ily. I fear I spoke to many in vain.

I am sure they are bent on immediate mischief, and that this notice of
the sheriff has much to do with it. He wants to keep good people at
home to have all the field to himself. I see him--the black
bellwether.

After mass I mingled with the dispersing congregation. The weather was
very gloomy--the faces of the congregation yet more so. All seemed to
apprehend coming evil. Instead of returning cheerfully home they stood
together in groups, talking in low tones, as if they feared to speak
their thoughts aloud.

Most of them evidently were men of peace, but not all, as I have
already hinted; and, as I drew near a group standing behind the great
yew tree, I heard one of these latter discoursing to his fellows.

"Heard you the prior's sermon?" said Siric, for that was the fellow,
Siric of the Wold; "a fine homily he gave us on St. Brice--that man
of peace."

"It was easy for him to be a man of peace," returned another; "he
hadn't got Danes for his neighbours."

"Holy Job himself would have turned cutthroat if he had."

"Then they have been insulting, robbing, and murdering all over the
country."

Just then I interrupted them, for I could no longer hear the
blasphemy.

"How now, Siric," said I; "hast thou come to Aescendune to revile the
saints?"

"Nay, Father," said he, with a mocking smile; "I was only rejoicing
that they were not exposed to such trials as we. Job's Chaldeans were
gentlefolk in comparison with our Danes."

"Thou blasphemest; and what didst thou say of the blessed St. Brice?"

"Only that I wished he were living now to tame the cutthroats who live
in our midst, and who murder and rob daily, just in mere sport, or to
keep their hands in."

"What new outrages have occurred?" I asked.

"A party of the heathen carried off the cattle from my farm down the
water early this morning, and slew the herdsman."

"Dost thou know who the fellows were?"

"All too well; they were Anlaf's men."

I hardly knew what to answer, the outrage was so recent, and the
excitement of the speaker so pardonable, as I could but feel.

Well, at this moment my brother Elfwyn came out of the church, where
he had lingered to pray, as he generally does, at his brother's tomb,
and, noticing us, came and joined the group. He seemed much concerned
when he heard the details.

"Siric," he said, with his usual kind way of speaking, "do not
distress yourself unduly; you know I am rich in