"But I found Cicely here in the streets of Oxford," said Miles.
"Found—Cicely—in—the—street," slowly uttered Master Baldock, who thought Miles must have sought to drown his sorrow in too much Canary, and said as much to the young man.
But Miles could afford to be good-tempered, and he laughed at the insinuation, as he said, "It is true enough, Master Baldock. It seems that they sent her in charge of two sisters to another convent in the city, but the Town and Gown riot frightened the women, and they ran away from the mob, and bade Cicely follow them. But she had caught sight of a poor woman coming out of a shop, and ran towards her, not knowing I was close at hand, for the woman ran screaming to me to rescue a girl who had fallen down almost at the feet of the mob. I picked her up and carried her to the woman's home, thinking it was her daughter, until her face was uncovered, and I recognised my Cicely. I have left her there, for I know the people well, and the man would lay down his life to defend her."
This story astonished Master Baldock. "The she-wolf has outwitted herself for once, then," he said, in a tone of satisfaction.
The two hastened back to the hostelry, for now that the city gates were closed and the shops shut up, it was scarcely safe to be abroad without an armed guard being in attendance. They had left the hostelry in such hot haste that there had been no time to summon those who had attended them from London, and it was certainly unsafe for strangers to be out so late unattended.
The next day letters were sent by different messengers to the parents of the novices who wished to return home. These friends were informed that for the better ruling and guidance of the Church the monastic system was to be gradually restricted, and for the next few years no more novices of either sex would be allowed to take the vows of the monastic life. The great abuses which had crept into the abbeys and convents had forced the heads of the Church to exercise this discipline, and therefore the daughter or niece had been sent back to the care of her friends, and the business of her dowry would be settled later.
Having settled this matter, Master Baldock began to look round for a temporary home for these novices, for he scarcely liked to trust them to the tender mercies of the woman who had deceived him so grossly. But no one cared to shelter girls who would practically break their vows by leaving the convent, even under the protection of the Cardinal's commissioner; and as there were no married clergy in the city, no one of importance, who could protect the girls from scandal, was willing to run the risk of offending the higher clergy by receiving a disgraced nun; and so, for want of protectors, they were obliged to remain in the convent, and Cicely was securely hidden in the little homely cottage that had first received her.
The business upon which Miles and his friend had been sent was pressed forward with all diligence, and the two commissioners found little difficulty, after sending the novices home, in finding accommodation for the nuns of two convents, and even three where the sisterhood was very small, in one only.
By this means the revenue of the houses that were suppressed could be taken for the further development of colleges, schools, and learning generally, while the buildings themselves could either be pulled down and their stones used in the completion of the Cardinal College, or they might be used for grammar schools or hostelries for students, who, at present, often had to beg from door to door like the monks, to maintain themselves while mastering the Greek and Latin tongues, or preparing themselves to take their degrees as Doctors of Law or Philosophy; and this daily hunt for food often sorely hindered them in their studies, the Cardinal knew.
Miles knew it, too, by bitter experience, so that he was willing enough to press forward the work for the work's own sake, to say nothing of the plan he had formed in his mind of taking Cicely to Woodstock until she should become his wife.