By What Authority?

tlying hamlets to tell the story. Very little work was done that day, for the estate was disorganised; and the men had little heart for work; and there were groups all day on the gr

poken in answer; and Thomas, the Rectory boy, was stopped as he went across the green in the evening and threatened and encouraged until he told of the stroke on the church-bell, and the Rectory key, and the littl

een all day; and after dark had fallen the name "Judas" was cried in at the Rectory door half a dozen

he few horsemen and carriages that came to inquire after the truth of the report from the Catholic houses round, to the effect that it was true that Sir Nicholas

e was well and happy, that he sent his wife his dear love, and that she should have a letter from him before nightfall. He rode straight to the Hall with the news, full of chastened delight at his official importance, just pausing to tell a group that was gathered on the green that all was well so far, and was shown up to Lady Maxwell's own p

religion had prayed with them, and talked a little; and Lady Maxwell had asked that Isabel mi

he people may show their anger against the R

ell looke

e Rector is not so much to blame as his wife. It was she who sent for the magistrate and gave

n him?" asked

id, "but he will not see me; h

open his note; but at least he consented to help them

s so," said th

thing to grieve us; tell them that nothing would pain either of us more than that a

ely if there seemed to be any disturbance or threatening of it; but the men were very quiet. Mr. Musgrave was there, she saw, sitting with his pipe, on the stocks, and Piers, the young Irish bailiff, was standing near; they all were silent as the girl came up, and

it was very strange to Isabel to know that it was here that the arrest had taken place; the floor

t her and keep her talking; but she always relapsed after a minute or two into silence again, with long glances round the room, at the Vern

ts owner who fingered his cross-bow or the reins of his horse all day, and his beads in the evening; and how strange that an old man like Sir Nicholas, who knew the world, and had as much sense apparently as any one else, should be willing to sacrifice home and property an

nd its cool green squares of lawn, and the glowing beds at the sides. Over to her right the cloister court ran out, with its two rows of windows, bedrooms above with galleries beyond, as she knew, and parlours and cloisters below; the pleasant tinkle of the fountain in the court came faintly to her ears across the caw of the rooks about the elms and

the musings of the old monk John Audeley in his sickness, and as t

sick in

bey here

made with

ht not sle

prayers my s

loud to He

Lord, it

take thy

I wot that

all lords

ou dost is

Thee was n

ere of wo

hts and tender fragrant sorrows soothed the torn throbbing soul; and Isabel saw the old wrinkled hand rise to her forehead, and the embroidery, with the needle

e as the sunset contracted on the western horizon to a few vivid streaks of glory; the room

was full of shadows and the image of the Holy Mother and Child had darkened into obscurity in their niche. The world was silent now too; the rooks we

r side of the house. Isabel started up; surely there was anger in that low roar from the village; was it this that

p towards the door; but Mistress Margaret wa

ndow listening. Had she been mistaken then? The roar had sunk into silence for a moment; and there came back the quick beat of a horse's hoofs outside on the short drive between the gatehouse and the Hall. They were right, then; and even as she thought it, and as the wife that w

at is that?" she

n in the house below; and Lady Maxwell rose up and put

and giving it to her, "the

he window now, for light to read he

and Isabel close beside her, saw her turn resolutely from th

saw him as he rode through-th

e letter to her lips and kissed it, and thrust it d

rgaret,"

ar swelled up from the green. There was laughter and hooting mixed with that growl of anger; but even the laughter was fierce. The gate

e hoofs of the courier's horse rang on the cobbles of the stable-yard as they came down towards the gatehouse

r at the end of the drive. Before them lay the dark turf, swarming with black figures towards the lower end; and a ceaseless roar came from them

e came the furious scream of a man, and the crowd parted, as three men came reeling out together, two of them trying with all their power to restrain a fighting, kicking, plunging man in long black skirts

rion-I am c

Mistress Margaret, that it was the Rector. But the two men were after him and caught

ere came a sudden silence, rent by a high terrible shriek and a splash; followed in a momen

and Piers on the other keeping the crowd back, and a dripping figure moaning and sobbing in the trampled mud at Lady Maxwell's feet. There was silence enough now, and the ring of faces

. I thought you loved my husband; and-and me." Her voice broke, and

that had crawled up, and laid hold tenderly

dear," Isabel h

and silk splashed and spattered with mud, and her white hands black with it, and on the other the old nun, each with an arm thrown round the woman in the centre who staggered and sobbed and leaned against them as she went, with her long hair and her draggled clothes streaming with liquid mud every step she took. Once they stopped, at a group of three men. The Rector was sitting up, in his torn dusty cassock, and Isab

said to the men who were with

house, Isabel stepped forwar

The two torchbearers went on and stood by the steps as the three ladies ascended, leaving black footmarks as they went. The door was open and faces of serva

little group accompanying him too; he, too, could hardly walk alone

f and pass his arm through the Rector's, and bend down his handsome kindly fa

dly spoke a word until he and Isabel turned of

he said, "father and I-

softly, "she only