She sat up, and a little vitality came back to her face; for a moment she almost looked as she had looked in the early summer.

“To-night?” she said.  “And when—­”

“He will not be brought before my lords for three or four days yet.  There is a number of cases to come before his.  It will give us those two or three days, at least, to prepare our case.”

He spoke heavily and dejectedly.  Up to the present he had been utterly refused permission to see his client; and though he knew the outlines of the affair well enough, he knew very little of the thousand details on which the priest would ask his advice.  It was a hopeless affair, it appeared to the lawyer, in any case.  And now, with this last piece of tidings, he knew that there was, indeed, nothing to be said except words of encouragement.

He listened with the same heavy air to Mistress Manners as she said a word or two as to what must be spoken of to Robin.  She was very quiet and collected, and talked to the point.  But he said nothing.

“What is the matter, sir?” she said.

He lifted his eyes to hers.  There was still enough light from the windows for him to see her eyes, and that there was a spark in them that had not been there just now.  And it was for him to extinguish it....  He gripped his courage.

“I have had worse news than all,” he said.

Her lips moved, and a vibration went over her face.  Her eyes blinked, as at a sudden light.

“Yes?”

He put his hand tenderly on her arm.

“You must be courageous,” he said.  “It is the worst news that ever came to me.  It concerns one who is come from London to-day, and rode in with my lords.”

She could not speak, but her great eyes entreated him to finish her misery.

“Yes,” he said, still pressing his hand on to her arm.  “Yes; it is Mr. Topcliffe who is come.”

* * * * *

He felt the soft muscles harden like steel....  There was no sound except the voices talking in the square and the noise of footsteps across the pavements.  He could not look at her.

Then he heard her draw a long breath and breathe it out again, and her taut muscles relaxed.

“We ... we are all in Christ’s hands,” she said....  “We must tell him.”

III

It appeared to the girl as if she were moving on a kind of set stage, with every movement and incident designed beforehand, in a play that was itself a kind of destiny—­above all, when she went at last into Robin’s cell and saw him standing there, and found it to be that in which so long ago she had talked with Mr. Thomas FitzHerbert....