followed the reverend mother.
It was now the time for dinner, but the bell had not been rung. The sisters were standing talking together in excited groups, and many an angry and contemptuous glance was cast at the two traitors. The prioress at once restored order, and bade the portress ring the bell for dinner.
"Let us have no misorder—no relaxation of discipline on what may perhaps be our last day in this blessed inclosure," said she. "Slandered we have been and may be, but let us keep our own consciences clear and unstained. That comfort no one can take from us."
It was a feast day, and our cheer was better than common, but nobody felt like eating. The ceremonies of the table went on as usual, however, and the reader's voice never faltered. After dinner came recreation, and then the tongues were let loose again.
"Well, for my part, I care not what becomes of me after this," said Sister Sacristine. "I have lived too long."