e saw, and that was that a great flush dyed the old man's face,
though he sat quiet. Then, as the minister held out the bread, the
squire seemed to recover himself; he put out his fingers quickly, took
the bread sharply and put it into his mouth; and so sat again, until the
minister brought the cup; and this, too, he drank of quickly, and gave
it back.

Then, as the communicants, one by one, took the bread and wine and went
back to their seats, man after man glanced up at the squire.

But the squire sat there, motionless and upright, like a figure cut of
stone.

IV

The court of the manor seemed deserted half an hour before dinner-time.
There was a Sabbath stillness in the air to-day, sweetened, as it were,
by the bubbling of bird-music in the pleasaunce behind the hall and the
high woods beyond. On the strips of rough turf before the gate and
within it bloomed the spring flowers, white and blue. A hound lay
stretched in the sunshine on the hall steps; twitching his ears to keep
off a persistent fly. You would have sworn that his was the only
intelligence in the place. Yet at the sound of the iron latch of the
gate and the squire's footsteps on the stones, the place, so to say,
became alive, though in a furtive and secret manner. Over the half door
of the stable entrance on the left two faces appeared--one, which was
Dick's, sullen and angry, the other, that of a stable-boy, inquiring and
frankly interested. This second vanished again as the squire came
forward. A figure of a kitchen-boy, in a white apron, showed in the dark
doorway that led to the kitchen and hall, and disappeared again
instantly. From two or three upper windows faces peeped and remained
fascinated. Only the old hound remained still, twitching his ears.

All this--though there was nothing to be seen but the familiar personage
of the place, in his hat and cloak and sword, walking through his own
court on his way to dinner, as he had walked a thousand times before.
And yet so great was the significance of his coming to-day, that the
very gate behind him was pushed open by sightseers, who had followed at
a safe distance up the path from the church; half a dozen stood there
staring, and behind them, at intervals, a score more, spread out in
groups, all the way down to the porter's lodge.

The most remarkable feature of all was the silence. Not a voice there
spoke, even in a whisper. The maids at the windows above, Dick glowering
over the half door