CHAPTER III.
FATHER ANDREW None were abroad in the streets of Dunwich on that bitter winter night when these three trudged wearily down Middlegate Street through the driving snow to the door of the grey Preceptory of the Knights Templar.
In a window above the porch a light burned dimly, the only one to be seen in any of the houses round about, for by now all men were abed.
"'Tis Father Arnold's room," said Eve.

"He sits there at his books.

I'll knock and call him, but do you two go lay hold of the ring of the church door," and she nodded toward a grey pile that stood near by.

"Then none can touch you, and how know we who may be in this house ?" "I'll go no step further," answered Hugh sullenly.

"All this Temple ground is sanctuary, or at least we will risk it." And, seizing the knocker, he hammered at the door.
The light in the window vanished, and presently they heard a sound of creaking bolts.