of mingled
stuffs and musk, which even the wide windows set open towards the garden
on the right hand did not wholly obliterate.

For the first time since leaving Charing, Chris's heart quickened. The
slow stages of approach to the formidable presence had begun to do their
work; if he had seen the King at once he would not have been moved; if
he had had an hour longer, he would have recovered from his emotion; but
this swift ordered approach, the suggestiveness of the thick carpets
and furniture, the sight of the silent figures waiting, the musky smell
in the air, all combined now to work upon him; he began to fancy that he
was drawing nearer the presence of some great carrion-beast that had
made its den here, that was guarded by these discreet servitors, and to
which this smooth prelate, in the role of the principal keeper, was
guiding him. Any of these before him might mark the sanctuary of the
labyrinth, where the creature lurked; one might open, and a savage face
look out, dripping blood and slaver.

A page threw back a door at last, and they passed through; but again
there was a check. It was but one more waiting room. The dozen persons,
folks of all sorts, a lawyer, a soldier, and others stood up and bowed
to the prelate.

Then the party sat down near the further door in dead silence, and the
minutes began to pass.

There were cries from the river once or twice as they waited; once a
footstep vibrated through the door, and twice a murmur of voices sounded
and died again.

Then suddenly a hand was laid on the handle from the other side, and the
Archbishop rose, with Sir James beside him.

There was still a pause. Then a voice sounded loud and near, and there
was a general movement in the room as all rose to their feet. The door
swung open and the Garter King-at-Arms came through, bland and smiling,
his puffed silk sleeves brushing against the doorpost as he passed. A
face like a mask, smooth and expressionless, followed him, and nodded to
the Archbishop.

Cranmer turned slightly to his party, again made that little movement,
and went straight through.

Chris followed with Mr. Herries.

CHAPTER XI

THE KING'S HIGHNESS

As Chris knelt with the others, and the door closed behind him, he was
aware of a great room with a tall window looking on to the river on his
left, tapestry-hung walls, a broad table heaped with papers in the
centre, a high beamed ceiling, and the thick carpet under his knees.