our for evening service arrived.
Can't you almost think how dark and cold these stones must have seemed
on that winter afternoon, when Becket marched along with majestic
deliberateness through these very cloisters, in by that little door,
and up to the altar. A feeling of dread and terror was everywhere.
Most of the monks had fled to places of hiding, and the Archbishop
found himself alone with his three or four faithful friends, whom he
commanded to unbolt the heavy church doors, which, in a panic, they
had barred. No sooner had the armed men rushed in than the challenge
came from Reginald Fitzurse, as Tennyson gives us the scene:

'Where is the Archbishop, Thomas Becket?'

and Becket's brave answer:

'Here.
No traitor to the King, but Priest of God,
Primate of England. I am he ye seek.
What would ye have of me?'

They responded, 'Your life!' and there immediately followed the
horrible death."

Mrs. Pitt drew a long breath and sighed.

"Such were the deeds of those unenlightened days. These fierce Norman
knights, wishing to gain favor in the eyes of the King, and hearing
him say in a moment of anger, that he wished himself rid of the
troublesome Archbishop, they at once proceeded to Canterbury and
killed him. It was all the outcome of the continual strife and
struggle for power, between the Church and the State."

"What did they do to those three Normans?" demanded John indignantly.

"Nothing. I believe they went free. But Henry II himself tried to
atone for the deed in doing penance by walking barefooted to
Canterbury and Becket's shrine. Come, let's go outside now."

They then wandered about the precincts of the cathedral, pausing by
some lovely, ruined arches which tell of an ancient monastery.
Everywhere stretch smooth lawns, with grand old trees, and here and
there the houses of those connected with the church. Also, very close
by stands the King's School, which was founded by Archbishop Theodore
in the seventh century, 'for the study of Greek,' and later refounded
by Henry VIII. Here that famous Canterbury boy, Christopher Marlowe,
was educated. The school is well worth a visit, if only to see the
beautiful outside Norman stairway.

Mrs. Pitt next led the way down Mercery Lane, at the corner of which
stood The Chequers of Hope, the inn where Chaucer's pilgrims put up.

"You remember the old gate by which we entered the town yesterday,"
sa