CHAPTER XVII.
BETWEEN DOOM AND HONOUR The day was about to break when at last, utterly worn out in body and mind, Cicely and her party rode their stumbling horses up to the gates of Blossholme Priory.
"Pray God the nuns are still here," said Emlyn, who held the child, "for if they have been driven out and my mistress must go farther, I think that she will die.

Knock hard, Thomas, that old gardener is deaf as a wall." Bolle obeyed with good will, till presently the grille in the door was opened and a trembling woman's voice asked who was there.
"That's Mother Matilda," said Emlyn, and slipping from her horse, she ran to the bars and began to talk to her through them.

Then other nuns came, and between them they opened one of the large gates, for the gardener either could not or would not be aroused, and passed through it into the courtyard where, when it was understood that Cicely had really come again, there was a great welcoming.

But now she could hardly speak, so they made her swallow a bowl of milk and took her to her old room, where sleep of some kind overcame her.

When she awoke it was nine of the clock.