life,
as he said, he found his tongue and told all.

"So, so," said the Abbot when he had finished. "Now God is good to
us. We have these birds in our net, and I shall keep St. Hilary's at
Blossholme after all. For your services, Master Dicksey, you shall be my
reeve at Cranwell Towers when they are in my hands."

But here it may be said that in the end things went otherwise, since, so
far from getting the stewardship of Cranwell, when the truth came to be
known, Jonathan's maiden would have no more to do with him, and the folk
in those parts sacked his farm and hunted him out of the country, so
that he was never heard of among them again.

Meanwhile, all being ready, Christopher at the Towers was closeted with
Cicely, taking his farewell of her in the dark, for no light was left to
them.

"This is a desperate venture," he said to her, "nor can I tell how it
will end, or if ever I shall see your sweet face again. Yet, dearest, we
have been happy together for some few hours, and if I fall and you live
on I am sure that you will always remember me till, as we are taught,
we meet again where no enemy has the power to torment us, and cold and
hunger and darkness are not. Cicely, if that should be so and any child
should come to you, teach it to love the father whom it never saw."

Now she threw her arms about him and wept, and wept, and wept.

"If you die," she sobbed, "surely I will do so also, for although I am
but young I find this world a very evil place, and now that my father is
gone, without you, husband, it would be a hell."

"Nay, nay," he answered; "live on while you may; for who knows? Often
out of the worst comes the best. At least we have had our joy. Swear it
now, sweet."

"Aye, if you will swear it also, for I may be taken and you left. In the
dark swords do not choose. Let us promise that we will both endure our
lives, together or separate, until God calls us."

So they swore there in the icy gloom, and sealed the oath with kisses.

Now the time was come at last, and they crept their way to the courtyard
hand in hand, taking some comfort because the night was very favourable
to their project. The snow had melted, and a great gale blew from the
sou'-west, boisterous but not cold, which caused the tall elms that
stood about to screech and groan like things alive. In such a wind as
this they were sure that they would not be heard, nor could they be seen
beneath that murky, starless sky, while the ra