d he then turned his horse and made off to Overfield. His
horse was spent when he arrived there; but he had changed horses and
came on immediately with Sir James, to warn the monks of the approach of
the men, and to give them an opportunity of making their escape if they
thought it necessary.

"Who were the leaders?" asked the elder monk.

Nicholas shook his head.

"They were in front; I dared not ride up."

But his sturdy face looked troubled as he answered, and Chris saw his
father's lips tighten. Dom Anthony drummed softly on the table.

"There is nothing to be done," he said. "We wait till we are cast out."

"You cannot refuse admittance?" questioned Sir James.

"But we shall do so," said the other tranquilly; "at least we shall not
open."

"But they will batter the door down."

"Certainly," said the monk.

"And then?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"I suppose they will put us out."

There was absolutely nothing to be done. It was absurd to dream of more
than formal resistance. Up in the North in more than one abbey the
inmates had armed themselves, and faced the spoilers grimly on the
village green; but that was where the whole country side was with them,
and here it was otherwise.

They talked a few minutes longer, and decided that they would neither
open nor resist. The monks two were determined to remain there until
they were actually cast out; and then the responsibility would rest on
other shoulders than theirs.

It was certain of course that by this time to-morrow at the latest they
would have been expelled; and it was arranged that the two monks should
ride back to Overfield, if they were personally unmolested, and remain
there until further plans were decided upon.

The four knew of course that there was a grave risk in provoking the
authorities any further, but it was a risk that the two Religious were
determined to run.

They broke up presently; Mr. Morris came upstairs to tell them that food
was ready in one of the parlours off the cloister; and the two laymen
went off with him, while the monks went to sing vespers for the last
time.

* * * * *

An hour or two later the two were in the refectory at supper. The
evening was drawing in, and the light in the tall windows was fading.
Opposite where Chris sat (for Dom Anthony was reading aloud from the
pulpit), a row of coats burned in the glass, and he ran his eyes over
them. They had been set there, he r