I forget that the Good Shepherd can guard His own sheep.

And they were so faithful to me that I know they will be faithful to Him." * * * * * There came a sound of a key being knocked upon the door outside, and the bishop stood up, slowly and painfully.
"That will be Mr.Giles," he said, "hungry for supper." The two monks sank down on their knees, and as Chris closed his eyes he heard a soft murmur of blessing over his head.
Then each kissed his hand and Chris went to the door, half blind with tears.
He heard a whisper from the bishop to the Prior, who still lingered a moment, and a half sob-- "God helping me!"-- said the Prior.
There was no more spoken, and the two went down the stairs together into the golden sunshine with the warder behind them.
Chris dared not look at the other.

He had had a glimpse of his face as he stood aside on the stairs to let him pass, and what he saw there told him enough.
* * * * * There were plenty of boats rocking on the tide at the foot of the river stairs outside the Tower, and they stepped into one, telling the man to row to Southwark.
It was a glorious summer evening now.

The river lay bathed in the level sunshine that turned it to molten gold, and it was covered with boats plying in all directions.

There were single wherries going to and from the stairs that led down on all sides into the water, and barges here and there, of the great merchants or nobles going home to supper, with a line of oars on each side, and a glow of colour gilding in the stem and prow, were moving up stream towards the City.