ringed deep in rushes, came in sight;
now an old manorial farm held up its lichened chimneys above a row of
pollarded elms. I came at last, by lanes and byways, to a silent
village that seemed entirely deserted. The men, I suppose, were all
working in the fields; the cottage doors stood open; near the little
common rose an old high-shouldered church, much overgrown with ivy. The
sun lay pleasantly upon its leaded roof, and among the grass-grown
graves. I left my bicycle by the porch, and at first could not find an
entrance; but at last I discovered that a low, priest's door that led
into the chancel, was open. The church had an ancient and holy smell.
It was very cool in there out of the sun. I turned into the nave, and
wandered about for a few moments, noting the timbered roof, the remains
of old frescoes on the walls; the tomb of a knight who lay still and
stiff, his head resting on his hand. I read an epitaph or two, with the
faint cry of love and grief echoing through the stilted phraseology of
the tomb, and then I went back to the altar.

On a broad slab of slate, immediately below the altar steps, lay
something dark; I bent down to look at it, and then realised, with a
curious sense of horror, that it was a little pool of blood; beside it
lay two large jagged stones, also stained with blood, which had dried
into a viscous paste upon them. It seemed as if the stoning of some
martyr had taken place, and that, the first horrible violence done, the
deed had been transferred to the open air. What made it still stranger
to me was that in the east window was a rude representation of the
stoning of Stephen; and I have since discovered that the church is
dedicated to him.

I cannot give you the smallest hint of explanation. Indeed, pondering
over it, I cannot conceive of any circumstances which can in any way
account for what I saw. I wandered out into the churchyard--for the
sight gave me a curious chill of horror--and I could see nothing that
could further enlighten me. A few yards beyond stood the rectory,
embowered in thickets. It seemed to be deserted; the windows were dark
and undraped; no smoke went up from the chimneys. It suddenly appeared
to me that I must be the victim of some strange hallucination, So I
stepped again within the church to see if my senses had played me
false. But no! there were the stones, and the blood beside them.

The sun began to decline to his setting; the shadows lengthened and
darkened