Margaret's Church, as well as the smaller buildings of the Court, and
the little town that lay round about. But she listened as she listened
to the noise that came from the streets clear across the water,
attending to it, yet scarcely distinguishing one thing from another, and
forgetting each as soon as she heard it. She was thinking all the while
of Robin, and of the man whose face she had seen, of his beard and his
long throat. Well, at least, Robin was not yet a priest....
* * * * *
The boat was already nearing the King's Stairs at Westminster, when a
new event happened that for a while distracted her.
The first they saw of it was the sight of a number of men and women
running in a disorderly mob, calling out as they ran, along the
river-bank in the direction from Charing Old Cross towards Palace Yard.
They appeared excited, but not by fear; and it was plain that something
was taking place of which they wished to have a sight. As the priest
stood up in the boat in order to have a clearer sight of what lay above
the bank, three or four trumpet-calls of a peculiar melody, rang out
clear and distinct, echoed back by the walls round about, plainly
audible above the rising noise of a crowd that, it seemed, must be
gathering out of sight. The priest sat down again and his face was
merry.
"You have come on a fortunate day, mistress," he said to Marjorie.
"First Topcliffe, and now her Grace; if we make haste we may see her
pass by.
Pages:
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184