h shook; he could see her white teeth clenched;
and a shiver went over her. He took one step forward, but stopped again,
for the black eyes shone through the passion that swayed her, as keen
and remorseless as ever.

He dropped on to his knees at the table and buried his face in his
hands. He knew nothing now but that he had lost her.

That was her voice speaking now, as steady as her eyes; but he did not
hear a word she said. Words were nothing; they were not so much as those
cries from the street, that shrill boy's voice over the way; not so much
as the sighing crackle from the hearth where he had caused a fire to be
lighted lest she should feel cold.

She was still speaking, but her voice had moved; she was no longer by
the fire. He could feel the warmth of the fire now on his hands. But he
dared not move nor look up; there was but one thing left for him--that
he had lost her!

That was her hand on the latch; a breath of cold air stirred his hair;
and still she was speaking. He understood a little more now; she knew it
all--his doings--what he had said last night--and there was not one word
to say in answer. Her short lashing sentences fell on his defenceless
soul, but all sense was dead, and he watched with a dazed impersonalness
how each stroke went home, and yet he felt no pain or shame.

She was going now; a picture stirred on the wall by the fire as the wind
rushed in through the open street door.

* * * * *

Then the door closed.

PART II

THE FALL OF LEWES

CHAPTER I

INTERNAL DISSENSION

The peace was gone from Lewes Priory. A wave had broken in through the
high wall from the world outside with the coming of the Visitors, and
had left wreckage behind, and swept out security as it went. The monks
knew now that their old privileges were gone with the treasures that
Layton had taken with him, and that although the wave had recoiled, it
would return again and sweep them all away.

Upon none of them had the blow fallen more fiercely than on Chris; he
had tried to find peace, and instead was in the midst of storm. The high
barriers had gone, and with them the security of his own soul, and the
world that he thought he had left was grinning at the breach.

It was piteous to him to see the Prior--that delicate, quiet prelate who
had held himself aloof in his dignities--now humbled by the shame of his
exposure in the chapter-house. The courage that Bishop F