Mr.Morris's discreet face looked steadily and composedly at his master.
"Bring the pasty," said Ralph, "and the wine." He gave the servant a sharp look, seemed to glance out across the hall for a moment and back again.

There was no answering look on Mr.Morris's face, but he slipped out softly, leaving the door just ajar.
Then Ralph turned to Chris again.
Chris had had time to recover himself by now, and was sitting very pale and composed after his dramatic outburst, his hands hidden under his scapular, and his fingers gripped together.
"Now tell me," said Ralph, with his former kindly contempt.

He had begun to understand now what his brother had come about, and was determined to be at once fatherly and decisive.

This young fool must be taught his place.
"It is this," said Chris, still in a trembling voice, but it grew steadier as he went on.

"God's people are being persecuted--there is no longer any doubt.