ountry-folk running, that they too
might see. The steps of the Cross were already crowded with sightseers.

Yet, to outward sight, the little procession was ordinary enough. First
came three or four of the town-guard in livery, carrying their staves;
then half a dozen sturdy fellows; then a couple of dignified
gentlemen--one of them she knew: Mr. Roger Columbell, magistrate of the
town--and then, walking all alone, the figure of a man, tall and thin, a
little rustily, but very cleanly dressed in a dark suit, who carried his
head stooping forward as if he were looking on the ground for something,
or as if he deprecated so much notice.

Marjorie saw no more than this clearly. She did not notice the group of
men that followed in case protection were needed for the agent of the
Council, nor the crowd that swirled behind. For, as the solitary figure
came beneath the windows she recognised the man whom she had seen once
in the Tower of London.

"God smite the man!" growled a voice in her ear. "That is Topcliffe,
going to the prison, I daresay."

And as Marjorie turned her pale face back, she saw the face of kindly
Mr. Bassett, suffused and convulsed with fury.

CHAPTER IX

I

"Marjorie! Marjorie! Wake up! the order hath come. It is for to-night."

Very slowly Marjorie rose out of the glimmering depths of sleep into
which she had fallen on the hot August afternoon, sunk down upon the arm
of the great chair that stood by the parlour window, and saw Mrs. Thomas
radiant before her, waving a scrap of paper in her hand.

Nearly two months were passed; and as yet no opportunity had been given
to the prisoner's wife to visit him, and during that time it had been
impossible to go back into the hills and leave the girl alone. The heat
of the summer had been stifling, down here in the valley; a huge plague
of grasshoppers had ravaged all England; and there were times when even
in the grass-country outside Derby, their chirping had become
intolerable. The heat, and the necessary seclusion, and the anxiety had
told cruelly upon the country girl; Marjorie's face had perceptibly
thinned; her eyes had shadows above and beneath; yet she knew she must
not go; since the young wife had attached herself to her altogether,
finding Alice (she said) too dull for her spirits. Mr. Bassett was gone
again. There was no word of a trial; although there had been a hearing
or two before the magistrates; and it was known that Topcliffe
con