One morning at the dawn, after a very bitter night, they waited upon Christopher and told him that they were willing to fight for his sake and his lady’s, but that, as there was no hope of help, they could no longer freeze and starve; in short, that they must either escape from the house or surrender.  He listened to them patiently, knowing that what they said was true, and then consulted for a while with Cicely and Emlyn.

“Our case is desperate, dear wife.  Now what shall we do, who have no chance of succour, since none know of our plight?  Yield, or strive to escape through the darkness?”

“Not yield, I think,” answered Cicely, choking back a sob.  “If we yield certainly they will separate us, and that merciless Abbot will bring you to your death and me to a nunnery.”

“That may happen in any case,” muttered Christopher, turning his head aside.  “But what say you, Nurse?”

“I say fight for it,” answered Emlyn boldly.  “It is certain that we cannot stay here, for, to be plain, Sir Christopher, there are some among us whom I do not trust.  What wonder?  Their stomachs are empty, their hands are blue, their wives and children are they know not where, and the heavy curse of the Church hangs over them, all of which things may be mended if they play you false.  Let us take what horses remain and slip away at dead of night if we can; or if we cannot, then let us die, as many better folk have done before.”

So they agreed to try their fortune, thinking that it was so bad it could not be worse, and spent the rest of that day in getting ready as best they could.  The seven horses still stood in the stable, and although they were stiff from want of exercise, had been hay-fed and watered.  On these they proposed to ride, but first they must tell the truth to those who had stood by them.  So about three o’clock of the afternoon Christopher called all the men together beneath the gateway and sorrowfully set out his tale.  Here, he showed them, they could bide no longer, and to surrender meant that his new-wed wife would soon be made a widow.  Therefore they must fly, taking with them as many as there were horses for them to ride, if they cared to risk such a journey.  If not, he and the two women would go alone.

Now four of the stoutest-hearted of them, men who had served him and his father for many years, stepped forward, saying that, evil as these seemed to be, they would follow his fortunes to the last.  He thanked them shortly, whereon one of the others asked what they were to do, and if he proposed to desert them after leading them into this plight.

“God knows I would rather die,” he replied, with a swelling heart; “but, my friends, consider the case.  If I bide here, what of my wife?  Alas! it has come to this:  that you must choose whether you will slip out with us and scatter in the woods, where I think you will not be followed, since yonder Abbot has no quarrel against you; or whether you will wait here, and to-morrow at the dawn, surrender.  In either event you can say that I compelled you to stand by us, and that you have shed no man’s blood; also I will give you a writing.”