"Not to start? And why?"

"Because, father, I have dreamed a bad dream. At first last night I
could not sleep, and when at length I did I dreamed that dream thrice,"
and she paused.

"Go on, Cicely; I am not afraid of dreams, which are but
foolishness--coming from the stomach."

"Mayhap; yet, father, it was so plain and clear I can scarcely bear to
tell it to you. I stood in a dark place amidst black things that I knew
to be trees. Then the red dawn broke upon the snow, and I saw a little
pool with brown rushes frozen in its ice. And there--there, at the edge
of the pool, by a pollard willow with one white limb, you lay, your bare
sword in your hand and an arrow in your neck, shot from behind, while in
the trunk of the willow were other arrows, and lying near you two slain.
Then cloaked men came as though to carry them away, and I awoke. I say I
dreamed it thrice."

"A jolly good morrow indeed," said Sir John, turning a shade paler. "And
now, daughter, what do you make of this business?"

"I? Oh! I make that you should stop at home and send some one else to do
your business. Sir Christopher, for instance."

"Why, then I should baulk your dream, which is either true or false.
If true, I have no choice, it must be fulfilled; if false, why should I
heed it? Cicely, I am a plain man and take no note of such fancies. Yet
I have enemies, and it may well chance that my day is done. If so, use