So she went, and there presently was met by the Flounder, who was supposed to be asleep, but had followed her, a person of whom the half-witted Bridget was much afraid.
"What are you doing with my babe, old fool ?" she screeched at her, thrusting her fat face to within an inch of the nun's.

"You'll let it fall and I shall be blamed.

Give me the angel or I will twist your nose for you.

Give it me, I say, and get you gone." In her fear and flurry old Bridget obeyed and departed at a run.

Then, recovering herself a little, or drawn by some instinct, she returned, hid herself in a clump of lilac bushes and watched.
Presently she saw the Flounder, after glancing about to make sure that she was alone, enter the chapel, carrying the child, and heard her bolt the door after her.