al, of this or other realms against the said Cicely
Harflete or against the said Christopher Harflete, her husband, nor seek
to work injury to their bodies or their souls, or to the bodies or the
souls of any who cling to them, and that henceforth they may live and
die in peace from me or any whom I control. Set your lips to the Rood
and swear thus now, Clement Maldon."

The Abbot hearkened, and so great was his rage, for he had no meek
heart, that he seemed to swell like an angry toad.

"Who gave you authority to administer oaths to me?" he asked at length.
"I'll not swear," and he cast the crucifix down upon the snow.

"Then I'll shoot," answered Christopher. "Come, pick up that cross."

But Maldon stood silent, his arms folded on his breast. Christopher
aimed and loosed, and so great was his skill--for there were few archers
in England like to him--that the arrow pierced Maldon's fur cap and
carried it away without touching the shaven head beneath.

"The next shall be two inches lower," he said, as he set another on the
string. "I waste no more good shafts."

Then, very slowly, to save his life, which he loved well enough, Maldon
bent down, and, lifting the crucifix from the snow, held it to his lips
and kissed it, muttering--

"I swear." But the oath he swore was very different to that which
Christopher had repeated to him, for, like a hunted fox, he knew how to
meet guile with guile.

"Now that I, a consecrated abbot, deeming it right that I should live on
to fulfil my work on earth, have done your bidding, have I leave to go
about my business, Christopher Harflete?" he asked, with bitter irony.

"Why not?" asked Christopher. "Only be pleased henceforth not to meddle
with me and my business. To-morrow I wish to ride to London with my
lady, and we do not seek your company on the road."

Then, having found his cap, the Abbot turned and walked back towards his
own men, drawing the arrow from it as he went, and presently all of them
rode away over the rise towards Blossholme.

"Now that is well finished, and I have an oath that he will scarcely
dare to break," said Christopher presently. "What say you, Nurse?"

"I say that you are even a bigger simpleton than I took you to be,"
answered Emlyn angrily, as she rose and stretched herself, for her limbs
were cramped. "The oath, pshaw! By now he is absolved from it as given
under fear. Did you not hear me whisper to you to put an arrow through
his heart, instea