Thereafter her heart had been torn by grief and terror.
When they kneeled together, before the Madonna, with uplifted faces, Mary Antony had crawled forward and peeped.

She had seen them kneeling--a noble pair--had seen the Prioress catch at his hand and clasp it; then, crawling back had fallen prostrate, overwhelmed, a huddled heap upon the floor.
The ringing of the Refectory bell had roused her from her stupor in time to hear the impassioned appeal of the Knight, as he kneeled alone before the Virgin's shrine.
Then, the Knight and the Prioress both being gone, Mary Antony had arisen, lifted her chopper with hands that trembled, and now stood with distraught mien, surveying the empty cell.
At length it dawned upon her that she and her weapon were locked into the Reverend Mother's cell; she, who had been most explicitly bidden to go to the kitchens and to remain there.

It had been a sense of the enormity of her offence in having disobeyed the Reverend Mother's orders which, unconsciously, had caused her to stifle all ejaculations and move without noise, lest she should be discovered.
Yet now her first care was not for her own predicament, but for the two noble hearts, of whose tragic grief she had secretly been a witness.
Her eye fell on the Madonna, calmly smiling.
She tottered forward, kneeling where the Prioress had knelt.
"Holy Mother of God," she whispered, "teach him that she cannot do this thing!" Then, moving along on her knees to where the Knight had kneeled: "Blessed Virgin!" she cried, "shew her that she cannot leave him desolate!" Then shuffling back to the centre, and kneeling between the two places: "Sweetest Lady," she said, "be pleased to sharpen the old wits of Mary Antony." Looking furtively at the Madonna, she saw that our Lady smiled.

The blessed Infant, also, looked merry.

Mary Antony chuckled, and took heart.