t wearer's life and another's.
He is a simple soul, and if the Abbot does not catch him first I believe
that he will go."

Mother Matilda took the ring and set it on her own finger. Then she
walked to where Cicely lay sleeping, looked at her and the boy upon her
breast. Stretching out her thin hands, she called down the blessing and
protection of Almighty God upon them both, then turned to depart.

Emlyn caught her by the robe.

"Stay," she said. "You think I do not understand; but I do. You are
giving up everything for us. Even if you live through it, this House,
which has been your charge for many years, will be dissolved; your sheep
will be scattered to starve in their toothless age; the fold that has
sheltered them for four hundred years will become a home of wolves. I
understand full well, and she"--pointing to the sleeping Cicely--"will
understand also."

"Say nothing to her," murmured Mother Matilda; "I may fail."

"You may fail, or you may succeed. If you fail and we burn, God shall
reward you. If you succeed and we are saved, on her behalf I swear that
you shall not suffer. There is wealth hidden away--wealth worth
many priories; you and yours shall have your share of it, and that
Commissioner shall not go lacking. Tell him that there is some small
store to pay him for his trouble, and that the Abbot of Blossholme would
rob him of it. Now, my Lady Margaret--for that, I think, used to be your
name, and will be again when you have done with priests and nuns--bless
me also and begone, and know that, living or dead, I hold you great and
holy."

So the Prioress blessed her ere she glided thence in her stately
fashion, and the oaken door opened and shut behind her.

Three days later the Abbot visited them alone.

"Foul and accursed witches," he said, "I come to tell you that next
Monday at noon you burn upon the green in front of the Abbey gate, who,
were it not for the mercy of the Church, should have been tortured also
till you discovered your accomplices, of whom I think that you have
many."

"Show me the King's warrant for this slaughter," said Cicely.

"I will show you nothing save the stake, witch. Repent, repent, ere it
be too late. Hell and its eternal fires yawn for you."

"Do they yawn for my child also, my Lord Abbot?"

"Your brat will be taken from you ere you enter the flames and laid upon
the ground, since it is baptized and too young to burn. If any have pity
on it, good; if not, whe