rough the floor, then
another; the door had caught outside. Even in that moment he beheld his
men, his faithful followers, madly seeking death from the swords of the
foe; they had lowered the drawbridge, and dashed out without a leader.

"Would I were with them!" he cried. "Oh, to die like this!"

"Behold," cried a voice without, "he hath digged and graven a pit, and
is fallen himself into the destruction he made for others."

It was Father Swithin, who had observed the face at the window, and who
raised the cry which now drew all the enemy to gaze upon him, for they
had no longer a foe to destroy.

The flames now filled the room, but still he clung to the window, and
thus protracted his torments; his foes, even the stern monk, could but
pity him now, so marred and blackened was his visage, so agonised his
lineaments; like, as they said, the rude pictures of the lost, where the
last judgment was painted on the walls of the churches. Yet he uttered
no cry, he had resolved to die bravely; all was lost now. Another
moment, and those who watched saw the huge beams which supported the
building bend and quiver; then the whole framework collapsed, and with a
sound like thunder the roof tumbled in, and the unhappy Ragnar was
buried in the ruin; while the flames from his funeral pyre rose to the
very heavens, and the smoke blotted the stars from view.

"Even so," said the monk, solemnly, "let Thine enemies perish, O Lord,
but let them that love Thee be as the sun, when he goeth forth in his
might."

But those were not wanting who could not sympathise with the stern
sentiment, remembering better and gentler lessons from the lips of the
great Teacher and Master of souls.

"He has passed into the Hands of his God, there let us leave him," said
Father Cuthbert, who had just arrived at the moment. "It is not for us
to judge a soul which has passed to the judgment seat, and is beyond the
sentence of men."

Meanwhile, they had borne Elfric first to the priory, for they judged it
not well that he should yet be brought to his mother; they feared the
sudden shock. Many of the good monks had studied medicine, for they were
in fact the healers both of soul and body throughout the district, and
they attended him with assiduous care. They put him to bed, they gave
him cordials which soon produced quiet sleep, and watched by him for
many hours.

It was not till the day had far advanced that he awoke, greatly
refreshed, and saw Fathe