, when snow was falling thickly outside the
prison, and a low rushlight burned on the table, dimly lighting up the
narrow cell, Margery unexpectedly whispered, "Who is there?"

"I, dear mistress--Alice Jordan."

"Alice Jordan! Where then am I? Or was it all a terrible dream? Is
this Lovell Tower?" Alice's voice trembled as she said, "No."

"What then? Oh! I know now. It is the Tower of London, and the end
cometh nigh."

"Nay, dearest mistress, you fare marvellous better now."

"I mean not the fever-death, good friend, but _the end_--the end of my
weary pilgrimage, the gate of the Happy City. Welcome be the end of the
way, for the way hath been a rough one and a sore! However sharp be the
end, I can bear it now. My soul hath been loosed from earth. I see
nothing now, I want nothing but Christ, and to be with Him in the glory.
Alice, how fareth the child? I dared not to ask afore, since I came
into this place, but I can now."

"I trow he fareth well, good mistress, but of a long season I have not
seen him. My Lord hath sent him unto the care of Dame Lovell."

Margery's eyes, rather than her voice, expressed her pleasure at this
news.

"Hath my Lord my husband been here sithence I took sick?"

"Every day, my Lady; and I trow he sent away the boy for that reason,
lest his coming hither should give him the sickness."

"Knoweth my mother of my sickness?"

"I wis not, my Lady, but I trow that my Lord would tell her, when he
sent the child down with Master Pynson."

"Master Pynson! Hath he been hither?"

"Yea, good my Lady, he came up, I ween, on Saint Luke's Day [October
18], and took back the young master with him."

"What said he when ye told him of my prison, Alice?"

"He covered his face, and wept sore."

Margery turned her face to the wall. "A fiery trial!" she murmured, as
if to herself--"a fiery trial for him as well as me! Is this the way
wherein the Father will draw him? If so, Richard, I can bear it."

The 16th of February came. On the morning of that day, as Lord Marnell
stepped out of his own house into the open air, with the intention of
paying his usual visit to Margery, Abbot Bilson came up, radiant and
smiling, and carrying under his arm a large parchment roll.

"Ah, my very good Lord, well met! Whither away?"

"I purpose to see Madge."

"Ah!" exclaimed the Abbot, who was occupied with an amusement which
comes naturally to men of his disposition, and has been wittily d