Next, he had been right in believing himself watched in the shepherd’s hut, and followed down from it.  This hiding of his in the hills, the discovery of him in the hiding-hole, together with the vestments—­these two things were the heaviest pieces of testimony against him.  More remote testimony might be brought forward from his earlier adventures—­his presence at Fotheringay, his recognition by my lord’s man.  But these were, in themselves, indifferent.

His resolutions were few and simple.

He would behave himself quietly in all ways:  he would make no demand to see anyone; since he knew that whatever was possible would be done for him by Marjorie.  He would deny nothing and assert very little if he were brought before the magistrates.  Finally, he would say, if he could, a dry mass every day; and observe the hours of prayer so far as he could.  He had no books with him of any kind.  But he could pray God for fortitude.

* * * * *

Then he knelt down on the earth floor and said his first prayer in prison; the prayer that had rung so often in his mind since Mary herself had prayed it aloud on the scaffold; and Mr. Bourgoign had repeated it to him.

“As Thy arms, O Christ, were extended on the Cross; even so receive me into the arms of Thy mercy, and blot out all my sins with Thy most precious Blood.”

CHAPTER VII

I

There was a vast crowd in the market-place at Michaelmas to see the judges come—­partly because there was always excitement at the visible majesty of the law; partly because the tale of one at least of the prisoners had roused interest.  It was a dramatic tale:  he was first a seminary priest and a Derbyshire man (many remembered him riding as a little lad beside his father); he was, next, a runaway to Rheims for religion’s sake, when his father conformed; third, he had been taken in the house of Mistress Manners, to whom, report said, he had once been betrothed; last, he had been taken by his father himself.  All this furnished matter for a quantity of conversation in the taverns; and it was freely discussed by the sentimental whether or no, if the priest yielded and conformed, he would yet find Mistress Manners willing to wed him.

* * * * *

Signs of the Armada rejoicings still survived in the market-place as the judges rode in.  Streamers hung in the sunshine, rather bedraggled after so long, from the roof and pillars of the Guildhall, and a great smoke-blackened patch between the conduit and the cross marked where the ox had been roasted.  There was a deal of loyal cheering as the procession went by; for these splendid personages on horseback stood to the mob for the power that had repelled the enemies of England; and her Grace’s name was received with enthusiasm.  Behind the judges and their