But he looked at her hands as though he dared not touch them. “I am a priest no more,” he said, “but an outlaw. So be it, though God has dealt strangely with me.” He turned his head and looked at the great cross. “The shape of a sword!” “There is a noble spirit in it, Martin Valliant.” “It shall be a cross—and a sword,” he answered her. _Chapter XVIII_ So Martin Valliant became an outlaw, Nature being stronger than the ingenious folly of dead saints. It was Mellis who captained the adventure, for she was quicker in thought than Martin, and the day’s happenings had stunned him not a little. She had her eyes on Woodmere, and both heart and head justified the choice. It was nearer to Troy Castle than the Black Moor, but this disadvantage was overbalanced by many virtues. The place lay in the thick of the woods; its broad mere made it very safe; and with but little labor the house itself could be put into a good state for defense. Arms and stores were hidden there. Moreover, it lay in the Red Rose country, where the Forest folk were most bitter against the Lord of Troy. John Falconer held Badger Hill; the Blounts were at Bloody Rood, just south of the Rondel toward the west. Mellis counted on the Forest rallying to her when the secret word went forth that Richmond was crossing the seas. “To horse, good comrade; or rather you and I will have to march and load the baggage on my horse. Have you much store of food?” “Half a sack of flour, and some yeast.” “Empty your cupboard into a couple of sacks. I will go and harness the horse.” Martin Valliant was looking at the dead men. He loitered a moment, as though he could not decide what should be done with them. “No, I’ll not touch them,” he said to himself. “I am a man of blood; let others do what is right and good.” He locked up the chapel and left the key hanging on a nail in his cell, nor did he touch anything in the cell itself save the food in the cupboard and larder. A couple of sacks served for the stowing away of the flour, the yeast, a bottle or two of wine, a paper of dried herbs, and some salted meat. He tied up the mouths of the sacks and carried them down to the stable. Mellis showed herself a very practical young woman. “Fasten those two sacks together, and we can sling them like panniers. Now, what else would make useful plunder? A coil of rope, if you have such a thing.” Martin remembered seeing a coil hanging in Father Jude’s tool-house. “Wait—and a felling ax and a crowbar. I’ll come with you.” They ransacked the tool-house, and Mellis blessed Father Jude. “The rope, yes, and that felling ax. This is a treasury, good comrade. Take that saw, and the mattock and spade.” “Here’s a crowbar.” “Oh, brave man! We shall bless these tools to-morrow. That big maul, too, and the billhook, and that auger hanging there.” “I can use the rope to lash them into a bundle.” “Of course. Give me the saw, the auger, and the billhook.”