The Archbishop started and flushed a deep crimson.
He took a pyx from his pocket and reverently took out the desecrated Host from the box, placing it in the pyx.
Then, with a face that was suffused to a deep purple, he touched the kneeling peer upon the shoulder. Lord Huddersfield rose with a deep sob of relief.
The Archbishop looked once at Hamlyn, a look the man never forgot.
Then the two visitors turned and went away as swiftly and silently as they had come.
It was a long time before either father or son spoke a word.
At last Hamlyn cleared his throat and mouthed a sentence. It would not come. All that Sam could catch were the words
"PROTESTANT TRUTH!"
A Selection from the Catalogue of