'Poor maid! But it was such a chase as never you did watch. On and
on went the heron, the falcon ever mounting higher and higher, till
she was but a speck in the clouds, and Tam Falconer shouting and
galloping, mad lest she should go down the wind. Methought she would
have been back to Norroway, the foul jade!'

'Did you capture her, Mother?' asked Anne.

'Ay, she pounced at last, and well-nigh staked herself on the heron's
beak! But we had a long ride, and were well-nigh at the Tyne before
we had caught her. Full of pranks, but a noble hawk, as I shall
write to my brother by the next messenger that comes our way. I call
it a hawk worth her meat that leads one such a gallop.'

'What would you have done, reverend Mother, if she had crossed the
Border?' asked Bertram.

'Ridden after her. No Scot would touch a Lady Prioress on the
chase,' responded Mother Agnes, looking not at all like a reverend
Mother. 'Now, poor Anne, thou must be hungered. Thou shalt eat with
Master Bertram and me in the refectory anon. Take her, Sister Joan,
and make her ready to break her fast with us.'

Anne quickly went to her chamber. It was not quite a cell, the bare
stone walls being hung with faded woollen tapestry, the floor covered
with a deerskin, the small window filled with dark green glass, a
chest serving the double purpose of seat and wardrobe, and further, a
bed hung with thick curtains, in which she slept with the lay Sister,
Joan, who further fetched a wooden bowl of water from the fountain in