The Lady of Blossholme

is retainer rode in silenc

inded to stick his Spanish pick-tooth between our ribs, and sh

his bullies are in the Ford ale-house seeing the Old Year out, and so put it off. Master, I have alway

you mea

not wisdom. You have showed y

hn angrily. "I meant that he should hea

those who court her. Was it needful to tell him that

ll be there

s past the Abbey, and that priest has good ru

he dare not. Still, to please you, we wil

u cannot leave the Lady Cicely without a guard, or take her with you through this cold. Remember there's wealth yonder which some may need more even than your lands," he adde

him that of the King. No, no; I ride to-morrow at the dawn with you, or,

louring. "Your road has been good enough for me this thirty years, and it is good enough now. If I war

ll, my temper is up to-day. Thank the saints! here is the ha

hich the moonlight showed very

"I know the shoeing and the round shape of the

m," grumbled Sir John, swing

horse. "Christopher Harflete may yet be a good frie

to be set at naught in my own house by a chit of a gi

eplied the imperturbable Jeffr

galleries and upstairs to the sitting-chamber above the hall, which, since her mother's death, his daughter had used as her own, for here he

chair, with the light of the blazing fire falling full upon her, was Cicely Foterell, Sir John's only surviving child. She was a tall and graceful maiden, blue-eyed, brown-haired, fair-skinned, with a round and child-like face which most p

nothing. At this moment, indeed, his copious flow of words came to an end, perhaps from exhaustion, perhaps for other reasons, and was succeeded by a more effective method of attack. Suddenly sinking from the stool to his knees, he took the unresisting hand of Cicely and kissed it several times; then, emboldened by his success, thre

dear Christopher,

"So long as you love me

my father will have none of you. Get you hence now, ere he returns, or we bot

here to ask his co

st Sir Joh

as though she would faint, and the strong Christopher staggered like a man pierced by an arrow. "First to take my girl and hug her b

t part of her that came to his hand, which chanced to be one of her long brown plaits of hair, and tugged at it ti

he said in a low, fierce voic

John. "Why, who holds her tightest,

r," she whispered, "e

the chair, but her father still

e said, "I am minded to p

Well, do it if you will, and when we are dead and y

from a child. With him I shall have happiness, without him black despair; and that is his case too, or so he swears. Why, then, should you part us? Is he not a proper man and

usband for you. The Lord Despard is taken with your baby face, a

nth! Father, he is as old as you are, and drunken, and has grandchildren of wel

live to take you," m

him, his will be the greatest heritage within three shires. Moreover, I need his friendship, wh

wn, answer me one question. Why have you changed your tune to me of late? Am I not the same Christophe

ur uncle whose heir you were has married and bred a son, and now you are but a gentleman of good name, and litt

hold you foolish. I love your daughter and she loves me, and those lands and more may come back, or I, who am no fool, will win others. Soon there will be plenty going up

the girl away?" aske

re that Despard the sot never will, for I'll kill him first, if I hang for it. Sir, sir, surely you will not throw your pearl upon that muckheap. Better crush it beneath yo

moved him to pity, for at bottom his heart was honest, and though he treated her so r

en he thought a while, and added, "Hear me, now, Christopher Harflete. To-morrow

usiness

deeds and prove him a liar and a traitor also, which Cromwell does not know. Now, is my nest safe from you while I am away? Give me your word, and I'll believe you, for at least you are an honest gen

needs my company she must come for it to Cranwell

again-not to please you, but because I hate writing. It is a labour to me, and I have no time

ce after a quarrel with Abbot Maldon. Let me wait on you. Although my fortunes be so

ng, you might be wanted nearer home. Christopher, you shall never have my girl; she's not for you. Yet, perhaps, if need were, you would strike a blow for her even if it made you excommunicate. Get hence, w

rit, for she knew her father, and the worst of her fear had departed. "Only, sir

, I'll stretch their necks. Get you to your c

om she sent a message with her eyes that she dared not utter with her lips, and so vanished

said Sir John, who, lost in his own

resently the pair of them passed through the door and down the long passage beyond. At a turn

me, even if we must

each other. Your father does not mean all he says, and his temper, which has been stirred to-day, will soft

ved riding," sh

ty, for I'll stick him first. And I have friends b

Now, away from me, or one will come to

he said rapidly; "also she loves me well. If

ithout fail," and glide

" asked Sir John, glancing at Christopher fr

house of yours are most wondrous long, a

r wrong turns, and such partings are hard. Now,

that you may

and you have lost your heritage. She is the only jewel that I can pawn, and for your own safety's sake and her children's sake, must marry well. Yonder Despard will not live long, he drinks too hard; and then your day may come, if you still care for his leavings-perhaps in t

had already gone to fetch the horses-when the door opened and his daughter entered the great hall, candle in hand, wrap

ked. "You'll take your death

im, "I came to bid you farewell,

start? A

rst last night I could not sleep, and when at lengt

of dreams, which are but fooli

I saw a little pool with brown rushes frozen in its ice. And there-there, at the edge of the pool, by a pollard willow with one white limb, you lay, your bare sword in your hand and an arrow in you

hn, turning a shade paler. "And now, daug

home and send some one else to do your

ld I heed it? Cicely, I am a plain man and take no note of such fancies. Yet I have enemies, and it may well chance that my day is done.

ed him by

t should I do, father

d stared at h

uld deal well by you. If I die, my game is played. Set your own anew, sweet Cicely, and set it soon, ere that Abbot is at your heels. Rough as I may have been, remember me with kindness, and God's blessing and mine be on you. Hark! J

and her father

he Fens and Cambridge at the dawn. This, however, proved not possible because of the exceeding badness of the road. So it came about that when the darkness closed in on them a little before five o'clock, bringing with it a cold, moaning wind and a scurry of snow, they were obliged to shelter in a faggot-built woodman's hut, waitin

light pierced the

hn, "let us be going er

by patches of hawthorns, and here and there by the gaunt shape of a pollard oak, since this being the outskirt of the forest, folk came hither to lop the tops of the trees for firing. A hundred and fifty yards away or so, at the crest of a slope, was a round-shaped hill, made, not by

th all the slain for rowers; also that he might be seen at nights seated on his horse in armour, and staring about him, as when he

clear moonlight Sir John saw a man, who sat, still as any statue, upon a horse on the very point of King's Grave. He appeared to be covered with a long cloak, b

fellow there?"

ow, for the wolves, of which there were plenty in his day, picked his bones clean, and so have many others for hundreds of years; always just before their doom. He

death will come. Moreover, I believe nothing of the

-time when there are no trees to cut or cattle to mind! Well, have it as you will, ma

hing whither we go," an

case I would sooner meet the devil, for this means mi

I will go on alone, who, being on an honest b

e-breeks pressed us hard, yet I never itched to turn my back, even after that great fellow with an axe got you down, and we thought that all was lost. Then shall I do so now?-though it is t

he edges of bog-holes, or through brakes of thorns. Hard enough it was to find it at times, since the snow made it one with the bordering ground, and the gloom of the oaks was great. But

crossed that which they rode upon, and here Je

it?" aske

orses passed within two hours, since the

ourselves. Ride on, man; th

ffrey b

not chapmen's or farmers' nags, and I think I know their breed. I sa

John indifferently. "I am col

it when you are colder," mutte

sh-trees would grow there. To their right lay a little ice-covered mere, with sere, brown reeds standing here and there upon its face, and at the end of it a group of stark pollarded willows, whereof the tops had been cut for poles by those who dwelt in the forest farm near by. Sir John looked at the plac

nearer to that farm than

down on them from out of the shelter of a thorn-brake, an

. "At them now, Jeffrey, an

them, and some one commanded them to yield. Sir John rushed at the fellow, and, rising in his stirrups, cut him down. He fell all of a heap and lay still in the snow, which grew crimson abou

too warm for them, swung round an

for it," s

urt my mare," and he pointed to blood that ran from a gre

Jeffrey; "I'll d

e wounded beast, which tried to hobble after them, but could not, for its sinews

ese rogues?

answered Jeffrey. "I saw

ohn's jaw

, for they dare not let u

an arrow whi

t into his hand, "and this purse also. There's plenty in it. Away-anywhere, and lie hid out of reach a while, or they'll still your tongue. Then

y purse and deeds

be butchered?" he mutt

hat an arrow, shot from behind, had pierced him through the throat; saw, too, he

die;" and, turning his horse, he drove the rowels i

o the open moonlight to draw the arrows. They came fast enough, but ere ever he fell, for that steel shirt of his was str

ho knew that all roads were blocked, and who dared not venture home, doubling like a hare acros