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Benson, Robert Hugh, 1871-1914

"Come Rack! Come Rope!"


Mistress Alice glanced at her, smiling.
"You are tired," she said; "we are nearly there. That is St. Paul's on
the right."
Ah! that gave her peace....
They were turning off from the main street just as her friend spoke; but
she had time to catch a glimpse of what appeared at first sight a mere
gulf of darkness, and then, as they turned, resolved itself into a vast
and solemn pile, grey-lined against black. Lights burned far across the
wide churchyard, as well as in the windows of the high houses that
crowned the wall, and figures moved against the glow, tiny as dolls....
Then she remembered again: how God had once been worshipped there
indeed, in the great house built to His honour, but was no longer so
worshipped. Or, if it were the same God, as some claimed, at least the
character of Him was very differently conceived....
* * * * *
The "Red Bull" again increased her sense of rest; since all inns are
alike. A curved archway opened on the narrow street; and beneath this
they rode, to find themselves in a paved court, already lighted,
surrounded by window-pierced walls, and high galleries to right and
left. The stamping of horses from the further end; and, almost
immediately, the appearance of a couple of hostlers, showed where the
stables lay. Beside it she could see through the door of the
brightly-lit bake-house.
She was terribly stiff, as she found when she limped up the three or
four stairs that led up to the door of the living-part of the inn; and
she was glad enough to sit down in a wide, low parlour with her friend
as Mr.


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