By this time they had passed round the great altar, and through a door in the screen, which separated the choir from the lady chapel behind. Immediately facing them was a large sort of flat pilaster, covered half way up, as was all that part of the building, with old oak panelling, in many places ornamented with rude sculptures. By a very simple contrivance the panelling, with which the pilaster was covered, was made to revolve upon hinges, concealed in the angle, where it joined the wall. The abbess found some difficulty indeed, amongst all the heads of dragons, and monkeys, and cherubim, and devils, with which the woodwork was richly but grotesquely ornamented, to discover that which served as a sort of handle. When she had found it, however, the whole of the lower part of the panelling moved back easily enough, and a door was seen behind on the face of the pilaster. It was low and narrow, suffering only one person to pass at once, and that with a bowed head. It was locked also at the moment; but the abbess took the key from her girdle, and the bishop opened the door easily with his own hands. "And now, father, God speed you on your way," cried the abbess, "for I must go no further. There is the beacon bell ringing, which shows that these knaves are in sight. Here, take the lamp with you, Iola. The passage is long and dark." "Heaven's benison be upon you, sister," said the bishop, "and may God protect you from all evil consequences of your Christian charity towards me. Well have you repaid the little kindness I once showed your brother in times long past, and leave me a debt of gratitude besides." "Nay, nay, I beseech you be quick, dear lord," said the lady; and, passing through the doorway, the prelate and his fair guide found themselves in a small vaulted chamber, with the end of a long dark passage open before them. As soon as they had entered, the door was closed, and they could hear the screen of panelling which covered it roll back into its place. Iola led the way on through the passage before them; and the bishop, after gazing round the vaulted room for an instant, followed with a slower step and in silence. At the end of some fifteen or sixteen yards, a small descending flight of stairs presented itself; and Iola ran lightly down, holding the lamp at the bottom, till the bishop descended. He gazed on her beautiful face and figure with a fatherly smile, as, lifting the lamp above her head, she stood with the light falling on her fair forehead and graceful limbs. "And so thy name is Iola, my fair daughter," said the bishop, when he reached her side; "and thou art the niece of our good sister the abbess. Which of her brothers is thy father?" "She has but one still living, my lord," replied Iola. "My father is no more." "Then you must be the daughter of Richard St. Leger Lord Calverly," said the bishop; "I knew him well."