t possible to cut his way through
so great a force, and admonished by that sound of advancing hoofs, he
gave a sudden order. They turned about, and not too soon, for as they
did so, scarce two hundred yards away, the first of the Abbot's horsemen
appeared plunging towards them up the slope. Then the race began, and
well for them was it that their horses were good and fresh, since before
ever they came in sight of Cranwell Towers the pursuers were not ninety
yards behind. But here on the flat their beasts, scenting home, answered
nobly to whip and spur, and drew ahead a little. Moreover, those who
watched within the house saw them, and ran to the drawbridge. When they
were within fifty yards of the moat Cicely's horse stumbled, slipped,
and fell, throwing her into the snow, then recovered itself and galloped
on alone. Christopher reined up alongside of her, and, as she rose,
frightened but unharmed, put out his long arm, and, lifting her to the
saddle in front of him, plunged forward, while those behind shouted
"Yield!"

Under this double burden his horse went but slowly. Still they reached
the bridge before any could lay hands upon them, and thundered over it.

"Wind up," shouted Christopher, and all there, even the womenfolk, laid
hands upon the cranks. The bridge began to rise, but now five or six of
the Abbot's folk, dismounting, sprang at it, catching the end of it with
their hands when it was about six feet in the air, and holding on so
that it could not be lifted, but remained, moving neither up nor down.

"Leave go, you knaves," shouted Christopher; but by way of answer one
of them, with the help of his fellows, scrambled on to the end of the
bridge, and stood there, hanging to the chains.

Then Christopher snatched a bow from the hand of a serving-man, and the
arrow being already on the string, again shouted--

"Get off at your peril!"

In answer the man called out something about the commands of the Lord
Abbot.

Christopher, looking past him, saw that others of the company had
dismounted and were running towards the bridge. If they reached it he
knew well that the game was played. So he hesitated no longer, but,
aiming swiftly, drew and loosed the bow. At that distance he could
not miss. The arrow struck the man where his steel cap joined the mail
beneath, and pierced him through the throat, so that he fell back dead.
The others, scared by his fate, loosed their hold, so that now the
bridge, relieved of