As they passed up the steps they became aware that the little crowd that had waited at the top was only the detached fringe of a multitude that had assembled further up the slope.  It stretched under the trees as far as they could see to right and left, from the outer wall of the Tower on the one side, to where the rising ground on the left was hidden under the thick foliage in the foreground.  There was a murmur of talking and laughter, the ringing of hand-bells, the cracking of whips and the cries of children.  The backs of the crowd were turned to the steps:  there was plainly something going on higher up the slope, and it seemed somewhat away to the left.

For a moment Chris did not understand, and he turned to Morris.

“What is it?” he asked.

“The scaffold,” said the servant tersely.

At the same moment high above the murmur of the crowd came the sound of heavy resounding blows, as of wood on wood.

Then Chris remembered; and for one moment he sickened as he walked.  His father turned and looked over his shoulder as he went with Beatrice in front, and his eyes were eloquent.

“I had forgotten,” said Chris softly.  “God help him!”

* * * * *

They turned in towards the right almost immediately to the low outer gate of the fortress; and those for the first time remembered that the order they carried was for four only.

Nicholas instantly offered to wait outside and let Morris go in.  Morris flatly refused.  There was a short consultation, and then Nicholas went up to the sentry on guard with the order in his hand.

The man looked at it, glanced at the party, and then turned and knocked with his halberd on the great door behind, and in a minute or two an officer came out in his buff and feathers.  He took the order and ran his eyes over it.

Nicholas explained.

The officer looked at him a moment without answering.

“And the lady too?” he said.

“Why, yes,” said Nicholas.

“The lady wishes—­” then he broke off.  “You will have to see the Lieutenant,” he went on.  “I can let you all through to his lodgings.”

They passed in with a yeoman to conduct them under the low heavy vaulting and through to the open way beyond.  On their right was the wall between them and the river, and on their left the enormous towers and battlements of the inner court.

Chris walked with Morris behind, remembering the last time he was here with the Prior all those years before.  They had walked silently then, too, but for another reason.

They passed the low Traitor’s Gate on their right; Chris glanced at the green lapping water beneath it as he went—­Ralph had landed there—­and turned up the steep slope to the left under the gateway of the inner court; and in a minute or two more were at the door of the Lieutenant’s lodgings.