health. If it were the rack and
the rope only, England would be Catholic, yet, I think."

The old man's face blazed with indignation; it was not often that he so
spoke out his mind. It was very easy to see that he had thought
continually of his son's fall.

"Mistress Manners hath told me the very same thing," said Robin. "She
visited Mr. Thomas in gaol once at least. She said that her heart failed
her altogether there."

Mr. Ludlam smiled.

"I suppose it is so," he said gently, "since you say so. But I think it
would not be so with me. The rack and the rope, rather, are what would
shake me to the roots, unless God His Grace prevailed more than it ever
yet hath with see."

He smiled again.

Robin shook his head sharply.

"As for me--!" he said grimly, with tight lips.

* * * * *

It was a lovely night of stars as the four stepped out of the archway
before going upstairs to the parlour. Behind them stood the square and
solid house, resembling a very fortress. The lights that had been
brought in still shone through the windows, and a hundred night insects
leapt and poised in the brightness.

And before them lay the deep valley--silent now except for the trickle
of the stream; dark (since the moon was not yet risen), except for one
light that burned far away in some farm-house on the other side; and
this light went out, like a closing eye, even as they looked. But
overhead, where God dwelt, all heaven was alive. The huge arch resting,
as it appeared, on the monstrous bases of the moors and hills standing
round this place, like the mountains about Jerusalem, was one shimmering
vault of glory, as if it was there that the home of life had its place,
and this earth beneath but a bedroom for mortals, or for those that were
too weary to aspire or climb. The suggestion was enormously powerful.
Here was this mortal earth that needed rest so cruelly--that must have
darkness to refresh its tired eyes, coolness to recuperate its passion,
and silence, if ever its ears were to hear again. But there was radiance
unending. All day a dome of rigid blue; all night a span of glittering
lights--the very home of a glory that knows no waste and that therefore
needs no reviving: it was to that only, therefore, that a life must be
chained which would not falter or fail in the unending tides and changes
of the world....

A soft breeze sprang up among the tops of the chestnuts; and the sound
was as of t