"But, in heaven's name, good brother, wherefore should the old lay-sister leave the Convent ?" "They say she was making her way into the city in search of you, my lord; but she hath not reached the Palace." "Any other rumour, Philip ?" "Nay, my lord, none; save that the Prioress is distraught with anxiety concerning the aged nun, and has commanded that the underground way to the Cathedral crypt be searched; though, indeed, the porteress confesses to having let Sister Mary Antony out at the gate." "Rumour again," said the Bishop, "and not a word of truth in it, I warrant.

Deny it, right and left, my good Philip; and say, on my authority, that the Reverend Mother hath most certainly not caused the crypt way to be searched.

I would I could lay hands on the originator of these foolish tales." The Bishop spoke with apparent vexation, but his heart had bounded in the upspring of a great relief.

Was he after all in time to save with outstretched hand that most priceless crystal bowl?
The Bishop dismounted outside the Convent gate.

He took Shulamite's nose into his hand, and spoke gently in her ear.
Then: "Lead her home, Philip," he said, "and surround her with tenderest care.