There on the little lawn before the guest-house were half a dozen white and lavender patches of colour that showed where the crocuses would star the gra.s.s presently; and from the high west front of the immense church, and from beneath the eaves of the offices to the right the birds were practising the s.n.a.t.c.hes of song that would break out with full melody a month or two later.
In spite of all that threatened, Chris was in an ecstasy of happiness.
It rushed down on him, overwhelmed and enveloped him; for he knew now that he had been faithful. The flood of praise in the church had dwindled to a thread; but it was still the _opus Dei_, though it flowed but from two hearts; and the pulse of the heavenly sacrifice still throbbed morning by morning, and the Divine Presence still burned as unceasingly as the lamp that beaconed it, in the church that was now all but empty of its ministers. There were times when the joy that was in his heart trembled into tears, as when last night he and his friend had sung the song to Mary; and the contrast between the two poor voices, and the roar of pet.i.tion that had filled the great vaulting a year before, had suddenly torn his heart in two.
But now the poignant sorrow had gone again; and as he walked here alone on this March evening, with the steady hills about him and the flushing sky overhead, and the sweet life quickening in the gra.s.s at his feet, an extraordinary peace flooded his soul.
There came a knocking at the gate, and the jangle of a bell; and he went across quickly and unbarred the door.
Mr. Morris was there on horseback, a couple of saddlebags strapped to his beast; and a little group of loungers stood behind.
Chris smiled with delight, and threw the door wide.
The servant saluted him and then turned to the group behind.
"You have no authority," he said, "as to my going in."
Then he rode through; and Chris barred the gate behind him, glancing as he did so at the curious faces that stared silently.
Mr. Morris said nothing till he had led his horse into the stable. Then he explained.
"One of the fellows told me, sir, that this was the King"s house now; and that I had no business here."
Chris smiled again.
"I know we are watched," he said, "the servants are questioned each time they set foot outside."
Mr. Morris pursed his lips.
"How long shall you be here, sir?" he asked.
"Until we are turned out," said Chris.
It was true, as he had said, that the house was watched. Ever since the last monk had left there had been a man or two at the gate, another outside the church-door that opened towards the town; and another yet again beyond the stream to the south of the priory-buildings. Dom Anthony had told him what it meant. It was that the authorities had no objection to the two monks keeping the place until it could be dealt with, but were determined that nothing should pa.s.s out. It had not been worthwhile to send in a caretaker, for all the valuables had been removed either by the Visitors or by the Prior when he went at night.
There were only two sets of second-best altar vessels left, and a few other comparatively worthless utensils for the use of the church and kitchen. The great relics and the jewelled treasures had gone long before. Chris had wondered a little at the house being disregarded for so long; but the other monk had reminded him that such things as lead and bra.s.s and bells were beyond the power of two men to move, and could keep very well until other more pressing business had been despatched elsewhere.
Mr. Morris gave him news of his father. It had not been the true fever after all, and he would soon be here; in at any rate a week or two. As regarded other news, there was no tidings of Mr. Ralph except that he was very busy. Mistress Margaret was at home; no notice seemed to have been taken of her when she had been turned out with the rest at the dissolution of her convent.
It was very pleasant to see that familiar face about the cloister and refectory; or now and again, when work was done, looking up from beyond the screen as the monks came in by the sacristy door. Once or twice on dark evenings when terror began to push through the rampart of the will that Chris had raised up, it was rea.s.suring too to know that Morris was there, for he bore with him, as old servants do, an atmosphere of home and security, and he carried himself as well with a wonderful naturalness, as if the relief of beleaguered monks were as ordinary a duty as the cleaning of plate.
March was half over now; and still no sign had come from the world outside. There were no guests either to bring tidings, for the priory was a marked place and it was well not to show or receive kindliness in its regard.
Within, the tension of nerves grew acute. Chris was conscious of a deepening exaltation, but it was backed by horror. He found himself now smiling with an irrepressible internal joy, now twitching with apprehension, starting at sudden noises, and terrified at loneliness.
Dom Anthony too grew graver still; and would take his arm sometimes and walk with him, and tell him tales, and watch him with tender eyes. But in him, as in the younger monk, the strain tightened every day.
They were singing Compline together one evening with tired, overstrained voices, for they had determined not to relax any of the chant until it was necessary. Mr. Morris was behind them at a chair set beyond the screen; and there were no others present in church.
The choir was perfectly dark (for they knew the office by heart) except for a glimmer from the sacristy door where a lamp burned within to light them to bed. Chris"s thoughts had fled back to that summer evening long ago when he had knelt far down in the nave and watched the serried line of the black-hooded soldiers of G.o.d, and listened to the tramp of the psalmody, and longed to be of their company. Now the gallant regiment had dwindled to two, of which he was one, and the guest-master that had received him and encouraged him, the other.
Dom Anthony was the officiant this evening, and had just sung l.u.s.tily out in the dark that G.o.d was about them with His shield, that they need fear no nightly terror.
The movement flagged for a moment, for Chris was not attending; Mr.
Morris"s voice began alone, _A sagitta volante_--and then stopped abruptly as he realised that he was singing by himself; and simultaneously came a sharp little crash from the dark altar that rose up in the gloom in front.
A sort of sobbing breath broke from Chris at the sudden noise, and he gripped his hands together.
In a moment Dom Anthony had taken up the verse.
_A sagitta volante_--"From the arrow that flieth by day, from the thing that walketh in darkness--" Chris recovered himself; and the office pa.s.sed on.
As the two pa.s.sed out together towards the door, Dom Anthony went forward up the steps; and Chris waited, and watched him stoop and pa.s.s his hands over the floor. Then he straightened himself, came down the steps and went before Chris into the sacristy.
Under the lamp he stopped, and lifted what he carried to the light. It was the little ivory crucifix that he had hung there a few weeks ago when the last cross of precious metal had disappeared with the Sub-Prior. It was cracked across the body of the figure now, and one of the arms was detached at the shoulder and swung free on the nail through the hand.
Dom Anthony looked at it, turned and looked at Chris; and without a word the two pa.s.sed out into the cloister and turned up the dormitory stairs.
To both of them it was a sign that the end was at hand.
On the following afternoon Mr. Morris ran in to Chris"s carrel, and found him putting the antiphonary and his implements up into a parcel.
"Master Christopher," he said, "Sir James and Sir Nicholas are come."
As he hurried out of the cloister he saw the horses standing there, spent with fast travelling, and the two riders at their heads, with the dust on their boots, and their clothes disordered. They remained motionless as the monk came towards them; but he saw that his father"s face was working and that his eyes were wide and anxious.
"Thank G.o.d," said the old man softly. "I am in time. They are coming to-night, Chris." But there was a questioning look on his face.
Chris looked at him.
"Will you take the horses?" said his father again. "Nick and I are safe."
Chris still stared bewildered. Then he understood; and with understanding came decision.
"No, father," he said.
The old man"s face broke up into lines of emotion.
"Are you sure, my son?"
Chris nodded steadily.
"Then we will all be together," said Sir James; and he turned to lead his horse to the stable.
There was a little council held in the guest-house a few minutes later.