* * * * *

When he went down to supper in the great room of the inn, he could not forbear looking round for them.  But only one was to be seen—­the liveried servant who had done the talking.

Robin turned to his neighbour—­a lawyer with whom he had spoken a few times.

“That is a new livery to me,” he said, nodding towards the stranger.

“That?” said the lawyer.  “That?  Why, that is the livery of Mr. Walsingham.  I have seen it in London.”

* * * * *

Towards the end of supper a stir broke out among the servants who sat at the lower end of the room near the windows that looked out upon the streets.  Two or three sprung up from the tables and went to look out.

“What is that?” cried the lawyer.

“It is Mr. Beale going past, sir,” answered a voice.

Robin lifted his eyes with an effort and looked.  Even as he did so there came a trampling of horses’ hoofs; and then, in the light that streamed from the windows, there appeared a company on horseback.  They were too far away from where he sat, and the lights were too confusing, for him to see more than the general crowd that went by—­perhaps from a dozen to twenty all told.  But by them ran the heads of men who had waited at the bridge to see them go by; and a murmuring of voices came even through the closed windows.  It was plain that others besides those who were close to her Grace, saw a sinister significance in Mr. Beale’s arrival.

VI

Robin had hardly reached his room after supper and a little dessert in the parlour, before Merton came in.  He drew his hand out of his breast as he entered, and, with a strange look, gave the priest a folded letter.  Robin took it without a word and read it through.

After a pause he said to the other: 

“Who were those two men that came before supper?  I saw them ride up.”

“There is only one, sir.  He is one of Mr. Walsingham’s men.”

“There were two,” said the priest.

“I will inquire, sir,” said the young man, looking anxiously from the priest’s face to the note and back again.

Robin noticed it.

“It is bad news,” he said shortly.  “I must say no more....  Will you inquire for me; and come and tell me at once.”

When the young man had gone Robin read the note again before destroying it.

“I spoke to Sir A. to-day.  He will have none of it.  He seemed highly suspicious when I spoke to him of you.  If you value your safety more than her Grace’s possible comfort, you had best leave at once.  In any case, use great caution.”

Then, in a swift, hurried hand there followed a post-script: 

“Mr. B. is just now arrived, and is closeted with Sir A. All is over, I think.”

* * * * *

Ten minutes later Merton came back and found the priest still in the same attitude, sitting on the bed.