lease. Ope the west postern ere sunrise. Till then God keep ye.

"Written in great haste this eve of St. Withold by the hand of him
who would remain ever yours,

"ROGER COURTENAY."

Catharine's wild excitement on the perusal of this missive can be more
readily imagined than described.

"He is alive! He comes to my rescue!" she exclaimed. "Perchance it was
even Roger himself disguised as the pedlar. He was ever one to venture a
bold deed. Alack! that I should have been so near, and not have known
him!"

She did not dare to confide her secret even to her faithful maid, Anne,
but retiring as usual at nightfall she lay awake, waiting in burning
anxiety for the earliest peep of dawn. When the first faint glimmer of
light stole into her room she rose and crept softly down the stairs. She
was obliged to make her way through the great hall, where the
men-at-arms lay sleeping on the rushes. A dog sprang up and growled, but
she managed to quiet it with a caress, and passed on without disturbing
the sleepers. The little west postern door was heavily barred, and it
took all the strength of her white hands to pull back the bolts.
Cautiously she peered out into the half-darkness. At the same moment a
tall figure stepped from the shadow and clasped her in his arms.

"Sweet, you must fly! This is no place for ye now," whispered Roger.
"Diccon waits with a trusty steed to conduct ye to Covebury. Take
sanctuary at the convent of the Franciscans till I come to claim ye. I
have stern work to do here."

Wrapping her hastily in a cloak, and helping her to mount, Roger waited
till he judged the fugitives to be at a safe distance; then, giving the
word of command to his followers, he commenced his attack on the Manor.
Sir Mervyn and his retainers, surprised in their sleep, nevertheless
offered a determined resistance. A fierce combat was waged in the great
hall and in the courtyard, till, pressed from one point of vantage to
another, the defenders made a desperate sally, and rushing
helter-skelter down the village sought refuge inside the ancient church.
It was of no avail; the villagers, hastily armed with swords and pikes,
had joined in the fray. Determined to avenge themselves upon Sir Mervyn
for his many acts of tyranny and injustice, they set upon him without
mercy, and without respect even for the sacredness of the edifice.
Chased from the choir to the Lady Chapel, and from the Lady Chapel t