herry, the father and son with Nicholas
in the stern, and the lawyer facing them on the cross-bench; they had
been terribly silent as they walked down to the stairs; had stood
waiting there without a word being spoken but by herself, as the wherry
made ready; and she had talked hopelessly, desperately, to relieve the
tension. Then they had gone off. Sir James had looked back at her over
his shoulder as the boat put out; and she had seen his lips move. She
had watched them grow smaller and smaller as they went, and then when a
barge had come between her and them, she had gone home alone to wait for
their return, and the tidings that they would bring.

And she, in a sense was responsible for it all. If it had not been for
her visit to Ralph, he would have handed the papers over to the
authorities; he would be at liberty now, no doubt, as were Cromwell's
other agents; and, as she thought of it, her tortured heart asked again
and again whether after all she had done right.

She went over the whole question, as she sat there, looking out over the
river towards Lambeth, fingering the shutter, glancing now and again at
the bent old figure of her aunt in her tall chair, and listening to the
rip of the needle through the silk. Could she have done otherwise? Was
her interference and advice after all but a piece of mad chivalry,
unnecessary and unpractical?

And yet she knew that she would do it again, if the same circumstances
arose. It would be impossible to do otherwise. Reason was against it;
Mr. Herries had hinted as much with a quick lifting of his bushy
eyebrows as she had told him the story. It would have made no difference
to Cromwell--ah! but she had not done it for that; it was for the sake
of Ralph himself; that he might not lose the one opportunity that came
to him of making a movement back towards the honour he had forfeited.

But it was no less torture to think of it all, as she sat here. She had
faced the question before; but now the misery she had watched during
these last three weeks had driven it home. Day by day she had seen the
old father's face grow lined and haggard as the suspense gnawed at his
heart; she had watched him at meals--had seen him sit in bewildered
grief, striving for self-control and hope--had seen him, as the light
faded in the parlour upstairs, sink deeper into himself; his eyes hidden
by his hand, and his grey pointed beard twitching at the trembling of
his mouth. Once or twice she had m