"Now ride for it," said Jeffrey.

"I cannot," answered Sir John. "One of those knaves has hurt my mare,"
and he pointed to blood that ran from a great gash in the beast's
foreleg, which it held up piteously.

"Take mine," said Jeffrey; "I'll dodge them afoot."

"Never, man! To the willows; we will hold our own there;" and, springing
from the wounded beast, which tried to hobble after them, but could not,
for its sinews were cut, he ran to the shelter of the trees, followed by
Jeffrey on his horse.

"Who are these rogues?" he asked.

"The Abbot's men-at-arms," answered Jeffrey. "I saw the face of him I
spitted."

Now Sir John's jaw dropped.

"Then we are sped, friend, for they dare not let us go. Cicely dreams
well."

As he spoke an arrow whistled by them.

"Jeffrey," he went on, "I have papers on me that should not be lost,
for with them might go my girl's heritage. Take them," and he thrust
a packet into his hand, "and this purse also. There's plenty in it.
Away--anywhere, and lie hid out of reach a while, or they'll still your
tongue. Then I charge you on your soul, come back with help and hang