to see that no foe pursued; but, as
we afterwards learned, they had other things to think of.

The road which ran across the river at this spot continued southward
into Wessex, and, so far as we could learn, was free from danger, so I
determined to send my brethren to Abingdon by easy stages along its
course, while I turned back with Father Adhelm, to share the
misfortunes of my kindred and lay brethren in the woods. So we
embraced each other and parted; and we two watched, with loving
hearts, until the glades of the forest hid our brethren, dear to us in
the Lord, from our sight, dimmed as were our eyes with tears. Then we
plucked up our courage, and turned our thoughts to those others, dear
and near to us, who had taken to the woods, where it was again our
duty to seek them.

Wiglaf rowed us back in a light skiff up the stream, not without much
protest, for he feared the Danes would surely catch us, and at every
bend of the stream he crept round, as if he expected to see a fleet of
boats sweep towards us, while he kept in the middle, as if dreading an
arrow from every bush. At length we reached the immediate
neighbourhood, over which the smoke still hung like a black pall. Here
Father Adhelm and I landed, and, giving Wiglaf our blessing, bade him
depart in peace, which the good soul flatly refused to do until
assured of our safety.

So, hiding the boat behind some bushes, we crept forward together,
till, getting through the underwood, we came to the edge of the
covert.

Before us lay the fated village, one mass of deformed and blackened
ruins, from which the dark smoke ceaselessly arose, and made the air
painful to breathe.

But there was no sign of life; no living thing seemed to breathe
there; the place seemed abandoned for ever. It was a dull day, dull as
the gloom which was upon our spirits; the very heavens seemed to have
put on funeral attire, and the chilly wind which swept over the scene
seemed quite at home.

We emerged cautiously from our cover, and soon stood where, a few days
before, the priory had risen, beautiful before God; it was but a huge
pile of blackened timber and stone; and even more conspicuous above
all other ruins, by the black smoke it still sent forth, was that
which had been the hall.

While we stood and pondered, Wiglaf suddenly started.

"I hear the tramp of men," he said.

Then I listened, and distinctly heard the footfall of men and horses.
We paused; it drew nearer. We wer