CHAPTER VII

  AXES AND HAMMERS

  Chris sat next morning at a high window of a house near Saint Michael'slooking down towards the south of the town.

  They had escaped without difficulty the night before through thechurch-entrance, with a man whom Ralph sent after them to see that theycarried nothing away, leaving the crowd roaring round the corner of thegate, and though people looked curiously at the monks, the five laymenwith them protected them from assault. Mr. Morris had found a lodging acouple of days before, unknown to Chris, in the house of a woman who wasfavourable to the Religious, and had guided the party straight there onthe previous evening.

  The two monks had said mass in Saint Michael's that morning before thetown was awake; and were now keeping within doors at Sir James's earnestrequest, while the two gentlemen with one of the servants had gone tosee what was being done at the priory.

  * * * * *

  From where Chris sat in his black habit at the leaded window he couldsee straight down the opening of the steep street, across the lowerroofs below, to where the great pile of the Priory church less thanhalf-a-mile away soared up in the sunlight against the water-meadowswhere the Ouse ran to the south of the town.

  The street was very empty below him, for every human being that coulddo so had gone down to the sacking of the priory. There might bepickings, scraps gathered from the hoards that the monks were supposedto have gathered; there would probably be an auction; and there wouldcertainly be plenty of excitement and pleasure.

  Chris was himself almost numb to sensation. The coolness that hadcondensed round his soul last night had hardened into ice; he scarcelyrealised what was going on, or how great was the catastrophe into whichhis life was plunged. There lay the roofs before him--he ran his eyefrom the west tower past the high lantern to the delicate tracery of theeastern apse and chapels--in the hands of the spoilers; and here he satdry-eyed and steady-mouthed looking down on it, as a man looks at awound not yet begun to smart.

  It was piteously clear and still. Smoke was rising from a fire somewherebehind the church, a noise as of metal on stone chinked steadily, andthe voices of men calling one to another sounded continually from theenclosure. Now and again the tiny figure of a workman showed clear onthe roof, pick in hand; or leaning to call directions down to hisfellows beneath.

  Dom Anthony looked in presently, breviary in hand, and knelt by Chris onthe window-step, watching too; but he spoke no word, glanced at thewhite face and sunken eyes of the other, sighed once or twice, and wentout again.

  The morning passed on and still Chris watched. By eleven o'clock the menwere gone from the roof; half an hour had passed, and no further figurehad appeared.

  There were footsteps on the stairs; and Sir James came in.

  He came straight across to his son and sat down by him. Chris looked athim. The old man nodded.

  "Yes, my son," he said, "they are at it. Nothing is to be left, but thecloister and guest-house. The church is to be down in a week they say."

  Chris looked at him dully.

  "All?" he said.

  "All the church, my son."

  Sir James gave an account of what he had seen. He had made his way inwith Nicholas and a few other persons, into the court; but had not beenallowed to enter the cloister. There was a furnace being made ready inthe calefactorium for the melting of the lead, he had been told by oneof the men; and the church, as he had seen for himself, was full ofworkmen.

  "And the Blessed Sacrament?" asked Chris.

  "A priest was sent for this morning to carry It away to a church; I knownot which."

  Sir James described the method of destruction.

  They were beginning with the apse and the chapels behind the high altar.The ornaments had been removed, the images piled in a great heap in theouter court, and the brasses had been torn up. There were half a dozenmasons busy at undercutting the pillars and walls; and as they excavatedthe carpenters made wooden insertions to prop up the weight. The men hadbeen brought down from London, as the commissioners were not certain ofthe temper of the Lewes people. Two of the four great pillars behind thehigh altar were already cut half through.

  "And Ralph?"

  The old man's face grew tense and bitter.

  "I saw him in the roof," he said; "he made as if he did not see me."

  They were half-through dinner before Nicholas joined them. He wasflushed and dusty and furious.

  "Ah! the hounds!" he said, as he stood at the door, trembling. "Theysay they will have the chapels down before night. They have stripped thelead."

  Sir James looked up and motioned him to sit down.

  "We will go down again presently," he said.

  "But we have saved our luggage," went on Nicholas, taking his seat; "andthere was a parcel of yours, Chris, that I put with it. It is all to besent up with the horses to-night."

  "Did you speak with Mr. Ralph?" asked Dom Anthony.

  "Ah! I did; the dog! and I told him what I thought. But he dared notrefuse me the luggage. John is to go for it all to-night."

  He told them during dinner another fact that he had learned.

  "You know who is to have it all?" he said fiercely, his fingerstwitching with emotion.

  "It is Master Gregory Cromwell, and his wife, and his baby. A finenursery!"

  * * * * *

  As the evening drew on, Chris was again at the window alone. He had saidhis office earlier in the afternoon, and sat here again now, with hishands before him, staring down at the church.

  One of the servants had come up with a message from Sir James an hourbefore telling him not to expect them before dusk; and that they wouldsend up news of any further developments. The whole town was there, saidthe man: it had been found impossible to keep them out. Dom Anthonypresently came again and sat with Chris; and Mr. Morris, who had beenleft as a safeguard to the monks, slipped in soon after and stood behindthe two; and so the three waited.

  The sky was beginning to glow again as it had done last night with theclear radiance of a cloudless sunset; and the tall west tower stood upbright in the glory. How infinitely far away last night seemed now,little and yet distinct as a landscape seen through a reversedtelescope! How far away that silent waiting at the cloister door, theclamour at the gate, the forced entrance, the slipping away through thechurch!

  The smoke was rising faster than ever now from the great chimney, andhung in a cloud above the buildings. Perhaps even now the lead was beingcast.

  There was a clatter at the corner of the cobbled street below, and DomAnthony leaned from the window. He drew back.

  "It is the horses," he said.

  The servant presently came up to announce that the two gentlemen werefollowing immediately, and that he had had orders to procure horses andsaddle them at once. He had understood Sir James to say that they mustleave that night.

  Mr. Morris hurried out to see to the packing.

  In five minutes the gentlemen themselves appeared.

  Sir James came quickly across to the two monks.

  "We must go to-night, Chris," he said. "We had words with Portinari. Youmust not remain longer in the town."

  Chris looked at him.

  "Yes?" he said.

  "And the chapels will be down immediately. Oh! dear God!"

  Dom Anthony made room for the old man to sit down in the window-seat;and himself stood behind the two with Nicholas; and so again theywatched.

  The light was fading fast now, and in the windows below lights werebeginning to shine. The square western tower that dominated the wholepriory had lost its splendour, and stood up strong and pale against themeadows. There was a red flare of light somewhere over the wall of thecourt, and the inner side of the gate-turret was illuminated by it.

  A tense excitement lay on the watchers; and no sound came from them butthat of quick breathing as they waited for what they knew was imminent.

  Outside the evening was wonderfully still
; they could hear two mentalking somewhere in the street below; but from the priory came nosound. The chink of the picks was still, and the cries of the workmen.Far away beyond the castle on their left came an insistent barking of adog; and once, when a horseman rode by below Chris bit his lip withvexation, for it seemed to him like the disturbing of a death bed. Astar or two looked out, vanished, and peeped again from the luminoussky, to the south, and the downs beneath were grey and hazy.

  All the watchers now had their eyes on the eastern end of the churchthat lay in dim shadow; they could see the roof of the vault behindwhere the high altar lay beneath; the flying buttress of a chapel below;and, nearer, the low roof of the Lady-chapel.

  Chris kept his eyes strained on the upper vault, for there, he knew thefirst movement would show itself.

  The time seemed interminable. He moistened his dry lips from time totime, shifted his position a little, and moved his elbow from the sharpmoulding of the window-frame.

  Then he caught his breath.

  From where he sat, in the direct line of his eyes, the top of a patch ofevergreen copse was visible just beyond the roof of the vault; and ashe looked he saw that a patch of paler green had appeared below it. Allin a moment he saw too the flying buttress crook itself like an elbowand disappear. Then the vault was gone and the roof beyond; the wallssank with incredible slowness and vanished.

  A cloud of white dust puffed up like smoke.

  Then through the open window came the roar of the tumbling masonry; andshrill above it the clamour of a great crowd.

  BOOK III

  THE KING'S GRATITUDE