'It is death or success,' she whispered. 'Be of good cheer; in either event you shall be counted noble among the men to come.' When Grace Ingleby wished him good-night, she held his hand in hers with the firm grasp of a sister. 'You are one of us,' she said frankly. 'In this house we are all brothers and sisters in hope and in Religion. And if they found us out,' she added with a laugh, 'we should be brothers and sisters in death. Courage, my lord! There is all to gain.' Faith Ingleby, the younger sister, who had less ardour for the Cause than for the men who were pledged to it, whispered low, as he took her hand,-- 'We know all about Lady Carlyon; and we pray daily for her, and for you. Mother says she is worthy to become--to be raised--to be----' 'What?' he asked, reddening; for the girl hesitated and looked at him with a kind of awe. 'Queen of England.' 'Don't anticipate, Faith,' said Algy. 'Considering, however, what we have come out of, it strikes me that we have nothing to lose, whatever we may gain. Come, Chester, we want to have a quiet talk together as soon as the Bishop goes to bed.' * * * * * They talked for nearly the whole night. There was so much to say; one subject after another was started; there were so many chances to consider,--that it was four o'clock when they parted. Algy found, somewhere or other, a bottle of champagne. 'Come,' he cried, 'a stirrup-cup! I drink to the day when the "King shall enjoy his own again."' 'Algy!' said Lord Chester. 'To think that you have deceived me!' 'To think,' he replied laughing, 'that we have dreamed of this day so long! What would our Revolution be worth unless we were to have our hereditary and rightful king for leader! Yet, I confess it was hard to see you drawn daily closer to us, and not to hold out hands to drag you in--long ago. Yes, the Professor was right. She is always right. She glories in her obedience to the Bishop, but--whisper,--we all know very well that the Bishop does nothing without consulting her first, and nothing that she does not agree with. Don't be too sure, dear boy, about the Supremacy of Man.' CHAPTER VIII THE BISHOP At seven in the morning, Lord Chester was roused from an extremely disagreeable dream. He was, in this vision, being led off to execution, in company with the Bishop, Constance, the Professor, and Grace Ingleby. The Duchess of Dunstanburgh headed the procession, carrying the ropes in her own illustrious hand. Her face was terrible in its sternness. The Chancellor was there, pointing skinny fingers, and saying 'Yah!' Before him, within five minutes' walk, stood five tall and comely gallows, with running tackle beautifully arranged; also, in case there should be any preference expressed by the criminals for fancy methods of execution, there were stakes and fagots, guillotines, wheels to be broken upon, men with masks, and other accessories of public execution.