Captain Fortescue and Robin were to
leave again for the Continent on the day following Christmas Day itself.
Marjorie made acquaintance during these days with more than one
meeting-place of the Catholics in London. One was a quiet little house
near St. Bartholomew's-the-Great, where a widow had three or four sets
of lodgings, occupied frequently by priests and by other Catholics, who
were best out of sight; and it was here that mass was to be said on
Christmas Day. Another was in the Spanish Embassy; and here, to her joy,
she looked openly upon a chapel of her faith, and from the gallery
adored her Lord in the tabernacle. But even this was accomplished with
an air of uneasiness in those round her; the Spanish priest who took
them in walked quickly and interrupted them before they were done, and
seemed glad to see the last of them. It was explained to Marjorie that
the ambassador did not wish to give causeless offence to the Protestant
court.
And now, on Christmas Eve, Robin, Anthony and the two ladies entered the
Cathedral as dusk was falling--first passing through the burial-ground,
over the wall of which leaned the rows of houses in whose windows lights
were beginning to burn.
The very dimness of the air made the enormous heights of the great
church more impressive. Before them stretched the long nave, over seven
hundred feet from end to end; from floor to roof the eye travelled up
the bunches of slender pillars to the dark ceiling, newly restored after
the fire, a hundred and fifty feet.
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