) It was an unneighbourly action, this of his,
he thought. He must do his best to make it as little offensive as he
could. He turned to his men.
"Now, men," he said, glaring like a judge, "no violence here, unless I
give the order. No breaking of aught in the house. The lady here is a
friend of mine; and--"
The great bolts shot back suddenly; he turned as the door opened; and
there, pale as milk, with eyes that seemed a-fire, Marjorie's face was
looking at him; she was wrapped in her long cloak and her hood was drawn
over her head. The space behind was crowded with faces, unrecognizable
in the shadow.
* * * * *
He saluted her.
"Mistress Manners," he said, "I am sorry to incommode you in this way.
But a couple of fellows tell me that a man hath come this way, whom they
think to be a priest. I am a magistrate, mistress, and--"
He stopped, confounded by her face. It was not like her face at all--the
face, rather, seemed as nothing; her whole soul was in her eyes, crying
to him some message that he could not understand. It appeared
impossible to him that this was a mere entreaty that he should leave one
more priest at liberty; impossible that the mere shock and surprise
should have changed her so.... He looked at her.... Then he began again:
"It is no will of mine, mistress, beyond my duty. But I hold her Grace's
commission--"
She swept back again, motioning him to enter. He was astonished at his
own discomfort, but he followed, and his men pressed close after; and he
noticed, even in that twilight, that a look of despair went over the
girl's face, sharp as pain, as she saw them.
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