The day after he arrived he again renewed his demand to the abbess for the surrender of the Lady Margaret; this time, however, coming to her attended only by two squires, and by a pursuivant bearing the king’s order for the delivery of the damsel.  The abbess met him at the gate, and informed him that the Lady Margaret was no longer in her charge.

“Finding,” she said in a fearless tone, “that the holy walls of this convent were insufficient to restrain lawless men, and fearing that these might be tempted to acts of sacrilege, which might bring down upon them the wrath of the church and the destruction of their souls, I have sent her away.”

“Whither has she gone?” Sir Rudolph demanded, half-mad with passion.

“That I decline to say,” the lady abbess replied.  “She is in good hands; and when King Richard returns his ward shall be delivered to him at once.”

“Will you take oath upon the Bible that she is not within these walls?” Sir Rudolph exclaimed.

“My word is sufficient,” the lady abbess replied calmly.  “But should it be necessary, I should be ready to swear upon the relics that she is not here.”

A few hours later Sir Rudolph, attended by his own party and by one hundred of Sir Charles Everest’s mercenaries, returned to his castle.

Three days afterward, as Cuthbert was sitting at a rude but hearty meal in the forest, surrounded by Cnut and his followers, a hind entered breathless.  Cuthbert at once recognized him as one of the servitors of his mother.

“What is it?” he exclaimed, leaping to his feet.

“Terrible news, Master Cuthbert, terrible news!” exclaimed the man.  “The wicked earl came down this morning, with fifty of his men, set fire to the house, and all its buildings and stacks, and has carried off the lady, your mother, a prisoner to the castle, on a charge, as he said, of harboring traitors.”

A cry of fury broke from Cnut and his men.

“The false traitor shall bitterly regret this outrage,” Cuthbert exclaimed.

He had in the first excitement seized his arms, and his followers snatched up their bows, as if for instant warfare.  A few moments’ reflection, however, showed to Cuthbert the impossibility of his attacking a fortress like Evesham, garrisoned by a strong body of well-armed men, with only the archers of the forest, without implements necessary for such an assault.

“Send at once, Cnut,” he said, “and call in all the band.  We cannot take the castle; but we will carry fire and sword round its walls.  We will cut off all communication from within or from without.  If attacked by large forces, we will retire upon the wood, returning to our posts without the walls as soon as the force is withdrawn.  These heavily armed men can move but slowly, while we can run at full speed.  There cannot be more than some twenty horsemen in the castle; and methinks with our arrows and pikes we can drive these back if they attempt to fall upon us.”