your mother wit, girl; beware of Maldon, look to yourself, and as for
your mother's jewels, hide them," and he turned to go.

She clasped him by the arm.

"In that sad case what should I do, father?" she asked eagerly.

He stopped and stared at her up and down.

"I see that you believe in your dream," he said, "and therefore,
although it shall not stay a Foterell, I begin to believe in it too. In
that case you have a lover whom I have forbid to you. Yet he is a man
after my own heart, who would deal well by you. If I die, my game is
played. Set your own anew, sweet Cicely, and set it soon, ere that Abbot
is at your heels. Rough as I may have been, remember me with kindness,
and God's blessing and mine be on you. Hark! Jeffrey calls, and if they
stand, the horses will take cold. There, fare you well. Fear not for me,
I wear a chain shirt beneath my cloak. Get back to bed and warm you,"
and he kissed her on the brow, thrust her from him and was gone.

Thus did Cicely and her father part--for ever.



All that day Sir John and Jeffrey, his serving-man, trotted forward
through the snow--that is, when they were not obliged to walk because
of the depth of the drifts. Their plan was to reach a certain farm in a
glade of the woodland within two hours of sundown, and sleep there, for
they had taken the forest path, leaving again for the Fens and Cambridge
at the dawn. This, however, proved not possible because of the exceeding