despair. "Cicely and Emlyn, get you into the house. I, and any who will
bide with me, stay here to see this business out. When I am down, yield
yourself. Afterwards I think that the King will give you justice, if you
can come to him."

"I'll not go," she wailed; "I'll die with you."

"Nay, you shall go," he said, stamping his foot, and, as he spoke,
an arrow hissed between them. "Emlyn, drag her hence ere she is shot.
Swift, I say, swift, or God's curse and mine rest on you. Unclasp your
arms, wife; how can I fight while you hang about my neck? What! Must I
strike you? Then, there and there!"

She loosed her grasp, and, groaning, fell back upon the breast of Emlyn,
who half led, half carried her across the courtyard, where their scared
horses galloped loose.

"Whither go we?" sobbed Cicely.

"To the central tower," answered Emlyn; "it seems safest there."

To this tower, whence the place took its name, they groped their way.
Unlike the rest of the house, which for the most part was of wood, it
was built of stone, being part of an older fabric dating from the Norman
days. Slowly they stumbled up the steps till at length they reached the
roof, for some instinct prompted them to find a spot whence they
could see, should the stars break out. Here, on this lofty perch, they
crouched them down and waited the end, whatever it might be--waited in
silence.

A while passed--they never knew how long--till at length a sudden flame
shot up above the roof of the kitchens at the rear, which the wind
caught and blew on to the timbers of the main building, so that
presently this began to blaze also. The house had been fired, by whom
was never known, though it was said that the traitor, Jonathan Dicksey,
had returned and done it, either for a bribe or that his own sin might
be forgotten in this great catastrophe.

"The house burns," said Emlyn in her quiet voice. "Now, if you would
save your life, follow me. Beneath this tower is a vault where no flame
can touch us."

But Cicely would not stir, for by the fierce and ever-growing light she
could see what passed beneath, and, as it chanced, the wind blew the
smoke away from them. There, beyond the drawbridge, were gathered the
Abbey guards, and there in the gateway stood Christopher and his three
men with drawn swords, while in the courtyard the horses galloped madly,
screaming in their fear. A soldier looked up and saw the two women
standing on the top of the tower, then called