H. C. Bailey

“ For five centuries there have been men to swear they had seen the Nun appear, an awsome sight in the river mist, jumping from the grey ruins down to the swift dark stream to her death. And that is strange also, for the Nun never died. She never even lived. But she jumped.
And now we will go back to the beginning, which is not the maid, as you suppose, nor even the man. It is a hat of green velvet, and a windy March morning, and a Surrey down, and a light-hearted mare. Harry of Silvermere was riding that mare. Now, the mare Ethelfrida desired to gallop. ”

“ Oh, my hat!" said the creature, as Harry came nearer, pointing with a slim, white hand to the fateful hat that lay caught in the gnarled roots of a yew tree. Now, it is upon record that Harry of Silvermere had said to his friend, Sir Bertram, only the night before—
"Women? Bah! Why did God make women?" He was young, you know.
But we have it upon the word of the Lady Elaine, that now (though no one was there to see but a woman) Harry rode at that hat at a gallop, vaulted out of the saddle, caught the hat neatly, and sprang to the saddle again without checking Ethelfrida's stride. ”

“ He said that a fiend entered into the convent in nun's attire, had striven vainly to tempt the nuns, and at last, confronting the good Father Clement, had cast himself in despair down to the river. He confessed with sorrow that the fiend was still alive—sometimes in angry moments hinted that he lived at Silvermere. At that climax, Ermyntrude always laughed.
But the tale has flourished in spite of her, and many have sworn that their eyes have seen the Nun jump down through the mist. I doubt. For I think that Harry of Silvermere has better things to do than come back to this earth to jump. ”

“ Elaine gave a sigh—a long, thrilling sigh.
"Ah! the blessed saints!" said she. Ermyntrude, fallen a little behind, was heard to chuckle. Father Clement smiled benignly. "And now let me sign the parchments and have done," said Elaine. Father Clement invoked a blessing on her good mind and bade her follow.
Now, the nunnery at Newstead had a terrace hanging over the river whereof you may still see fragments. Along this terrace came the party, and into the outer muniment-room at its end. There, with much jangling of keys, Father Clement brought forth a parchment. ”

“ And then the laughter rang louder.
"Indeed, Father Clement, I fear you are much wrong," said Elaine.
"Much wrong—aye, much wrong, thou lying knave!" cried Sir Harry. "Wouldst tell the maid she was beggar, to make her come to convent—knave! lying knave? Wouldst have had her sign this parchment that gives thy convent her land, making the child think 'twas the vows of the order? ah, knave!" Father Clement grew something pale. "Feu d'enfer!" stormed Sir Harry. "And darest come to me now? Tête du diable! where be my men?" ”

“ A STORY of wondrous things is this, wondrous above all else in the world—a man and a maid. It is likewise the story of the Nun of Newstead, who was likewise somewhat wondrous, and a great grief to many of the devout, inasmuch as some called her a miracle, and others the fiend. Also the devout were much troubled by Ermyntrude, the sub-prioress, who, to her last hour, never heard the tale of the Nun without grievous and worldly laughter. ”

“ Also that he came back to the creature on the hill-top, and sprang down and fell on his knee, and so with low obeisance served her. He had discovered, perhaps, why God made women.
A low curtsy rewarded him, a sweet voice said: "I am sorry, sir." ”