On another day Robin saw the Archbishop land at Westminster Stairs.

It was a brilliant day of sunshine as he came up the river-bank, and a little crowd of folks at the head of the stairs drew his attention.  Then he heard, out of sight, the throb of oars grow louder; then a cry of command; and, as he reached the head of the stairs and looked over, the Archbishop, with a cloak thrown over his rochet, was just stepping out of the huge gilded barge, whose blue-and-silver liveried oarsmen steadied the vessel, or stood at the salute.  It was a gay and dignified spectacle as he perceived, in spite of his intense antipathy to the sight of a man who, to him, was no better than an usurper and a deceiver of the people.  Dr. Whitgift, too, was no friend to Catholics:  he had, for instance, deliberately defended the use of the rack against them and others, unashamed; and in one particular instance, at least, as Bishop of Worcester, had directed its exercise in the county of Denbigh.  These things were perfectly known, of course, even beyond the seas, to the priests who were to go on the English mission, in surprising detail.  Robin knew even that this man was wholly ignorant of Greek; he looked at him carefully as he came up the stairs, and was surprised at the kindly face of him, thin-lipped, however, though with pleasant, searching eyes.  His coach was waiting outside Old Palace Yard, and Robin, following with the rest of the little crowd, saluted him respectfully as he climbed into it, followed by a couple of chaplains.

As he walked on, he glanced back across the river at Lambeth.  There it lay, then, the home of Warham and Pole and Morton, with the water lapping its towers.  It had once stood for the spiritual State of God in England, facing its partner—­(and sometimes its rival)—­Westminster and Whitehall; now it was a department of the civil State merely.  It was occupied by men such as Dr. Grindal, sequestrated and deprived of even his spiritual functions by the woman who now grasped all the reins of the Commonwealth; and now again by the man whom he had just seen, placed there by the same woman to carry out her will more obediently against all who denied her supremacy in matters spiritual as well as temporal, whether Papists or Independents.

* * * * *

The priest was astonished, as he reached the precincts of Whitehall, to observe the number of guards that were everywhere visible.  He had been warned at Rheims not to bring himself into too much notice, no more than markedly to avoid it; so he did not attempt to penetrate even the outer courts or passages.  Yet it seemed to him that an air of watchfulness was everywhere.  At the gate towards which he looked at least half a dozen men were on formal guard, their uniforms and weapons sparkling brilliantly in the sunshine; and besides these, within the open doors he caught sight of a couple of officers.  As he stood there, a man came out of one of the houses near the gate, and turned towards it:  he was immediately challenged, and presently passed on within, where one of the officers came forward to speak to him.  Then Robin thought he had stood looking long enough, and moved away.