But his sturdy face looked troubled as he answered, and Chris saw his father’s lips tighten. Dom Anthony drummed softly on the table. “There is nothing to be done,” he said. “We wait till we are cast out.” “You cannot refuse admittance?” questioned Sir James. “But we shall do so,” said the other tranquilly; “at least we shall not open.” “But they will batter the door down.” “Certainly,” said the monk. “And then?” He shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose they will put us out.” There was absolutely nothing to be done. It was absurd to dream of more than formal resistance. Up in the North in more than one abbey the inmates had armed themselves, and faced the spoilers grimly on the village green; but that was where the whole country side was with them, and here it was otherwise. They talked a few minutes longer, and decided that they would neither open nor resist. The two monks were determined to remain there until they were actually cast out; and then the responsibility would rest on other shoulders than theirs. It was certain of course that by this time to-morrow at the latest they would have been expelled; and it was arranged that the two monks should ride back to Overfield, if they were personally unmolested, and remain there until further plans were decided upon. The four knew of course that there was a grave risk in provoking the authorities any further, but it was a risk that the two Religious were determined to run. They broke up presently; Mr. Morris came upstairs to tell them that food was ready in one of the parlours off the cloister; and the two laymen went off with him, while the monks went to sing vespers for the last time. * * * * *