But, be the reason what it may, Reverend Mother has locked her door, and sees nobody this even." After which old Antony proceeded to polish the outside of the Reverend Mother's door panels.
Sister Mary Rebecca lifted her knuckles to rap; but old Antony's not over clean clout was pushed each time between Sister Mary Rebecca's tap, and the woodwork.
Muttering concerning the report she would make to the Prioress in the morning, Sister Mary Rebecca went to her cell.
When all was quiet, when every door was closed, the old lay-sister crept into the cloisters and, crouching in an archway just beyond the flight of steps leading to the underground way, watched and waited.
Storm clouds were gathering again, black on a purple sky.

The after-glow in the west had faded.

It was dark in the cloisters.
Thunder growled in the distance; an owl hooted in the Pieman's tree.
Mary Antony's old bones ached sorely, and her heart failed her.

She had sat so long in cramped positions, and she had not tasted food since the mid-day meal.
The Devil drew near, as he is wont to do, when those who have fasted long, seek to keep vigil.
"The Reverend Mother will not return," he whispered.

"What wait you for ?" "Be off!" said Mary Antony.