was believed by many, a curse had been inherited, uttered by the last monk who passed out of the monastery grates. It ran thus: "The abbey and its lands shall go from the De Lisles, even as it came to them, by fire and sword".

Now the prophecy had been fulfilled. Gilbert de Lisle, the last of his race, had fallen fighting for King Charles in the Battle of Worcester. He left no children--the race was extinct.

Now the prophecy had been fulfilled. Gilbert de Lisle, the last of his race, had fallen fighting for King Charles in the Battle of Worcester. He left no children--the race was extinct.

So Cromwell had bestowed the land and all that appertained thereto, the dower-house and the abbey itself, upon Colonel Newbolt, to be his and his heirs' after him. Thither he had brought his wife and children, had spent a considerable sum of money in restoring the house, which had been injured during the war; but the chapel remained a ruin--even that was a concession--and many blamed him for not razing it to the ground. Cromwell's soldiers had finished Henry VIII's vandalism, mutilated the few remaining statues, and broken to pieces the stained-glass window over the altar.

So Cromwell had bestowed the land and all that appertained thereto, the dower-house and the abbey itself, upon Colonel Newbolt, to be his and his heirs' after him. Thither he had brought his wife and children, had spent a considerable sum of money in restoring the house, which had been injured during the war; but the chapel remained a ruin--even that was a concession--and many blamed him for not razing it to the ground. Cromwell's soldiers had finished Henry VIII's vandalism, mutilated the few remaining statues, and broken to pieces the stained-glass window over the altar.

In the country around it was whispered that at midnight there were shadows seen coming and going, ghosts of the dead monks, whose tombs had been desecrated, but whose bodies still rested in the crypt below the altar, awaiting the great judgment day.

In the country around it was whispered that at midnight there were shadows seen coming and going, ghosts of the dead monks, whose tombs had been desecrated, but whose bodies still rested in the crypt below the altar, awaiting the great judgment day.

Reginald and Ann Newbolt had been little more than children when they came to the Abbey, and the very atmosphere of the place seemed to seize upon their imaginations. They felt kindly towards the dead monks and towards the De Lisles, whose 

 Prev. P 24/322 next