were surrounded, and now, at the crest of it, they fought, for swords
flashed in the red light. The pursuers closed in on them like hounds on
an outrun fox. They went down--they vanished.

Cicely strove to gallop after them, for she was crazed, but the others
held her back.

At length there was silence, and Thomas Bolle, dismounting, crept out to
look. Ten minutes later he returned.

"All have gone," he said.

"Oh! he is dead!" wailed Cicely. "This fatal place has robbed me of
father and of husband."

"I think not," answered Bolle. "I see no bloodstains, nor any signs of
a man being carried. He went living on his horse. Still, would to Heaven
that women could learn when to keep silent!"

CHAPTER XVII

BETWEEN DOOM AND HONOUR

The day was about to break when at last, utterly worn out in body and
mind, Cicely and her party rode their stumbling horses up to the gates
of Blossholme Priory.

"Pray God the nuns are still here," said Emlyn, who held the child, "for
if they have been driven out and my mistress must go farther, I think
that she will die. Knock hard, Thomas, that old gardener is deaf as a
wall."

Bolle obeyed with good will, till presently the grille in the door was
opened and a trembling woman's voice asked who was there.

"That's Mother Matilda," said Emlyn, and slipping from her horse, she
ran to the bars and began to talk to her through them. Then other nuns
came, and between them they opened one of the large gates, for the
gardener either could not or would not be aroused, and passed through it
into the courtyard where, when it was understood that Cicely had really
come again, there was a great welcoming. But now she could hardly speak,
so they made her swallow a bowl of milk and took her to her old room,
where sleep of some kind overcame her. When she awoke it was nine of the
clock. Emlyn, looking little the worse, was already up and stood talking
with Mother Matilda.

"Oh!" cried Cicely, as memory came back to her, "has aught been heard of
my husband?"

They shook their heads, and the Prioress said--

"First you must eat, Sweet, and then we will tell you all we know, which
is little."

So she ate who needed food sadly, and while Emlyn helped her to dress
herself, hearkened to the news. It was of no great account, only
confirming that which they had learnt from the Fenmen; that the Abbey
was fortified and guarded by strange soldiers, rebellious men from the
north or foreigners, an