here, my lord, one minute.'

With this address, John ushered them upstairs into the state apartment,
which, like many other things of state, was cold and comfortless. Their
own footsteps, reverberating through the spacious room, struck upon
their hearing with a hollow sound; and its damp and chilly atmosphere
was rendered doubly cheerless by contrast with the homely warmth they
had deserted.

It was of no use, however, to propose a return to the place they had
quitted, for the preparations went on so briskly that there was no time
to stop them. John, with the tall candlesticks in his hands, bowed them
up to the fireplace; Hugh, striding in with a lighted brand and pile
of firewood, cast it down upon the hearth, and set it in a blaze; John
Grueby (who had a great blue cockade in his hat, which he appeared
to despise mightily) brought in the portmanteau he had carried on his
horse, and placed it on the floor; and presently all three were busily
engaged in drawing out the screen, laying the cloth, inspecting the
beds, lighting fires in the bedrooms, expediting the supper, and making
everything as cosy and as snug as might be, on so short a notice. In
less than an hour's time, supper had been served, and ate, and cleared
away; and Lord George and his secretary, with slippered feet, and legs
stretched out before the fire, sat over some hot mulled wine together.

'So ends, my lord,' said Gashford, filling his glass with great
complacency, 'the blessed work of a most blessed day.'

'And of a blessed yesterday,' said his lordship, raising his head.

'Ah!'--and here the secretary clasped his hands--'a blessed yesterday
indeed! The Protestants of Suffolk are godly men and true. Though others
of our countrymen have lost their way in darkness, even as we, my lord,
did lose our road to-night, theirs is the light and glory.'

'Did I move them, Gashford?' said Lord George.

'Move them, my lord! Move them! They cried to be led on against the
Papists, they vowed a dreadful vengeance on their heads, they roared
like men possessed--'

'But not by devils,' said his lord.

'By devils! my lord! By angels.'

'Yes--oh surely--by angels, no doubt,' said Lord George, thrusting his
hands into his pockets, taking them out again to bite his nails, and
looking uncomfortably at the fire. 'Of course by angels--eh Gashford?'

'You do not doubt it, my lord?' said the secretary.

'No--No,' returned his lord. 'No. Why should I? I suppose it