. It lies near the
quay not half-a-mile from the Abbey gate. Be swift now, and help me. I
will overtake you with the letters, and see that you are furnished with
all things needful from our store. Also I must speak with the captain
ere he weighs anchor. Waste no more time in talking, but obey and be
secret."

"I obey, and I will be secret, as is my duty," answered Brother Martin,
bowing his head humbly. "But what will be the end of all this business,
God and His angels know alone. I say that I like it not."

"A _very_ dangerous man," muttered the Abbot, as he watched Martin go.
"He also must bide a while in Spain; a long while. I'll see to it!"

CHAPTER VI

EMLYN'S CURSE

Just before the wild dawn broke on the morrow of the burning of the
Towers, a corpse, roughly shrouded, was borne from the village into the
churchyard of Cranwell, where a shallow grave had been dug for its last
home.

"Whom do we bury in such haste?" asked the tall Thomas Bolle, who had
delved the grave alone in the dark, for his orders were urgent, and the
sexton was fled away from these tumults.

"That man of blood, Sir Christopher Harflete, who has caused us so much
loss," said the old monk who had been bidden to perform the office, as
the clergyman, Father Necton, had gone also, fearing the vengeance of
the Abbot for his part in the marriage of Cicely. "A sad story, a very
sad story. Wedded by night, and now buried by night, both of them,
one in the flame and one in the earth. Truly, O God, Thy judgments
are wonderful, and woe to those who lift hands against Thine anointed
ministers!"

"Very wonderful," answered Bolle, as, standing in the grave, he took
the head of the body and laid it down between his straddled feet; "so
wonderful that a plain man wonders what will be the wondrous end of
them, also why this noble young knight has grown so wondrously lighter
than he used to be. Trouble and hunger in those burnt Towers, I suppose.
Why did they not set him in the vault with his ancestors? It would have
saved me a lonely job among the ghosts that haunt this place. What do
you say, Father? Because the stone is cemented down and the entrance
bricked up, and there is no mason to be found? Then why not have waited
till one could be fetched? Oh, it is wonderful, all wonderful. But who
am I that I should dare to ask questions? When the Lord Abbot orders,
the lay-brother obeys, for he also is wonderful--a wonderful abbot.

"There, he is tidy