een
done for him by the master who sat overhead. Here he, for the moment,
remained, ready for anything--glad to take up the wood and bear it to the
Mount of Sacrifice--content to be carried on in that river of God's Will
to the repose of God's Heart--content to dwell meantime in the echoing
caverns of doubt--in the glancing shadows and lights of an active
life--in his own simple sunlit life in the country--or even to plunge
over the cataract down into the fierce tormented pools in the dark--for
after all the sea lay beyond; and he who commits himself to the river is
bound to reach it.

He heard a step, and the usher stood by him.

"His Grace is ready, Master Norris."

Anthony rose and followed him.

The Archbishop received him with the greatest kindness. As Anthony came
in he half rose, peering with his half-blind eyes, and smiling and
holding out his hands.

"Come, Master Norris," he said, "you are always welcome. Sit down;" and
he placed him in a chair at the table close by his own.

"Now, what is it?" he said kindly; for the old man's heart was a little
anxious at this formal interview that had been requested by this
favourite young officer of his.

Then Anthony, without any reserve, told him all; tracing out the long
tale of doubt by landmarks that he remembered; mentioning the effect
produced on his mind by the Queen's suspension of the Archbishop,
especially dwelling on the arrest, the examination and the death of
Campion, that had made such a profound impression upon him; upon his own
reading and trains of thought, and the conversations with Mr. Buxton,
though of course he did not mention his name; he ended by saying that he
had little doubt that sooner or later he would be compelled to leave the
communion of the Church of England for that of Rome; and by placing his
resignation in the Archbishop's hands, with many expressions of gratitude
for the unceasing kindness and consideration that he had always received
at his hands.

There was silence when he had finished. A sliding panel in the wall near
the chapel had been pushed back, and the mellow music of Dr. Tallis
pealed softly in, giving a sweet and melodious background, scarcely
perceived consciously by either of them, and yet probably mellowing and
softening their modes of expression during the whole of the interview.

"Mr. Norris," said the Archbishop at last, "I first thank you for the
generous confidence you have shown towards me: and I shall put