e bad. Still it served us; and glad
enough we were of it, for the road was rough, and heavy with the
rain of the day. It pained me to see the thing jolting and lurching
as it went, knowing how little it befitted that which it was
honoured in bearing.

Presently out of the roadside rose up a man, and joined us.

"Good sirs," he said, "I am a blind man, and would fain be led to
Fernlea. May I go with you so far as the road you take lies in that
direction?"

"Truly, my son," said the eldest priest. "But you are afoot late."

"'Tis a priest speaks to me, as I hear," said the man, doffing his
cap in the direction of the voice and laughing gently. "Is it so
late, father? Well, I have thought so, for there seem to be few men
about. Yet I slept alone in a shed last night, and know not for how
long. I think I have also slept some of today, for I am out of
count of the hours. There is neither dark nor light for me."

He fell back and walked after the cart, saying no more. Now and
then I heard his stick tapping the stones of the way, and once one
of our men helped him in a rough place, and he thanked him.

Now we came to a terribly bad place in the road, and there the cart
seemed like to break down; and it was the worse for us that a cloud
came over the moon at the time, and it was very dark. Whereby the
blind man was of much help in the care for the cart, until the moon
shone out again suddenly, when he was left behind us for a few
minutes. Then we heard him calling.

"Two of you help the poor soul," said the reeve, "else he will
hardly get across that slough. He has fallen, I think."

He named two of his own men, and they went back. After a while the
blind man's voice came again, and he seemed to be shouting
joyfully. I thought it was by reason of the help that came to him.

"Thane," said the eldest priest to me just at this time, "I pray
you ride on and tell the archbishop that you have indeed found what
we sought. It is but right that all should be ready against the
time we get back. We are not more than a mile away from the gates,
and you will have time. This is slow travelling, perforce."

Erling and I rode on with the reeve, therefore, and I thought no
more of the blind man, as one may suppose, until I heard what had
happened.

When the two men went back to his help, he sat again by the side of
the road, hiding his face in his hands on his knees. And he was
trembling.

"Friends," he said, "now I know why you