For a moment Katharine's eyes scanned the young nun's face, then she said earnestly: "Dear Elizabeth, we will gladly let you share our secret; but be careful, lest you arouse suspicion. Your tongue is quick, and your eyes tell tales." A sudden flush overspread Elizabeth's face. "Do not fear, dear Katharine. You shall learn that I can keep silence." Far into the night the nuns sat plying their needles and talking over their plans, until at midnight the little bell again called them to their devotions. CHAPTER II. DISAPPOINTED HOPES. Again it was evening, some weeks later, when seven nuns sat together in the cell of Magdalene von Staupitz. They were very sad, for the hopes, which they had built on the kindness and mercy of their parents and kinspeople, had been miserably disappointed. Magdalene von Staupitz had indeed received from her brother, the Vicar-General of the Augustinian order, a warm and sympathizing letter; and Katharine had just read aloud another from her brother Hans, full of tender, brotherly love; but both urged their sisters not to leave the convent. Monks, they argued, might safely take such a step, being able to work with their hands for their bread. But how would they, poor, helpless nuns, fare in the world? Their second state would be worse than their first. The other nuns were even more cast down. Their parents had replied with threats and reproaches, and they were so utterly crushed, that it was difficult to console them. Presently, Laneta von Gohlis joined their number, with drooping head and sorrowful eyes. Silently she sat down, and the eyes of all sought the face of Magdalene von Staupitz, who was older than the rest, and whose opinion was accepted with the utmost confidence. She had bidden the sisters to her cell, to take counsel with them as to their further course. Magdalene rose. She was a tall, dignified woman, with a thoughtful face, and a calm manner. "Our first hope has been put to naught, dear Sisters," she began, in her rich full voice, "and it is a bitter lot, to be forsaken by those whom nature has appointed to be our helpers. They bid us remain. But shall we obey men, rather than God, whose call has come to us through the word of His prophet? Our awakened conscience will not suffer us to continue in a place to which our heart has become a stranger; for all our obedience to the rules and exercises of the order is but hypocrisy." Katharine von Bora replied, with quivering lips: "My spirit grieves at the thought of ending my days in this dreary place--dead, while yet I am living. But what can we do?" "Listen to me, sisters--I will tell you my plan," she continued, "since it was Luther, who brought God's Word to us, he is the man to whom we must direct our cry for help--that he may lay it before the throne of God." "Magdalene," cried Katharine, "how dare we? Should such as we burden the great man with our troubles? Has he not far greater and weightier cares resting upon him?"