e its cords, they felt that the evil net which held them was drawing ever tighter. There were fear and pity as well as love in the eyes of Mother Matilda whe

ons on her, asking what was in the wind, and why her lady, a

ot know of anything unusual, and that, as regarded the dete

l you to a strict account, aye, and those who will listen to the prayer of the helpless. Mother Matilda, England is not the land it was when a

ht is very hard to find, this place is strictly guarded, and whateve

miserable souls, but of those of other folk, aye, and

who am myself in bond

p you all," and with a contemptuous shrug of her broad shoulders

deed, but, as many a captive has found in those and other days, right is no Joshua's trumpet to cause high walls to fall. M

asked, could there be for that child to see the light than in this quiet Nunnery? When it was born and she was well again she would consider other matters. Meanwhile she was langui

here she feared for the life of her child, dreading lest that news might bring

mind, but, alas! who would rescue them? The great men in London, perhaps, as a matter of policy, but great men are hard to come at, even for the free. If she were free

utors. Emlyn was not minded to give either. Moreover, she guessed that it might be in vain. Once outside those walls, they knew too much to be allowed to l

es to call down the plagues of Egypt upon this Pharaoh of an Abbot-those plagues with which she had threatened him-but

ds with that faithful Thomas Bolle, the fier

t gave the letter that she wrote to him to the Prioress by mistake, who burnt it before her eyes and said nothing. The monks who brought provisions to the Nunnery were always received by three of the sisters, set to spy on each other and on them, so that she could no

why not, then, when he stood within five hundred? This idea possessed her; these limitations of nature made her mad. She refused to accept them. Night by night, lying brooding

presence. Then one afternoon, looking from an upper dormer window, she saw a scuffle going on outside the gateway, and heard angry

s a madman or as drunk, had tried to break into the Nunnery. When he was asked what he wanted, he answered that he did not know, but he must speak with Eml

ater Thoma

of its sameness, then entered the old chapel by a side door and sat herself down to think in the chancel, not far from a life-sized statue of the Virgin, in painted oak, which stood here because of its peculiarities, for the back half o

rhood of the statue. Now many would have been scared and departed; but not so Emlyn, who only sat still and listened. Presently, without moving her head, she looked also. As it happened, the light of the se

tue, which they might do for as long as they pleased. Or perhaps this was a miracle, such as she had heard so much of but never seen. Well, why should she f

Emlyn

ed, also in a whi

d the voice, with a chuc

e. So appear, man or devil," answered Emlyn stoutly. But in secret she crossed herself beneat

ike a corpse in an upright coffin, appeared a figure, a square, strong figure, clad in a tattered monk's robe, surmounted by a large head with fiery red hair and beetling brows, beneath which shone two

doing here,

n. Night and day for weeks you hav

calling you; but

first I tried it I thought I should be poisoned, but now the air is none so bad. It ran to the Abbey once, and may still, but my door and Mrs. Fox's is in the copse by the park w

e. Man," she said fiercely, "

ave I not done what you told me

down against him, pushing the image door al

t mine, I think. I loved you once when we were young, did I not? I would have given myse

e accursed monks, who married yo

tamed you and made you their servant, their cattle-herd, the strong fellow to fetch and carry, the half-wit, as they call you, who can still be trusted to run an errand and hold his tongue, the Abbey mule that does not dare to kick, t

have my soul, and month by month I must confess. You remember, Emlyn, I warned you when you and the lady would have ridden to London before the siege. Well, afterward-I must confess it-the Abbot heard it himself, and oh! sore, sore

above his honour. God in heaven! to think I should ever have loved such a thing. Oh! I am shamed, I am shamed. I'll go wash my hands. Shut your trap and get you gone down your rat-run, Thomas Bolle, and, living or dead, never dare to speak to me

eat arm and caught her

n? I can't bear your scorn. Take

find the devil a better master than

ur will? Soul or no

moment," and she ran down the chapel, bolt

wenty years ago and more. You'll not confess to that, will you? There. Now, kneel befor

m both; in payment for the murder of Sir John Foterell and of Christopher Harflete, and of the imprisonment and robbery of Cicely Harflete, the daughter of the one and the wife of the other. He bound himself to do those things which she should tell him. He bound himself

man and swear and thereby avenge the dead and save the innocent from death; or will yo

the balance of his mind hung evenly, and Emlyn knew not which way they would turn. She saw, and put out a

And then-do you remember how that monk walked by-it was this Clement Maldon-and froze us with his cruel eyes, and said, 'What do you with the witch's daughter? She is not for you.' And-oh! Thomas, I can no more of it," and she broke down and sobbed, then added, "Swear nothing; get you gone and betray me, if you will. I'll bear you no malice, even when I

forehead, his great breast heaved, his utterance c

y God upon His throne in heaven, and by the devil in his fires in hell. Come, come," and he ran to the altar and clasped the crucifix that stood there. "Say the

the kneeling man and whispered-whispered through the gathering b

ew away from the altar b

bey sits Pharaoh with a hardened heart, and you are the angel-the destroying angel with the sword of the plagues of Egypt. To-night there will be fire in the Abbey-such fire as fell on Cranwell Towers. Nay, nay, I know; the church will not burn, nor

Have I no

yer, so wait till you see me here alone upon my knees. Stay! Wrap yourself in grave-clothes, for then if you are seen they will

pecially your promise. Oh! I'll n

ccount," and again

intoxication of h

I forgot. Sir Christophe

issed at him. "In Christ's name

w. Christopher was sent foreign, sore wounded, on the ship-pest!

," exclaimed Emlyn, in a strange, low vo

yn stood still, her hand upon her heart. Then she walked swiftly down the chapel, unlocked the door, and i

nt relief. "Sister Bridget here swore that she heard a man talkin

emale, or we should none of us be here. But, now you speak of it, I think there's something strange about that chapel. It is a place where some might fear to be alone, for twice when I knelt there at my prayers I have heard odd sounds,

ess shook her head and rema

harshly, for she is of a different world to ours, and I fear has met

hich there are many records, and that once I saw myself when I was a novice. The Prioress Matilda-I mean t

he earth two hundred years ago. Also, if her unquiet spirit still haunts the

ind ghosts, and I can well believe it, for she is a witch's daughter, and has a strange look in her eyes. Did you ever see such bold eyes, Mother? However it may be, I hate ghosts, and rather would I pass a month o

id Mother Matilda again. "Let us think of holi

ly. Running to the window-places, they saw great sheets of flame leaping from the Abbey roofs. They threw open the casements and stared out terrified. Sister Bridget was sent even to wake the deaf g

om a deaf gardener, was not easy to understand. Meanwhile the shoutings went on and the fire at the Abbey burnt e

n appeared among them, an

fixing her large blue eyes on Emlyn

you said it would be so, yonder amid the ashes

mlyn grimly, and the nuns around

ans of bed-coverings tied together and some by jumping, notwithstanding the height. Presently the roof of the building fell in, sending up showers of glowing embers, which

Emlyn sat on at the open casement till the rim of the splendid September sun showed above the hills. There she sat, her head resting

the first cut has bitten to the bone. Well, there shall be worse t