The Lady of Blossholme

  In due course Thomas Bolle was found fast asleep in a neighbour's house,for after his adventures and triumph he had drunk hard and restedlong. When she discovered the truth Emlyn rated him well, calling hima beer-tub and not a man, and many other hard names, till at last sheprovoked him to answer, that had it not been for the said beer-tub shewould be but ash-dust this day. Thereon she turned the talk and toldthem their needs, and that he must ride with them to London. To thishe replied that good horses should be saddled by the dawn, for he knewwhere to lay hands on them, since some were left in the Abbot's stablesthat wanted exercise; further, that he would be glad to leave Blossholmefor a while, where he had made enemies on the yesterday, whose friendsyet lay wounded or unburied. After this Emlyn whispered something in hisear, to which he nodded assent, saying that he would bustle round and beready.

  That afternoon Emlyn went out riding with Thomas Bolle, who was fullyarmed, as she said, to try two of the horses that should carry them onthe morrow, and it was late when she returned out of the dark night.

  "Have you got them?" asked Cicely, when they were together in theirroom.

  "Aye," she answered, "every one; but some stones have fallen, and itwas hard to win an entrance to that vault. Indeed, had it not been forThomas Bolle, who has the strength of a bull, I could never have doneit. Moreover, the Abbot has been there before us and dug over every inchof the floor. But the fool never thought of the wall, so all's well.I'll sew half of them into my petticoat and half into yours, to sharethe risk. In case of thieves, the money that hungry Visitor has left tous, for I paid him over half when you signed the deeds, we will carryopenly in pouches upon our girdles. They'll not search further. Oh, Iforgot, I've something more besides the jewels, here it is," and sheproduced a packet from her bosom and laid it on the table.

  "What's this?" asked Cicely, looking suspiciously at the worn sail-clothin which it was wrapped.

  "How can I tell? Cut it and see. All I know is that when I stood at theNunnery door as Thomas led away the horses, a man crept on me out of therain swathed in a great cloak and asked if I were not Emlyn Stower. Isaid Yea, whereon he thrust this into my hand, bidding me not fail togive it to the Lady Harflete, and was gone."

  "It has an over-seas look about it," murmured Cicely, as with eager,trembling fingers she cut the stitches. At length they were undone and asealed inner wrapping also, revealing, amongst other documents, a littlepacket of parchments covered with crabbed, unreadable writing, on theback of which, however, they could decipher the names of Shefton andBlossholme by reason of the larger letters in which they were engrossed.Also there was a writing in the scrawling hand of Sir John Foterell, andat the foot of it his name and, amongst others, those of Father Nectonand of Jeffrey Stokes. Cicely stared at the deeds, then said--

  "Emlyn, I know these parchments. They are those that my father took withhim when he rode for London to disprove the Abbot's claim, and with themthe evidence of the traitorous words he spoke last year at Shefton. Yes,this inner wrapping is my own; I took it from the store of worn linen inthe passage-cupboard. But how come they here?"

  Emlyn made no answer, only lifted the wrappings and shook them, whereona strip of paper that they had not seen fell to the table.

  "This may tell us," she said. "Read, if you can; it has words on itsinner side."

  Cicely snatched at it, and as the writing was clear and clerkly, readwith ease save for the chokings of her throat. It ran--

  "My Lady Harflete,

  "These are the papers that Jeffrey Stokes saved when your father fell.They were given for safekeeping to the writer of these words, far awayacross the sea, and he hands them on unopened. Your husband lives and iswell again, also Jeffrey Stokes, and though they have been hindered ontheir journey, doubtless he will find his way back to England, whither,believing you to be dead, as I did, he has not hurried. There arereasons why I, his friend and yours, cannot see you or write more, sincemy duty calls me hence. When it is finished I will seek you out if Istill live. If not, wait in peace until your joy finds you, as I thinkit will.

  "One who loves your lord well, and for his sake you also."

  Cicely laid down the paper and burst into a flood of weeping.

  "Oh, cruel, cruel!" she sobbed, "to tell so much and yet so little. Nay,what an ungrateful wretch am I, since Christopher truly lives, and Ialso live to learn it, I, whom he deems dead."

  "By my soul," said Emlyn, when she had calmed her, "that cloaked man isa prince of messengers. Oh, had I but known what he bore I'd have hadall the story, if I must cling to him like Potiphar's wife to Joseph.Well, well, Joseph got away and half a herring is better than no fish,also this is good herring. Moreover, you have got the deeds when youmost wanted them and what is better, a written testimony that will bringthe traitor Maldon to the scaffold."