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Updated: June 3, 2025
Indeed, she was very, very ill, and perhaps would have passed away had it not been for a device of Emlyn's. For when she was at her worst and the Flounder, shaking her head and saying that she could do no more, had departed to her eternal ale and a nap, Emlyn crept up and took her mistress's cold hand. "Darling," she said, "hear me," but Cicely did not stir.
However, Emlyn stuck to the hope, and he was so far inspired by it that he ceased to insist on giving up the pledges of the betrothal, and he lay on the settle in quiet enjoyment of Emlyn's castle building, as she sat on a stool by his side, his hand on her shoulder, somewhat as it was wont to lie on Growler's head.
This silenced the other lads, and Emlyn's desire to get away from them accomplished what Steadfast wished, she put her hand into his and let him lead her away, and as there were sounds of another troop of cavalry coming up the lane, the boys did not attempt to follow her.
If only she could have words with that faithful Thomas Bolle, the fierce and cunning man whom they thought foolish! This idea of Thomas Bolle took possession of Emlyn's mind Thomas Bolle, who had loved her all his life, who would die to serve her. She strove in vain to get in touch with him. The old gardener was so deaf that he could not, or would not, understand.
"Yes, Sir, about L50 in gold that is sewn up in one of Emlyn's robes." "Ah! A sufficient sum. Too much indeed to be risked upon your persons in these rough times. You will let me take charge of half of it for you?" "With pleasure, Sir, trusting you as I do. Keep to your bargain and I will keep to mine." "Good.
"By the Abbot of Blossholme's soldiers so says Emlyn, yonder in the forest last eve. And the Abbot is coming to Shefton to declare me his ward and thrust me into the Nunnery that was Emlyn's tale. And so, although it is a strange thing to do, having none to protect me, I have fled to you because Emlyn said I ought."
"Dear heart!" and "Poor soul!" and was quite sure Stead was as good as a dead man; but she had strong arms, and so had Patience, and when they had done what they could to stanch the wound in his side, which however, was not bleeding much externally, they carried him in between them to Patience's bed which had been Emlyn's, and therefore was the least uncomfortable.
"Bring bows," he cried, "and shoot them, for they have none!" and men ran off to do his bidding. Then it was that Emlyn's wit came to their aid, for when Bolle shook his red head and gasped out that he feared they were lost, since how could they fight against arrows, she answered "If so, why stand here to be spitted, fool?
And taking a little black Bible from within his breastplate, he seemed about to give them a specimen, when Emlyn's impatience and hunger no doubt getting the better of her prudence, she crept into the room, and presently was seen standing by Steadfast's knee, holding out her hand for some of the bread and cheese on the table.
In an instant she understood that he dreaded lest he should be betrayed and given over to some awful doom. "Fear nothing," she whispered as she passed, and he heard her, or perhaps Emlyn's glance told him that he was safe. At least, a sign of relief broke from him. Now they had entered the roped space, and stood there.
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