The Sister does not cry out, and call upon those who are present to
avenge the insult--even had she been a Moorish lady, the demand for
punishment would not come from her, but from those of the sterner sex
near-by.

Instead, she stands there as if waiting for him to speak--stands there
like a statue in black.

John at once apologizes for his rudeness--he is already sorry for what
he has done.

"Madame, pardon. I believed you were one very dear to me, one who wears
the insignia of your order, one for whom I have searched far and near,
half the world over--my mother."

"It was a bold act, young sir, but far be it from me to denounce you.
Tell me, how would you know this mother?" she asks, in a thick voice.

"She is known as Sister Magdalen--perhaps you know her--she may even be
staying at the same convent as yourself," eagerly.

"I know one Sister Magdalen, a sweet, quiet woman, lately from Malta,
whither she went to consult the head of our order."

Her words arouse John.

"It is she. If you would only take me to her, I would at once be rid of
all these doubts and fears."

"Would you come?"