That was all that was to be seen, until half an hour later, a few minutes before the drawbridge was raised for the night, the steward came back, crossed the court once more and vanished into the entry opposite.

It was about this time that the young man had ridden out from the New Inn.

Then the sun went down; the flambeaux were lighted beneath the two great entrances—­in the towered archway across the moat, and the smaller vaulted archway within, as well as one more flambeau stuck into the iron ring by each of the four more court-doors, and lights began to burn in the windows round about.  The man at Sir Amyas’ staircase looked across the court and idly wondered what was passing in the rooms opposite on the first floor where the Queen was lodged.  He had heard that the priest had been forced to change his room, and was to sleep in Mr. Melville’s for the present; so her Grace would have to get on without him as well as she could.  There would be no Popish mass to-morrow, then, in the oratory that he had heard was made upstairs....  He marvelled at the superstition that made this a burden....

At a quarter before six a trumpet blew, and presently the tall windows of the hall across the court from him began to kindle.  That was for her Grace’s supper to be served.  At five minutes to six another trumpet sounded, and M. Landet, the Queen’s butler, hurried out with his white rod to take his place for the entrance of the dishes.  Finally, through the ground-floor window at the foot of the Queen’s stair, the man caught a glimpse of moving figures passing towards the hall.  That would be her Grace going in state to her supper with her women; but, for the first time, without either priest to say grace or steward to escort her.  He saw, too, the couple of guards under the inner archway come to the salute as the little procession came for an instant within their view; and Mr. Newrins, the butler of the castle, stop suddenly and pull off his cap as he was hurrying in to be in time for the supper of the gentlemen that was served in the keep half an hour after the Queen’s.

* * * * *

Meanwhile, ten miles away, along the Uppingham and Leicester track, rode a young man through the dark.

III

Sunday, too, passed as usual.

At half-past eight the bells of the church pealed out for the morning service, and the village street was thronged with worshippers and a few soldiers.  At nine o’clock they ceased, and the street was empty.  At eleven o’clock the trumpets sounded to announce change of guard, and to tell the kitchen folk that dishing-time was come.  Half an hour later once more the little procession glinted a moment through the ground-floor window of the Queen’s stair as her Grace went to dinner.  (She was not very well, the cooks had reported, and had eaten but little last night.) At twelve o’clock she came out again and went upstairs; and at the same time, in Leicester, a young man, splashed from head to foot, slipped off a draggled and exhausted horse and went into an inn, ordering a fresh horse to be ready for him at three o’clock.