The weird shadows moving to and fro on the ceiling looked to his fancy like the nodding plumes on a funeral-car, and he shivered as he heard the laughter and merriment of those within, for it sounded to him as hollow and mirthless as the wintry wind which sighed and moaned through the archway below. Just in that fashion had the wind raged and moaned when His Majesty had entered Westminster Hall nearly two years before on his rash attempt to arrest the five members. “What are you staring at?” said Humphrey Neal, astonished at the expression on his companion’s face. “We had better hasten on.” Gabriel made no reply, but with one lingering look at those strange funereal shadows on the ceiling, he turned away, following his companions across the quiet quad and out into the street. He had looked his last on the King. CHAPTER XXV. “Whatever harmonies of law The growing world assume, Thy work is Thine. The single note From that deep chord which Hampden smote Will vibrate to the doom.” --Tennyson. By the time they approached Magdalene Bridge the twilight had faded into darkness, but the stars shone brightly in the frosty atmosphere, and the snowy ground glimmered white through the pervading gloom. Some temporary fortifications, not of a very effective order, had lately been made to protect the bridge, and a strict guard was kept. It was the endeavour to pass through at this late hour of the afternoon which was like to prove their greatest peril. More than once Humphrey Neal looked with anxiety at his two companions. From Sandy nothing but a dog-like obedience could be expected; and it seemed to him that Gabriel’s overbright eyes and feverishly flushed face told their own tale. The lieutenant, whose fortitude and intrepid courage had carried him in a masterly fashion through the escape from the Castle, stood now on the verge of utter collapse. Clearly it rested with him to take the initiative and to pioneer the others through this dangerous attempt to pass the sentries. “Sing a snatch of some carol as we walk,” he suggested. And Gabriel obeyed, chanting, to a tune he had known all his life, the words: “The God of love doth give His Son, The Prince of Peace, to quell The sin and strife that mar man’s life; With us He deigns to dwell. On earth be peace, Bid strife to cease, To all men show goodwill.” By this time they had reached the first sentry. “Halt, there!” said the man. “None leaves the city after sunset.” “Good master sentry, let us pass; the sun hath set but an hour, and we be bound to reach Cowley by supper-time,” said Humphrey in his countryman’s drawl. The sentry summoned one of the guard.