The Lady of Blossholme

  On the Sunday--that is, the day before the burning--the Abbot cameagain.

  "Three days ago," he said, addressing them both, "I offered you a chanceof life upon certain conditions, but, obstinate witches that you are,you refused to listen. Now I offer you the last boon in my power--notlife, indeed; it is too late for that--but a merciful death. If you willgive me what I seek, the executioner shall dispatch you both before thefire bites--never mind how. If not--well, as I have told you, there hasbeen much rain, and they say the faggots are somewhat green."

  Cicely paled a little--who would not, even in those cruel days?--thenasked--

  "And what is it that you seek, or that we can give? A confession of ourguilt, to cover up your crime in the eyes of the world? If so, you shallnever have it, though we burn by inches."

  "Yes, I seek that, but for your own sakes, not for mine, since those whoconfess and repent may receive absolution. Also I seek more--the richjewels which you have in hiding, that they may be used for the purposesof the Church."

  Then it was that Cicely showed the courage of her blood.

  "Never, never!" she cried, turning on him with eyes ablaze. "Tortureand slay me if you will, but my wealth you shall not thieve. I know notwhere these jewels are, but wherever they may be, there let them lietill my heirs find them, or they rot."

  The Abbot's face grew very evil.

  "Is that your last word, Cicely Foterell?" he asked.

  She bowed her head, and he repeated the question to Emlyn, whoanswered--

  "What my mistress says, I say."

  "So be it!" he exclaimed. "Doubtless you sorceresses put your trust inthe devil. Well, we shall see if he will help you to-morrow."

  "God will help us," replied Cicely in a quiet voice. "Remember my wordswhen the time comes."

  Then he went.