"She is no more a woman than you are!" said Mother Bursar indignantly. "It is that very Jean Dôle to whom I gave a warm pair of hose only last winter. Did I not know him on the instant? I almost wish I had given him a lodging, and locked him up in the Knight's tower; but it is better as it is. Now my children we must work fast—there is no time to lose! Here, Lucille, help me fold these cloths."
"But Jean Dôle is in the employ of the Count!" said I, working while I talked and finding, despite the imminent danger, a certain enjoyment in the bustle. "Can he be, also, in the employ of the robbers?"
"Robbers!" said Mother Bursar contemptuously. "We know where the robbers come from. Take care, child, fold that straight. Perhaps they will find themselves outwitted after all."
By nine o'clock, the principal treasures of the Church—the great silver vases, the candlesticks, and images, and so forth, were all removed to the lower vestibule; and carried from thence to safe hiding places known to Mother Superior and Mother Prudentia.
Then the sisters were assembled in the community-room, for what we all felt might be the last time. Mother Superior addressed a few words to us, exhorting us to firmness, constancy, and trust, and we all kissed her hand and each other. The priest entered, bearing the host, in its magnificent receptacle, blazing with jewels, and we all prostrated ourselves before it. Then he passed out of the room, and we followed in order as in an ordinary procession; we went through the upper hall and descended the great stairs to the lower floor.
Then instead of seeking the door by which Amabel and myself had descended to the vaults, we went down to the basement by a staircase of which I had never, till then, known the existence. So true it is, as I have said before, that one may live in a convent a long time, yes, even for many years, and yet know very little about it. We passed through a long hall, with doors opening here and there, and then there was a pause, while Mother Prudentia unlocked and opened a massive door, the existence of which I should never have suspected, for it looked exactly like a piece of the wall. Through this we passed one by one, and it was then closed after us.
The lights were now trimmed anew and lanterns distributed among us. We were warned to follow exactly, and not to look either to right or left, but to keep our eyes fixed on our leader. Why, I don't know, unless that our minds might not be distracted by the sight of the labyrinth we were threading. At last we reached the end of our dismal journey. We found ourselves in a kind of suite of apartments, drier and more commodious than could have been expected in such a place. There must have been some communication with the outer world, for the air, though damp and chill, was not foul nor oppressive.
In the first vault were stored our provisions, clothes, and other such matters which we had saved. In the next were beds hastily made of straw mattresses and all the warm coverings that could be mustered. A little side-room was fitted up as a chapel, with an altar, on which was placed the usual furniture, while a small lamp hung before it. On this altar the priest deposited the host. It was time for our last evening service, and we went through it as usual, though it must be confessed that some of the sweet voices quivered a little as they chanted the responses. It was not till now that we observed one of our number to be missing.
"Where is Sister Filomena?" asked two or three voices.
"She is in a place of safety, or so I trust," answered the Superior calmly. "Pray for her, my sisters."