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Updated: June 7, 2025
Oh, the devil is playing a merry game round old Cranwell Towers to-night, and Thomas Bolle will take a hand in it." He was right. The devil was playing a merry game. At least, so thought others beside Thomas.
"The Lady Harflete, its owner, and Captain Thomas Bolle, for the cause of the King," called old Jacob Smith back to him. "By what warrant?" asked the man. "The Abbot of Blossholme is lord of Shefton, and Thomas Bolle is but a lay-brother of his monastery."
"Escaped prisoners being run down," muttered Bolle, but Cicely took no heed. There was something about the appearance of the rider of the grey horse that seemed to draw her heart out of her. She leaned forward on her beast's neck, staring with all her eyes. Now the two men were almost opposite the thicket, and the man in mail turned his face to his companion and called cheerily "We gain!
"Very wonderful," answered Bolle, as, standing in the grave, he took the head of the body and laid it down between his straddled feet; "so wonderful that a plain man wonders what will be the wondrous end of them, also why this noble young knight has grown so wondrously lighter than he used to be. Trouble and hunger in those burnt Towers, I suppose.
They went from the room down a passage and through another door, where the guards on duty looked suspiciously at Bolle and his sack, but at a word from Cromwell let them through into a large room in which a fire burned upon the hearth.
Oh, if the strength of that horse of Thomas Bolle's had failed one short five minutes sooner, she, in whom the red blood still ran so healthily, would have been but a handful of charred bones. Or if her faith had left her so that she had yielded to the Abbot and shortened all his talk at the place of burning, then Bolle would have come too late.
We'll not ride to-day, but to-morrow morning at the light." "Then my servant Emlyn must come also, Sir, to help me with the babe, and Thomas Bolle too, for he can prove that the witchcraft upon which we were condemned was but his trickery." "Yes, yes; but the costs of travel for so many will be great. Have you, perchance, any money?"
"But papa is strong," said Ella. "He once picked up a chair and knocked it down and smashed it to pieces." Though Ingigerd was suffering from nausea, she had to laugh. "Those children are great sport," she said. "Papa once threw a bottle against the wall," Siegfried went on, "because Uncle Bolle was always coming to see us."
Above the roaring of the gale there echoed a dull and heavy noise like to that of muffled thunder. Then after a moment's pause and silence the sky rained stones, and with them the limbs of men. "The gateway's gone," shouted a great voice, it was that of Bolle. "Out with the ladders!" Men who were waiting ran up with them and thrust them, four in all, athwart the moat.
Keep it, Thomas, as a gift; it is bought and paid for. Sister, your arm." "Have I done well, Emlyn?" Bolle asked, as he tightened the girths. "I don't know," she answered, looking at him sideways. "You played the cur at first, leaving us to burn for your sins, but afterwards, well, you found the wits you say you never lost.
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