be removed, unwilling to stain
the holy precincts of Abingdon with a deed of blood, and confiding
fully in Robert d'Oyly, the governor of his new castle.

The passage up the river had occupied two full hours, under the
care of trusty and able rowers; for the stream was swift in those
days, before locks checked its course, as we have stated elsewhere.

Under the woods of Newenham, past the old Anglo-Saxon churches of
Sandford and Iffley, up the right-hand channel of the stream just
below the city, and so to the landing place beneath the old tower
{xxv}.

William had given orders to treat our Wilfred with all possible
consideration, and to allow him every indulgence, which did not
militate against his safe keeping, for he admired, even while he
felt it necessary to slay. So he was not thrust into a dungeon, but
confined in an upper chamber, where a grated window, at a great
height, afforded him a fair view of that world he was about to
leave for ever.

"Ah! if I were but in those woods," sighed the prisoner to himself,
"I would give these Normans some trouble to catch me again; but the
poor bird can only beat himself against the cruel bars of his
cage."

He counted the hours. It was the evening of his condemnation; two
whole days, followed by a feverish night, and then when that next
sun arose--

Strange thoughts began to arise--what sort of axe would they
use?--who would be there?--would they bind his eyes?--would he have
to kneel on the stones?--what kind of block would they use?

Little trifling details like these forced themselves upon him, even
as an artist represents each humble detail in a finished picture.

Did he repent that he had refused life and Aescendune? No, he hated
the Normans with too profound a hatred.

Was he prepared to die? We are sorry to record that he shook off
every thought of the future. God had delivered the English into the
hands of the Normans--his father and mother had been good religious
people, and what had they got by it? If there was a God, why were
such cruelties allowed to exist unavenged? He and His saints must
be asleep. Such were the wicked thoughts which arose, as we grieve
to record, in poor Wilfred's mind.

But now heavy steps were heard ascending the stairs, and soon
Lanfranc, conducted by the Norman governor, entered the cell.

Against him Wilfred could not, in reason, feel the enmity he bore
to all others of Norman race; it was owing to his exertions, and to
th