The Prior was in his place in the shadow and was leaning over and talking to a man who sat beside him.  Chris could make out little of the latter except that he seemed to be a sort of lawyer or clerk, and was dressed in a dark gown and cap.  He was turning over the leaves of a book as the Prior talked, and nodded his head assentingly from time to time.

When all the monks were seated, there was still a pause.  It was strangely unlike the scene of a tragedy, there in that dark grave room with the quiet faces downcast round the walls, and the hands hidden in the cowl-sleeves.  And even on the deeper plane it all seemed very correct and legal.  There was the representative of the King, a capable learned man, with all the indications of law and order round him, and his two secretaries to endorse or check his actions.  There too was the Community, gathered to do business in the manner prescribed by the Rule, with the deeds of foundation before their eyes, and the great brass convent seal on the table.  There was not a hint of bullying or compulsion; these monks were asked merely to sign a paper if they so desired it.  Each was to act for himself; there was to be no over-riding of individual privileges, or signing away another’s conscience.

Nothing could have been arranged more peaceably.

And yet to every man’s mind that was present the sedate room was black with horror.  The majesty and terror of the King’s will brooded in the air; nameless dangers looked in at the high windows and into every man’s face; the quiet lawyer-like men were ministers of fearful vengeance; the very pens, ink and paper that lay there so innocently were sacraments of death or life.

The Prior ceased his whispering presently, glanced round to see if all were in their places, and then stood up.

His voice was perfectly natural as he told them that this was Dr. Petre, come down from Lord Cromwell to offer them an opportunity of showing their trust and love towards their King by surrendering to his discretion the buildings and property that they held.  No man was to be compelled to sign; it must be perfectly voluntary on their part; his Grace wished to force no conscience to do that which it repudiated.  For his own part, he said, he was going to sign with a glad heart.  The King had shown his clemency in a hundred ways, and to that clemency he trusted.

Then he sat down; and Chris marvelled at his self-control.

Dr. Petre stood up, and looked round for a moment before opening his mouth; then he put his two hands on the table before him, dropped his eyes and began his speech.