At this moment a loud crash was heard, and one of the miller’s men cried out that the arquebussiers had burst open the door.

“Be hondy, then, lads, and let him down!” cried Hal o’ Nabs, who had some difficulty in maintaining his footing on the rough, stony bottom of the swift stream.

Passively yielding, the abbot suffered the miller and one of the stoutest of his men to assist him through the trapdoor, while a third held down the lamp, and showed Hal o’ Nabs, up to his middle in the darkling current, and stretching out his arms to receive the burden.  The light fell upon the huge black circle of the watershed now stopped, and upon the dripping arches supporting the mill.  In another moment the abbot plunged into the water, the trapdoor was replaced, and bolted underneath by Hal, who, while guiding his companion along, and bidding him catch hold of the wood-work of the wheel, heard a heavy trampling of many feet on the boards above, showing that the pursuers had obtained admittance.

Encumbered by his heavy vestments, the abbot could with difficulty contend against the strong current, and he momently expected to be swept away; but he had a stout and active assistant by his side, who soon placed him under shelter of the wheel.  The trampling overhead continued for a few minutes, after which all was quiet, and Hal judged that, finding their search within ineffectual, the enemy would speedily come forth.  Nor was he deceived.  Shouts were soon heard at the door of the mill, and the glare of torches was cast on the stream.  Then it was that Hal dragged his companion into a deep hole, formed by some decay in the masonry, behind the wheel, where the water rose nearly to their chins, and where they were completely concealed.  Scarcely were they thus ensconced, than two or three armed men, holding torches aloft, were seen wading under the archway; but after looking carefully around, and even approaching close to the water-wheel, these persons could detect nothing, and withdrew, muttering curses of rage and disappointment.  By-and-by the lights almost wholly disappeared, and the shouts becoming fainter and more distant, it was evident that the men had gone lower down the river.  Upon this, Hal thought they might venture to quit their retreat, and accordingly, grasping the abbot’s arm, he proceeded to wade up the stream.

Benumbed with cold, and half dead with terror, Paslew needed all his companion’s support, for he could do little to help himself, added to which, they occasionally encountered some large stone, or stepped into a deep hole, so that it required Hal’s utmost exertion and strength to force a way on.  At last they were out of the arch, and though both banks seemed unguarded, yet, for fear of surprise, Hal deemed it prudent still to keep to the river.  Their course was completely sheltered from observation by the mist that enveloped them; and after proceeding in this way for some distance, Hal stopped to listen, and while