isfaction to be gained
there. The utmost he had wrung from him was a promise that he would see
him again, and hear what he had to say.

Then Nicholas had to sup and hear the whole story from the beginning;
and Chris left his father to tell it, and went up with Beatrice to
arrange about rooms.

Matters were soon settled with the old lady; Nicholas and Chris were to
sleep in one room, and Sir James in an another. Two servants only could
be accommodated in the house; the rest were to put up at the inn.
Beatrice went off to give the necessary orders.

Mistress Jane Atherton and Chris had a few moments together before the
others came up.

"A sore heart," said the old lady again, "but a glad one too. Beatrice
has told me everything."

"I am thankful too," said Chris softly. "I wonder if my father
understands."

"He will, father, he will. But even if he does not--well, God knows
all."

It was evident when Sir James came upstairs presently that he did not
understand anything yet, except that Beatrice thought that Ralph had
behaved well.

"But it is to my Lord Essex--who has been the worker of all the
mischief--that my son is faithful. Is that a good thing then?"

"Why, yes," said Chris. "You would not have him faithless there too?"

"But would he not be on God's side at last, if he were against
Cromwell?"

The old man was still too much bewildered to understand explanations,
and his son was silent.

* * * * *

Chris could not sleep that night, and long after Nicholas lay deep in
his pillow, with open mouth and tight eyes, the priest was at the window
looking out over the river where the moon hung like a silver shield
above Southwark. The meadows beyond the stream were dim and colourless;
here and there a roof rose among trees; and straight across the broad
water to his feet ran a path of heaving glory, where the strong ripple
tossed the silver surface that streamed down upon it from the moon.

London lay round him as quiet as Overfield, and Chris remembered with a
stir at his heart his moonlight bathe all those years ago in the lake at
home, when he had come back hot from hunting and had slipped down with
the chaplain after supper. Then the water had seemed like a cool restful
gulf in the world of sensation; the moon had not been risen at first;
only the stars pricked above and below in air and water. Then the moon
had come up, and a path of splendour had smitten the surface int