others were having their midday _siesta_, and he was careful
not to be of the least trouble. Indeed, for three weeks he put off the
bishop, as he did at Witham, and his insignia all but the ring, and
became a humble monk once more. The clergy and the laity hurried to see
him from the district, and the poor jostled to behold their father; and
each one had dear and gracious words, and many found his hand second his
generous tongue. Some days he spent at the lower house. Here, too, he
compounded an old and bitter feud between the bishop and the Count of
Geneva whereby the one was exiled and the other excommunicate.

Near the end of his stay he made a public present to the House, a silver
casket of relics, which he used to carry in his hand in procession at
dedications. These were only a part of his collection, for he had a ring
of gold and jewels, four fingers broad, with hollow spaces for relics.
At his ardent desire and special entreaty the monks of Fleury once gave
him a tooth from the jaws of St. Benedict, the first founder and, as it
were, grandfather of his and other Orders. This came with a good strip
of shroud to boot, and the goldsmith appeared, tools and all, warned by
a dream, from Banbury to Dorchester to enshrine the precious ivory. The
shred of shroud was liberally divided up among abbots and religious men,
but the tooth, after copious kissing, was sealed up in the ring. At
Fechamp once (that home of relics!) they kept a bone of St. Mary
Magdalen, as was rashly asserted, sewed up in silks and linen. He begged
to see it, but none dared show it: but he was not to be denied. Whipping
up a penknife from his notary, he had off the covers pretty quickly, and
gazed at and kissed it reverently. Then he tried to break off a bit with
his fingers, but not a process would come away. He then tried to nibble
a snippet, but in vain. Finally, he put the holy bone to his strong back
teeth and gave a hearty scrunch. Two tit-bits came off, and he handed
them to the trembling Adam, saying, "Excellent man, keep these for us."
The abbots and monks were first struck dumb, then quaked, and then
boiled with indignation and wrath. "Oh! oh! Abominable!" they yelled.
"We thought the bishop wanted to worship these sacred and holy things,
and lo! he has, with doggish ritual, put them to his teeth for
mutilation." While they were raging he quieted them with words which may
give us the key to such otherwise indecent behaviour. Suppose they ha