found themselves surrounded by men on horses, plainly gathered there for the purpose, with a magistrate in the midst.  Their names had been demanded, and, upon Mr. Thomas’ hesitation, they had been told that their names were well known, and a warrant was produced, on a charge of recusancy and of aiding her Grace’s enemies, drawn out against Thomas FitzHerbert, and he had been placed under arrest.  Further, Mrs. FitzHerbert had been told she must not enter the town with the party, but must go either before them or after them, which she pleased.  She had chosen to go first, and had been at the windows of the inn in time to see her husband go by.  There had been no confusion, she said; the townsfolk appeared to know nothing of what was happening until Mr. Thomas was safely lodged in the ward.

Then she burst out crying again, lamenting the horrible state of the prison, as it had been described to her, and demanding to know where God’s justice was in allowing His faithful servants to be so tormented and harried....

* * * * *

Marjorie watched her closely.  She had met her once at Babington House, when she was still Elizabeth Westley, but had thought little or nothing of her since.  She was a pale little creature, fair-haired and timorous, and had now a hunted look of misery in her eyes that was very piteous to see.  It was plain they had done right in coming:  this woman would be of little service to her husband.

Then when Alice had said a word or two, Marjorie began her questions.

“Tell me,” she said gently, “had you no warning of this?”

The girl shook her head.

“Not beyond that which came from yourself,” she said; “and we never thought—­”

“Hath Mr. Thomas had any priests with him lately?”

“We have not had one at Norbury for the last six months, whilst we were there, at least.  My husband said it was better not, and that there was a plenty of places for them to go to.”

“And you have not heard mass during that time?”

The girl looked at her with tear-stained eyes.

“No,” she said.  “But why do you ask that?  My husband says—­”

“And when was the first you heard of Topcliffe?  And what have you heard of him?”

The other’s face fell into lines of misery.

“I have heard he is the greatest devil her Grace uses.  He hath authority to question priests and others in his own house.  He hath a rack there that he boasts makes all others as Christmas toys.  My husband—­”

Marjorie patted her arm gently.

“There! there!” she said kindly.  “Your husband is not in Topcliffe’s house.  There will be no question of that.  He is here in his own county, and—­”

“But that will not save him!” cried the girl.  “Why—­”

“Tell me” interrupted Marjorie, “was Topcliffe with the men that took Mr. Thomas?”

The other shook her head.