No, no; for your own sake you bide here in safety till----" "Till you murder me.

Oh! it is in your mind.

Do you remember the angel who spoke with me in the fire and told me my husband was not dead ?" "A lying spirit, then; no angel." "I am not so sure," and again she passed her hand across her eyes, as she had done in that dreadful dawn at Cranwell.

"Well, I prayed to God to help me, and last night that angel came again and spoke in my sleep.
He told me to fear you not at all, my Lord Abbot; however sore my case and however near my death might seem, since God had shaped a stone to drop upon your head.

He showed it me; it was like an axe." Now the old Prioress held up her hands and gasped in horror, but the Abbot leapt from his seat in rage--or was it fear?
"Wanton, you named yourself," he exclaimed; "but I name you witch also, who, if you had your deserts, should die the death of a witch by fire.
Mother Matilda, I command you, on your oath, keep this witch fast and make report to me of all her sorceries.