ced to change his room, and was to sleep in Mr. Melville's
for the present; so her Grace would have to get on without him as well
as she could. There would be no Popish mass to-morrow, then, in the
oratory that he had heard was made upstairs.... He marvelled at the
superstition that made this a burden....

At a quarter before six a trumpet blew, and presently the tall windows
of the hall across the court from him began to kindle. That was for her
Grace's supper to be served. At five minutes to six another trumpet
sounded, and M. Landet, the Queen's butler, hurried out with his white
rod to take his place for the entrance of the dishes. Finally, through
the ground-floor window at the foot of the Queen's stair, the man caught
a glimpse of moving figures passing towards the hall. That would be her
Grace going in state to her supper with her women; but, for the first
time, without either priest to say grace or steward to escort her. He
saw, too, the couple of guards under the inner archway come to the
salute as the little procession came for an instant within their view;
and Mr. Newrins, the butler of the castle, stop suddenly and pull off
his cap as he was hurrying in to be in time for the supper of the
gentlemen that was served in the keep half an hour after the Queen's.

* * * * *

Meanwhile, ten miles away, along the Uppingham and Leicester track, rode
a young man through the dark.

III

Sunday, too, passed as usual.

At half-past eight the bells of the church pealed out for the morning
service, and the village street was thronged with worshippers and a few
soldiers. At nine o'clock they ceased, and the street was empty. At
eleven o'clock the trumpets sounded to announce change of guard, and to
tell the kitchen folk that dishing-time was come. Half an hour later
once more the little procession glinted a moment through the
ground-floor window of the Queen's stair as her Grace went to dinner.
(She was not very well, the cooks had reported, and had eaten but little
last night.) At twelve o'clock she came out again and went upstairs; and
at the same time, in Leicester, a young man, splashed from head to foot,
slipped off a draggled and exhausted horse and went into an inn,
ordering a fresh horse to be ready for him at three o'clock.

And so once more the sun went down, and the little rituals were
performed, and the guards were changed, and M. Landet, for the last time
in his life (th