Then Diccon Bowman carried him out into the strangeness of the winter
midnight.
Outside, beyond the frozen moat, where the osiers, stood stark and stiff
in their winter nakedness, was a group of dark figures waiting for them
with horses. In the pallid moonlight Myles recognized the well-known
face of Father Edward, the Prior of St. Mary's.
After that came a long ride through that silent night upon the
saddle-bow in front of Diccon Bowman; then a deep, heavy sleep, that
fell upon him in spite of the galloping of the horses.
When next he woke the sun was shining, and his home and his whole life
were changed.
CHAPTER 2
From the time the family escaped from Falworth Castle that midwinter
night to the time Myles was sixteen years old he knew nothing of the
great world beyond Crosbey-Dale. A fair was held twice in a twelvemonth
at the market-town of Wisebey, and three times in the seven years old
Diccon Bowman took the lad to see the sights at that place. Beyond these
three glimpses of the outer world he lived almost as secluded a life as
one of the neighboring monks of St. Mary's Priory.
Crosbey-Holt, their new home, was different enough from Falworth or
Easterbridge Castle, the former baronial seats of Lord Falworth. It was
a long, low, straw-thatched farm-house, once, when the church lands were
divided into two holdings, one of the bailiff's houses.
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