sky was clear and luminous with stars, and the air still and fragrant.
There were a few lights here and there round the Court, and the tall
chapel windows shone dimly above the little cloister. A link flared
steadily on its iron bracket by the door into the hall, and threw waves
of flickering ruddy light across the cobble-stones, and the shadow of
the tall pump wavered on the further side.

Sir James put his hand tenderly on Chris' shoulder.

"You must not be angry at Ralph, my son," he said. "Remember he does not
understand."

"He should not speak like that," said Chris fiercely. "How dare he do
so?"

"Of course he should not; but he does not know that. He thinks he is
advising you well. You must let him alone, Chris. You must remember he
is almost mad with business. Master Cromwell works him hard."

* * * * *

The chapel was but dimly lighted as Chris made his way up to the high
gallery at the west where he usually knelt. The altar glimmered in the
dusk at the further end, and only a couple of candles burned on the
priest's kneeling stool on the south side. The rest was dark, for the
house hold knew compline by heart; and even before Chris reached his
seat he heard the blessing asked for a quiet night and a perfect end. It
was very soothing to him as he leaned over the oak rail and looked down
on the dim figures of his parents in their seat at the front, and the
heads of the servants below, and listened to the quiet pulsation of