m the great Moot at Brent, and that was good
hearing for me, for though he must return next day, I should be far by
that time.

While we talked, the collier and two or three men came to us, telling
excitedly how that the kiln was raked out, and that the cauldron was
empty--doubtless the work of the fiend.

"Saw you aught of any fiend, good sir?" asked the priest of me.

Now I remembered the roe deer in time, and answered, "I saw nought worse
than myself"--but I think that, had the collier known my thoughts, he
would have fled me as he fled that he took me for. But that he was sore
terrified I have no doubt, for it seemed that he neither recognized me,
nor remembered what he was doing at the kiln when I came. Maybe, as
often happens, he had told some wild story to so many that he believed
it himself.

"Then, my sons," said the hermit, "the fiend finding Dudda no prey of
his, departed straightway, and he need fear no more."

However, they would have him sprinkle all the place with holy water,
repeating the proper prayers the while, which he did willingly, knowing
the fears of his people, and gladly trying to put them to rest.

Then the collier begged one after another to bide with him that night,
but all refused, having other things to be done which they said might
not he foregone. It was plain that they dared not stay; but this seemed
to be my chance.

The men had many times looked hard at me, but as I was speaking with the
priest, dared not question me as they would. So having seen this, I said:

"I am a stranger from beyond the Mendips, and lost my way last night
coming back from Brent. Glad should I be of lodging here tonight, and
guidance on the morrow, for it is over late for me to be on my way now."

That pleased the collier well enough, and he said he would take me in,
and guide me where I would go next day. The other men wanted to ask me
news of the Moot, but I put them off, saying that I had not sat thereon,
but had passed there on my way from Sherborne. So they were content, and
asking the hermit for his blessing, they went their way.

Then the old priest took off the vestments which were over his brown
hermit garb, and giving them to the youths who had acted as his acolytes
bade them depart also, having given them some directions, and so we
three, the hermit, collier, and myself, were left alone by the hut.

The hermit bade the collier leave us, and he, evidently holding the old
man in high venerat