eard a fierce authoritative voice scream out
an order, and saw that one of the gentlemen in front was at the door,
his rapier protruded before him; and understood the man[oe]uvre. It was
necessary that the mad crowd should be kept back.

The tumult died and became a murmur; and then one by one a file of
figures came through. In the hand of each was an instrument of some
kind, a pick or a bludgeon; and it was evident that it was these who had
broken in the gate.

Chris counted them mechanically as they streamed through. There seemed
to be a dozen or so.

Then again the man who had guarded the door as they came through slipped
back through the opening; and they heard his voice beginning to harangue
the mob.

But a moment later they had ceased to regard him; for from the archway,
with the torch-bearer beside him, advanced the tall man with the
riding-cane who had been the first to enter; and as he emerged into the
court Chris recognised his brother.

* * * * *

He was in a plain rich riding-suit with great boots and plumed hat. He
walked with an easy air as if certain of himself, and neither quickened
nor decreased his pace as he saw the monks and the gentlemen standing
there.

He halted a couple of yards from them, and Chris saw that his face was
as assured as his gait. His thin lips were tight and firm, and his eyes
with a kind of insolent irony looked up and down the figures of the
monks. There was not the faintest sign of recognition in them.

"You have given us a great deal of labour," he said, "and to no purpose.
We shall have to report it all to my Lord Cromwell. I understand that
you were the two who refused to sign the surrender. It was the act of
fools, like this last. I have no authority to take you, so you had best
be gone."

Dom Anthony answered him in an equally steady voice.

"We are ready to go now," he said. "You understand we have yielded to
nothing but force."

Ralph's lips writhed in a smile.

"Oh! if that pleases you," he said. "Well, then--"

He took a little step aside, and made a movement towards the gate where
there sounded out still an angry hum beneath the shouting voice that was
addressing them.

Chris turned to his father behind, and the voice died in his throat, so
dreadful was that face that was looking at Ralph. He was standing as
before, rigid it seemed with grief or anger; and his grey eyes were
bright with a tense emotion; his lips too wer