The screen was
gone; part lay beneath the tower; part had been burned; Christ's Cross
held up the roof of the shed where the minister kept his horse; the
three figures had been carted off to Derby to help swell the Protestant
bonfire. The projecting stoup to the right of the main door had been
broken half off.... In place of these glories there stood now, in the
body of the church, before the chancel-steps, a great table, such as the
rubrics of the new Prayer-Book required, spread with a white cloth, upon
which now rested two tall pewter flagons of wine, a flat pewter plate as
great as a small dish, and two silver communion-cups--all new. And to
one side of this, in a new wainscoted desk, waited worthy Mr. Barton for
the coming of his squire--a happy man that day; his face beamed in the
spring sunlight; he had on his silk gown, and he eyed, openly, the door
through which his new patron was to come.
* * * * *
Then, without sound or warning, except for the footsteps on the
paving-stones and the sudden darkening of the sunshine on the floor,
there came the figure for which all looked. As he entered he lifted his
hand to his head, but dropped it again; and passed on, sturdy, and (you
would have said) honest and resolute too, to his seat behind the
reading-desk. He was met by silence; he was escorted by silence; and in
silence he sat down.
Then the waiting crowd surged in, poured this way and that, and flowed
into the benches.
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