pearl must be left in trusty hands for sale. So
at what hour do we ride on this mad errand?"

"At eleven of the clock," answered Cicely, "if the King's safe-conduct
and commission have come by then."

"So be it. Then I bid you good-night. Come with me, worthy Bolle, for
there'll be no sleep for us. I go to call my clerks and you must go to
the stable. Lady Harflete and you, Cousin Emlyn, get you to bed."

On the following morning Cicely rose with the dawn, nor was she sorry to
do so, who had spent but a troubled night. For long sleep would not come
to her, and when it did at length, she was tossed upon a sea of
dreams, dreams of the King, who threatened her with his great voice; of
Cromwell, who took everything she had down to her cloak; of Commissioner
Legh, who dragged her back to the stake because he had lost his bribe.

But most of all she dreamed of Christopher, her beloved husband, who was
so near and yet as far away as he had ever been, a prisoner in the hands
of the rebels; her husband who deemed her dead.

From all these phantasies she awoke weeping and oppressed by fears.
Could it be that when at length the cup of joy was so near her lips fate
waited to dash it down again? She knew not, who had naught but faith to
lean on, that faith which in the past had served her well. Meanwhile,
she was sure that if Christopher lived he would make his way to Cranwell
or to Blossholme, and, whatever the risk, thither she would go also as
fast as horses could carry her.

Hurry as they would, midday was an hour gone ere they rode out of
Cheapside. There was so much to do, and even then things were left
undone. The four of them travelled humbly clad, giving out that they
were a party of merchant folk returning to Cambridge after a visit to
London as to an inheritance in which they were interested, especially
Cicely, who posed as a widow named Johnson. This was their story, which
they varied from time to time according to circumstances. In some ways
their minds were more at ease than when they travelled to the great
city, for now at least they were clear of the horrid company of
Commissioner Legh and his people, nor were they haunted by the knowledge
that they had about them jewels of great price. All these jewels were
left behind in safe keeping, as were also the writings under the King's
hand and seal, of which they only took attested copies, and with them
the commission that Cromwell had duly sent to Cicely addressed to