The Inquisitor

The thin papery sky of the early autumn afternoon was torn, and the
eye of the sun, pale but piercing, looked through and down. The
eye's gaze travelled on a shaft of light to the very centre of the
town. A little scornful, very arrogant, it surveyed the scene.
The Cathedral had chimed at three, and at once the bells began with
their accustomed melody to ring for Evensong. The town, bathed in
a smoky haze, clustered about and around the Cathedral, Cathedral
Green and Arden Gate, dropping through t...