place was transformed. Stuffs and embroideries hung upon the wall about
the altar, making it seem, indeed, a sanctuary; two tall silver
candlesticks, used for no other purpose, stood upon the linen cloths,
under which rested the slate altar-stone, taken, with the sacred vessels
and the vestments, from one of the privy hiding-holes, with whose secret
not a living being without the house, and not more than two or three
within, was acquainted. It was rumored that half a dozen such places had
been contrived within the precincts, two of which were great enough to
hold two or three men at a pinch.

* * * * *

Soon after six o'clock, then, the altar was ready and the priest stood
vested. He retired a pace from the altar, signed himself with the cross,
and with Mr. John FitzHerbert and his son Thomas on either side of him,
began the preparation....

It was a strange and an inspiriting sight that the young priest (for it
was Mr. Simpson who was saying the mass) looked upon as he turned round
after the gospel to make his little sermon. From end to end the tiny
chapel was full, packed so that few could kneel and none sit down. The
two doors were open, and here two faces peered in; and behind, rank
after rank down the steps and along the little passage, the folk stood
or knelt, out of sight of both priest and altar, and almost out of
sound. The sanctuary was full of children--whose round-eyed, solemn
faces looked up at him--children who knew little or nothing of what was
passing, except that they were there to worship God, but who, for all
that, received impressions and associations that could never thereafter
wholly leave them. The chapel was still completely dark, for the faint
light of dawn was excluded by the heavy hangings over the windows; and