There were two points which might well have
attracted her attention. One was that it was red with the blood
of the sentinel whom I had stabbed in the tree. That alone might
count for little, as the knife was as familiar as the breviary to
the monks of Saragossa.
But on my forefinger I wore a heavy gold ring --the gift of a
certain German baroness whose name I may not mention. It shone
brightly in the light of the altar lamp. Now, a ring upon a
friar's hand is an impossibility, since they are vowed to
absolute poverty.
I turned quickly and made for the door of the chapel, but the
mischief was done. As I glanced back I saw that the Mother
Superior was already hurrying after me. I ran through the chapel
door and along the corridor, but she called out some shrill
warning to the two guards in front. Fortunately I had the
presence of mind to call out also, and to point down the passage
as if we were both pursuing the same object. Next instant I had
dashed past them, sprang into the cell, slammed the heavy door,
and fastened it upon the inside.
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