He leaned further from the window and shouted; but no one paid him the slightest attention. The crowd shifted up the street, the din growing as they went; there was a sound of slammed doors; windows opened opposite and heads craned out. Something was shouted up and the heads disappeared. Ralph sprang back from the window, as more and more surged into sight; he went to his door, glancing at his papers as he ran across; unlocked the door; listened a moment; went on to the landing and shouted for a servant. There was a sound of footsteps and voices below; the men were already alert, but no answer came to his call. He shouted again. “Who is there? Find out what the disturbance means.” There was an answer from one of his men; and the street door opened and closed. Again he ran to the window, and saw his man run out without his doublet across the court, and seize a woman by the arm. He waited in passionate expectancy; saw him drop the woman’s arm and turn to another; and then run swiftly back to the house. There was something sinister in the man’s very movements across that little space; he ran desperately, with his head craning forward; once he stumbled; once he glanced up at his master; and Ralph caught a sight of his face. Ralph was on the landing as the steps thundered upstairs, and met him at the head of the flight. “Speak man; what is it?” The servant lifted a face stamped with terror, a couple of feet below Ralph’s. “They--they say--” “What is it?” “They say that the King’s archers are about my Lord Essex’s house.” Ralph drew a swift breath. “Well?” “And that my Lord was arrested at the Council to-day.” Ralph turned, and in three steps was in his room again. The key clacked in the lock. CHAPTER VII A QUESTION OF LOYALTY He did not know how long he stood there, with the bundle of papers gripped in his two hands; and the thoughts racing through his brain. The noises in the street outside waned and waxed again, as the news swept down the lanes, and recoiled with a wave of excited crowds following it. Then again they died to a steady far-off murmur as the mob surged and clamoured round the Palace and Abbey a couple of hundred yards away. At last Ralph sat down; still holding the papers. He must clear his brain; and how was that possible with the images flashing through it in endless and vivid succession? For a while he could not steady himself; the shock was bewildering; he could think of nothing but the appalling drama. Essex was fallen! Then little by little the muddy current of thought began to run clear. He began to understand what lay before him; and the question that still awaited decision. His first instinct had been to dash the papers on to the fire and grind them into the red heart of the wood; but something had checked him. Very slowly he began to analyse that instinct.