there
was only panic, and in the other nothing at all. He rolled on to his
feet, catching at the table to steady himself.

'Write what you will,' he called, 'to these intents and purposes. Or
stay to write--I will send you a letter much more good from the upper
rooms.'

Cranmer suddenly stretched out, with a timid pitifulness, his white
hands. But, rolling his huge shoulders, like a hastening bear, the King
went over the rushes. He pulled the heavy door to with such a vast force
that the latch came again out of the hasp, and the door, falling slowly
back and quivering as if with passion, showed them his huge legs
mounting the little staircase.

* * * * *

A long silence fell in that dim room. The Archbishop's lips moved
silently, the spy's glance went, level, along his parchment. Suddenly he
grinned mirthlessly and as if at a shameless thought.

'The Queen will write the letter his Grace shall send us,' he said.

Then their eyes met. The one glance, panic-stricken, seeing no issue,
hopeless and without resource, met the other--crafty, alert, fox-like,
with a dance in it. The glances transfused and mingled. Lascelles
remained upon his knees as if, stretching out his right knee behind him,
he were taking a long rest.

II

It was almost within earshot of these two men in their dim cell that the
Queen walked from the sunlight into shadow and out again. This great
terrace looked to the north and west, and, from the little hillock,
dominating miles of gently rising ground, she had a great view over
rolling and very green country. The original builders of the Castle of
Pontefract had meant this terrace to be flagged with stone: but the
work had never been carried so far forward. There was only a path of
stone along the bowshot and a half of stone balustrade; the rest had
once been gravel, but the grass had grown over it; that had been
scythed, and nearly the whole space was covered with many carpets of
blue and red and other very bright colours. In the left corner when you
faced inwards there was a great pavilion of black cloth, embroidered
very closely with gold and held up by ropes of red and white. Though
forty people could sit in it round the table, it appeared very small,
the walls of the castle towered up so high. They towered up so high, so
square, and so straight that from the terrace below you could hardly
hear the flutter of the huge banner of St George, all red and white