This second vanished again as the squire came forward.

A figure of a kitchen-boy, in a white apron, showed in the dark doorway that led to the kitchen and hall, and disappeared again instantly.

From two or three upper windows faces peeped and remained fascinated.

Only the old hound remained still, twitching his ears.
All this--though there was nothing to be seen but the familiar personage of the place, in his hat and cloak and sword, walking through his own court on his way to dinner, as he had walked a thousand times before.
And yet so great was the significance of his coming to-day, that the very gate behind him was pushed open by sightseers, who had followed at a safe distance up the path from the church; half a dozen stood there staring, and behind them, at intervals, a score more, spread out in groups, all the way down to the porter's lodge.
The most remarkable feature of all was the silence.

Not a voice there spoke, even in a whisper.