"Torture and slay me if you will, but my wealth you shall not thieve.

I know not where these jewels are, but wherever they may be, there let them lie till 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, who answered-- "What my mistress says, I say." "So be it!" he exclaimed.

"Doubtless you sorceresses put your trust in the devil.

Well, we shall see if he will help you to-morrow." "God will help us," replied Cicely in a quiet voice.

"Remember my words when the time comes." Then he went..