“But that,” continued he, “was all a ruse. She was waiting her opportunity to slip inside the curtain, eaten up with preternatural and unwomanly curiosity. But one afternoon, as it was getting dusk, I went into the choir stalls to get a psalter that I needed, and thought I heard a curious sound coming from out the sacred place. I could not understand it. I hid myself in the shadow of the carved screen, suspecting theft, and recognising sacrilege. A little later, out came this woman, carrying a light. I know not where she got it from. But seeing me, she ran all down the nave at quickest speed, I following.” “You caught her?” “The devil helped her. She escaped; and at the door she turned right round and put her tongue right out at me, and said: ‘Did you ever know a woman who couldn’t talk if she wanted to?’ You have the story in a nutshell.” “And you never reported it?” “Three hours afterwards. I was as one imprisoned in a living grave for three long weary hours.” “But did you not tell?” “Yes; and the Great High Priest would not believe me. He laughed. That was the beginning of all his troubles. He was too lax, they say. Under the new _régime_ there will be greater strictness.” And he sighed. “Why, she’s a witch, a witch—an impudent, underbred thing,” said Susiebelle excitedly. “Have you told Mr. Barringcourt?” “I am not personally acquainted with him. But last night, from the way he spoke, one might almost have thought he was excusing her. Of course, there was no putting out of tongues or giving pert answers last night; she spoke as meek and as mildly as you please.” “If it hadn’t have come from the mouth of a clergyman I wouldn’t have believed it of her,” said Miss Groggerton, glad to have such a reliable source of information. “But—but” continued Susiebelle, “isn’t there a severe punishment for going inside the curtain, for a woman?” “It used to be to have her tongue torn out.” “Who will do it? Who will do it?” “No one will do it nowadays. The biggest punishment would be a fine. Pawn a few jewels; it’s done in no time.” “She doesn’t worship the Serpent at all; she worships that little blinking frog,” said Miss Groggerton. “Well, I’ve got my eye on her. And if there are any heathenish practices going on, you may be sure I will report them before long,” said he, and soon afterwards got up to go. That same night, when all the wear and tear and excitement of the day were over, and all the cabs had rattled home, and all the theatres been closed, the new Great High Priest sat in an arm-chair in Mr. Barringcourt’s study, whilst the owner sat in his accustomed one beside the table.