three o'clock
Margaret was on her knees in chapel , silent and self-controlled , but staring piteously at the compassionate figure of the great Mother who looked down on her with Her Son in Her arms . The huge dog under the chapel-cloister lifted his head and bayed in answer , as frantic figures fled across the court before him . And over all lay the hot June sky , and round about the deep peaceful woods . A start was made at three o'clock . Sir James was already in his saddle , as Chris ran out ; an unfamiliar figure in his plain priest 's cloak and cap and great riding boots beneath . A couple of grooms waited behind , and another held the monk 's horse . Margaret was on the steps , white and steadied by prayer ; and the chaplain stood behind with a strong look in his eyes as they met those of his patron .