There was a rustle of paper, and then a whisper within.
"Well, my dear?"
Something shifted in the bright square, and it grew gloomy as a face pressed up against the bars. Then again it shifted and the light shone out, and a flutter of whispers followed.
"Really, madam--" began Ralph; but there was the jingle of keys, and the sound of panting, and almost immediately a bolt shot back, followed by the noise of a key turning. A chorus of whispers broke out and a scurry of footsteps, and then the door opened inwards and a little old woman stood there in a black habit, her face swathed in white above and below.
The others had vanished.
"I am very sorry, Mr. Torridon, to have kept you at the door; but we have to be very careful. Will you bring your horse in, sir?"
Ralph was a little abashed by the sudden development of the situation, and explained that he had only come to announce his arrival; he had supposed that there would not be room at the nunnery.
"But we have a little guest-house here," announced the old lady with a dignified air, "and room for your horse."
Ralph hesitated; but he was tired and hungry.
"Come in, Mr. Torridon. You had better dismount and lead your horse in.
Sister Anne will see to it."
"Well, if you are sure--" began Ralph again, slipping a foot out of the stirrup.
"I am sure," said the Abbess; and stood aside for him and his beast to pa.s.s.
There was a little court, lighted by a single lamp burning within a window, with the nunnery itself on one side, and a small cottage on the other. Beyond the latter rose the roofs of an outhouse.
As Ralph came in, the door from the nunnery opened again, and a lay sister came out hastily; she moved straight across and took the horse by the bridle.
"Give him a good meal, sister," said the Abbess; and went past Ralph to the door of the guest-house.
"Come in, Mr. Torridon; there will be lights immediately."
In half an hour Ralph found himself at supper in the guest-parlour; a bright fire crackled on the hearth, a couple of candles burned on the table, and a pair of old darned green curtains hung across the low window.
The Abbess came in when he had finished, dismissed the lay-sister who had waited on him, and sat down herself.
"You shall see your sister to-morrow, Mr. Torridon," she said, "it is a little late now. I have sent the boy up to the village for your servant; he can sleep in this room if you wish. I fear we have no room for more."
Ralph watched her as she talked. She was very old, with hanging cheeks, and solemn little short-sighted eyes, for she peered at him now and again across the candles. Her upper lip was covered with a slight growth of dark hair. She seemed strangely harmless; and Ralph had another p.r.i.c.k of compunction as he thought of the news he had to give her on the morrow. He wondered how much she knew.
"We are so glad it is you, Mr. Torridon, that have come to visit us. We feared it might be Dr. Layton; we have heard sad stories of him."
Ralph hardened his heart.
"He has only done his duty, Reverend Mother," he said.
"Oh! but you cannot have heard," exclaimed the old lady. "He has robbed several of our houses we hear--even the altar itself. And he has turned away some of our nuns."
Ralph was silent; he thought he would at least leave the old lady in peace for this last night. She seemed to want no answer; but went on expatiating on the horrors that were happening round them, the wicked accusations brought against the Religious, and the Divine vengeance that would surely fall on those who were responsible.
Finally she turned and questioned him, with a mingling of deference and dignity.
"What do you wish from us. Mr. Torridon? You must tell me, that I may see that everything is in order."
Ralph was secretly amused by her air of innocent a.s.surance.
"That is my business, Reverend Mother. I must ask for all the books of the house, with the account of any sales you may have effected, properly recorded. I must have a list of the inmates of the house, with a statement of any corrodies attached; and the names and ages and dates of profession of all the Religious."
The Abbess blinked for a moment.
"Yes, Mr. Torridon. You will allow me of course to see all your papers to-morrow; it is necessary for me to be certified that all your part is in order."
Ralph smiled a little grimly.
"You shall see all that," he said. "And then there is more that I must ask; but that will do for a beginning. When I have shown you my papers you will see what it is that I want."
There was a peal at the bell outside; the Abbess turned her head and waited till there was a noise of bolts and unlocking.
"That will be your man, sir. Will you have him in now, Mr. Torridon?"
Ralph a.s.sented.
"And then he must look at the horses to see that all is as you wish."
Mr. Morris came in a moment later, and bowed with great deference to the little old lady, who enquired his name.
"When you have finished with your man, Mr. Torridon, perhaps you will allow him to ring for me at the door opposite. I will go with him to see the horses."
Mr. Morris had brought with him the ma.s.s of his master"s papers, and when he had set these out and prepared the bedroom that opened out of the guest-parlour, he asked leave to go across and fetch the Abbess.
Ralph busied himself for half-an-hour or so in running over the Articles and Injunctions once more, and satisfying himself that he was perfect in his business; and he was just beginning to wonder why his servant had not reappeared when the door opened once more, and Mr. Morris slipped in.
"My horse is a little lame, sir," he said. "I have been putting on a poultice."
Ralph glanced up.
"He will be fit to travel, I suppose?"
"In a day or two, Mr. Ralph."
"Well; that will do. We shall be here till Monday at least."
Ralph could not sleep very well that night. The thought of his business troubled him a little. It would have been easier if the Abbess had been either more submissive or more defiant; but her air of mingled courtesy and dignity affected him. Her innocence too had something touching in it, and her apparent ignorance of what his visit meant. He had supped excellently at her expense, waited on by a cheerful sister, and well served from the kitchen and cellar; and the Reverend Mother herself had come in and talked sensibly and bravely. He pictured to himself what life must be like through the nunnery wall opposite--how brisk and punctual it must be, and at the same time homely and caressing.
And it was his hand that was to pull down the first prop. There would no doubt be three or four nuns below age who must be dismissed, and probably there would be a few treasures to be carried off, a processional crucifix perhaps, such as he had seen in Dr. Layton"s collection, and a rich chalice or two, used on great days. His own sister too must be one of those who must go. How would the little old Abbess behave herself then? What would she say? Yet he comforted himself, as he lay there in the clean, low-ceilinged room, staring at the tiny crockery stoup gleaming against the door-post, by recollecting the principle on which he had come. Possibly a few innocents would have to suffer, a few old hearts be broken; but it was for a man to take such things in his day"s work.