omething of a shock that on the next afternoon
he heard the news from Mr. Morris that Mr. Christopher was below and
waiting for him in the parlour.

As he went down he wondered what Chris was doing in London, and what he
himself could say to him. He was expecting Beatrice, too, to call upon
him presently with her maid to give him a message and a bundle of
letters which he had promised to convey to Sir Thomas More. But he was
determined to be kind to his brother.

Chris was standing in his black monk's habit on the other side of the
walnut table, beside the fire-place, and made no movement as Ralph came
forward smiling and composed. His face was thinner than his brother
remembered it, clean-shaven now, with hollows in the checks, and his
eyes were strangely light.

"Why, Chris!" said Ralph, and stopped, astonished at the other's
motionlessness.

Then Chris came round the table with a couple of swift steps, his hands
raised a little from the wide, drooping sleeves.

"Ah! brother," he said, "I have come to bring you away: this is a wicked
place."

Ralph was so amazed that he fell back a step.

"Are you mad?" he said coldly enough, but he felt a twitch of
superstitious fear at his heart.

Chris seized the rich silk sleeve in both his hands, and Ralph felt them
trembling and nervous.

"You must come away," he said, "for Jesu's sake, brother! You must not
lose your soul."

Ralph felt the old contempt surge up and drown his fear. The familiarity
of his brother's presence weighed down the religious suggestion of his
habit and office. This is what he had feared and almost expected;--that
the cloister would make a fanatic of this fantastic brother of his.

He glanced round at the door that he had left open, but the house was
silent. Then he turned again.

"Sit down, Chris," he said, with a strong effort at self-command, and he
pulled his sleeve away, went back and shut the door, and then came
forward past where his brother was standing, to the chair that stood
with its back to the window.

"You must not be fond and wild," he said decidedly. "Sit down, Chris."

The monk came past him to the other side of the hearth, and faced him
again, but did not sit down. He remained standing by the fire-place,
looking down at Ralph, who was in his chair with crossed legs.

"What is this folly?" said Ralph again.

Chris stared down at him a moment in silence.

"Why, why--" he began, and ceased.

Ralph felt himself the ma