As he walked on, he glanced back across the river at Lambeth. There it
lay, then, the home of Warham and Pole and Morton, with the water
lapping its towers. It had once stood for the spiritual State of God in
England, facing its partner--(and sometimes its rival)--Westminster and
Whitehall; now it was a department of the civil State merely. It was
occupied by men such as Dr. Grindal, sequestrated and deprived of even
his spiritual functions by the woman who now grasped all the reins of
the Commonwealth; and now again by the man whom he had just seen, placed
there by the same woman to carry out her will more obediently against
all who denied her supremacy in matters spiritual as well as temporal,
whether Papists or Independents.
* * * * *
The priest was astonished, as he reached the precincts of Whitehall, to
observe the number of guards that were everywhere visible. He had been
warned at Rheims not to bring himself into too much notice, no more than
markedly to avoid it; so he did not attempt to penetrate even the outer
courts or passages. Yet it seemed to him that an air of watchfulness was
everywhere. At the gate towards which he looked at least half a dozen
men were on formal guard, their uniforms and weapons sparkling
brilliantly in the sunshine; and besides these, within the open doors he
caught sight of a couple of officers. As he stood there, a man came out
of one of the houses near the gate, and turned towards it: he was
immediately challenged, and presently passed on within, where one of the
officers came forward to speak to him.
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