she saw my cowl
and its hanging sleeves, and an antiphoner in my hands; and then her
face grew dreadful and afraid again, and she cried out and fell forward;
and Dr. Bocking led us out from the chapel."

There was a long silence as Chris ended and leaned back again, taking
up a bunch of raisins. Ralph sighed once as if wearied out, and his
mother put her hand on his sleeve. Then at last Sir James spoke.

"You have heard the story," he said, and then paused; but there was no
answer. At last the chaplain spoke from his place.

"It is all as Chris said," he began, "I was there and heard it. If the
woman is not from God, she is one of Satan's own; and it is hard to
think that Satan would tell us of the sacraments and bid us use them
greedily, and if she is from God--" he stopped again.

The knight nodded at him.

"And you, sweetheart?" he said to his wife.

She turned to him slowly.

"You know what I think," she said. "If Chris believes it, he must go, I
suppose."

"And you, Ralph?"

Ralph raised himself in his chair.

"Do you wish me to say what I think?" he asked deliberately, "or what
Chris wishes me to say? I will do either."

Chris made a quick movement of his head; but his father answered for
him.

"We wish you to say what you think," he said quietly.

"Well, then," said Ralph, "it is this. I cannot agree with the father. I
think the woman is neither of God nor Satan; but that she speaks of her
own heart, and of Dr. Bocking's. I believe they are a couple of
knaves--clever knaves, I will grant, though perhaps the woman is
something of a fool too; for she deceives persons as wise even as Mr.
Carleton here by speaking of shrift and the like; and so she does the
priests' will, and hopes to get gain for them and herself. I am not
alone in thinking this--there are many in town who think with me, and
holy persons too."

"Is Master Cromwell one of them?" put in Chris bitterly.

Ralph raised his eyebrows a little.

"There is no use in sneering," he said, "but Master Cromwell is one of
them. I suppose I ought not to speak of this; but I know you will not
speak of it again; and I can tell you of my own knowledge that the Holy
Maid will not be at St. Sepulchre's much longer."

His father leaned forward.

"Do you mean--" he began.

"I mean that His Grace is weary of her prophesyings. It was all very
well till she began to meddle with matters of State; but His Grace will
have none of that. I can tell you