ouse; I will
provide a conductor; and there is nothing that would resolve your doubts
so quickly."

Anthony was interested in this; and asked further details as to what
these were.

"It is too late," said Mr. Buxton, "to tell you to-night. I will write
from Stanfield."

Mr. Buxton came downstairs with Anthony to see him on to his horse, and
they parted with much good-will; and Anthony rode home with a heavy and
perplexed heart to Lambeth.

* * * *

He spent a few days more pondering; and then determined to lay his
difficulties before the Archbishop; and resign his position if Grindal
thought it well.

He asked for an interview, and the Archbishop appointed an hour in the
afternoon at which he would see him in Cranmer's parlour, the room above
the vestry which formed part of the tower that Archbishop Cranmer had
added to Lambeth House.

Anthony, walking up and down in the little tiled cloisters by the creek,
a few minutes before the hour fixed, heard organ-music rolling out of the
chapel windows; and went in to see who was playing. He came in through
the vestry, and looking to the west end gallery saw there the back of old
Dr. Tallis, seated at the little positive organ that the late Archbishop
had left in his chapel, and which the present Archbishop had gladly
retained, for he was a great patron of music, and befriended many
musicians when they needed help--Dr. Tallis, as well as Byrd, Morley and
Tye. There were a few persons in the chapel listening, the Reverend Mr.
Wilson, one of the chaplains, being among them; and Anthony thought that
he could not do better than sit here a little and quiet his thoughts,
which were nervous and distracted at the prospect of his coming
interview. He heard voices from overhead, which showed that the
Archbishop was engaged; so he spoke to an usher stationed in the vestry,
telling him that he was ready as soon as the Archbishop could receive
him, and that he would wait in the chapel; and then made his way down to
one of the return stalls at the west end, against the screen, and took
his seat there.

This February afternoon was growing dark, and the only lights in the
chapel were those in the organ loft; but there was still enough daylight
outside to make the windows visible--those famous windows of Morton's,
which, like those in King's Chapel, Cambridge, combined and interpreted
the Old and New Testaments by an ingenious system of t