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Updated: April 30, 2025
"It is true, then," he said to Father Roger Necton, the old clergyman of Cranwell, whom he had summoned from the vicarage. "I thought that fool of a messenger must be drunk. What can have chanced, Father?" "Death, I think, my son, for sure naught else would bring the Lady Cicely here unaccompanied save by a waiting-woman. The question is what will happen now?" and he glanced sideways at him.
Just then Cicely and Emlyn appeared among them, and stared at the great fire. Suddenly Cicely turned round, and, fixing her large blue eyes on Emlyn, said, in the hearing of them all "The Abbey burns. Why, Nurse, they told me that you said it would be so, yonder amid the ashes of Cranwell Towers. Surely you are foresighted."
You remember that on the day of the burning of Cranwell we sought refuge on the central tower, whence I carried you senseless to the vault. Now in that vault we lay all night, and while you swooned I searched with my fingers till I found a stone that time and damp had loosened, behind which was a hollow. In that hollow I hid the jewels that I carried wrapt in silk in the bosom of my robe.
But here it may be said that in the end things went otherwise, since, so far from getting the stewardship of Cranwell, when the truth came to be known, Jonathan's maiden would have no more to do with him, and the folk in those parts sacked his farm and hunted him out of the country, so that he was never heard of among them again.
Further, by means of notice sent herewith, I warn all that cling to you and abet you in your crimes that they will do so at the peril of their souls and bodies. "Clement Maldon, Abbot of Blossholme." A week had gone by. For the first three days of that time little of note had happened at Cranwell Towers; that is, no assault was delivered.
Now you must look to yourself. Your father is gone, but one remains." Cicely lifted her tear-stained face. "Yes, I have you," she said. "Me!" she answered, with a quick smile. "Nay, of what use am I? Your nursing days are over. What did you tell me your father said to you before he rode about Sir Christopher? Hush! there's no time to talk; you must away to Cranwell Towers." "Why?" asked Cicely.
Still I dared do no more and it served to stop his lying mouth before he betrayed me. Oh, my poor master, my poor old master!" Bruised and sore as he was and he was very sore within little over an hour Abbot Maldon was back at the ruin of Cranwell Towers. It seemed strange that he should go there, but in truth his uneasy heart would not let him rest. His plans had succeeded only far too well.
"Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord," murmured Cicely in a gentle voice. "The Lord also said that whoso sheddeth man's blood by man shall his blood be shed. Why, I've heard this Maldon quote it to your husband at Cranwell Towers." "So will it be, Emlyn, if so it is to be, only let others shed that cruel blood.
For as they passed along the Blossholme highway, purposing to leave the Abbey on their left, when they were about three miles from Cranwell, suddenly a tall fellow, who wore a great sheepskin coat with a monk's hood to it and carried a thick staff in his hand, burst through the fence and stood in front of them. "Who are you?" asked Christopher, laying his hand upon his sword.
"Now, man my man who, if we live through this, shall be my husband if you will yes, my husband, for I'll pay, and be proud of it listen to my commands. See you, I am Moses, and yonder in the Abbey 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.
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