'twere easier to tend the holy Ladies in their cells, than the Poor, in
humble homes, outside the Convent walls, tossing on beds of rushes.'

"'Tush, fool!' snarled Mother Sub-Prioress. "'The Poor are not easily
made ill.'

"Tush indeed! I tell thee, little bright-eyed man, old Antony, can
'tush' to better purpose! That night there were strong purging herbs
in the broth of Mother Sub-Prioress. Yet she did but keep her bed for
one day. Like the Poor, she is not easily made ill! . . . Well, have
thy way; only peck not my fingers, Master Robin, or I will have thee
flogged through the Tything at the cart-tail, as was done to a certain
pieman, whose history I will now relate.

"Once upon a time, when Sister Mary Antony was young, and fair to look
upon--Nay, wink not thy naughty eye----"

At that moment came the sound of a key turning slowly in the lock of
the door at the bottom of the steps leading from the crypt to the
cloister.




CHAPTER III

THE PRIORESS PASSES

A key turned slowly in the lock of the oaken door at the entrance to
the underground way.