sed within. . . . Your men, my lord, are leading away
the steed." The Knight returned to his place. "Brave beast! Methinks
they would do well to mix his warm mash with ale."

Symon of Worcester made no reply.

He sat erect, with folded hands, a slight flush upon his cheeks,
listening for footsteps which must be drawing near.

They came.

The door, at the far end of the hall, opened.

The gaunt Chaplain stood in the archway, making obeisance.

"Well?" said the Bishop, dispensing with the usual formalities.

"My lord, your messenger has returned, and requests an audience without
delay."

"Bid him enter," said the Bishop, gripping the arms of the chair, and
leaning forward.

The Chaplain, half-turning, beckoned with uplifted hand; then stood
aside, as rapid feet approached.

A young man, clad in a brown riding-suit, dusty and travel-stained,
appeared in the doorway. Not pausing for any monkish salutations or
genuflections, he strode some half-dozen paces up the hall; then swung
off his hat, stopped short with his spurs together, and bowed in
soldierly fashion toward the great fireplace.

Thrusting his hand into his breast, he drew out a packet, heavily
sealed.

"I bring from Rome," he said--and his voice rang through the
chamber--"for my Lord Bishop of Worcester, a letter from His Holiness
the Pope."

The Knight sprang to his feet. The Bishop rose, a noble figure in
crimson and gold, and the dignity of his high office straightway
enveloped him.

In complete silence, he stretched out his right hand for the letter.

The dusty traveller came forward quickly, knelt at the Bishop's feet,
and placed the missive in his hands.

As the Bishop lifted the Pope's letter and, stooping his head, kissed
the papal seal, the Knight kneeled on one knee, his hand upon his
sword-hilt, his eyes bent on the ground.

So for a moment there was silence. The sovereignty of Rome, stretching
a mighty arm across the seas, asserted its power in the English hall.

Then the Bishop placed the letter upon a small table at his right hand,
seated himself, and signed to both men to rise.

"How has it fared with you, Roger?" he asked, kindly.

"Am I in time, Reverend Father?" exclaimed the youth, eagerly. "I
acted on your orders. No expense was spared. I chartered the best
vessel I could find, and had set sail within an hour of galloping into
the port. We made a good passage, and being fortunate in securing
relays of horse