it, that the Mercians scour
all the country round about, that all the roads are now occupied and
guarded, so that they can only hope to defend this place until they can
make terms with the King of Mercia, as they call Edgar, who is likely to
be acknowledged by all north of the Thames. The curse of the Church is,
they say, upon Edwy."

"Father Cuthbert is still here, is he not?--what does he advise? where
shall we go?"

"He says we can have the old house in which he, and the mass-thanes [xxix]
before him, lived while as yet the priory was incomplete
or unbuilt. It is very comfortable, and close to the church."

"But to take him so soon from his home!"

"They will place him in God's house, before the altar; there could not
be a better place where they or we could wish his dear remains to await
the last rites upon earth."

At that moment Father Cuthbert entered the room unannounced.

"Pardon me, my revered lady," he began; "but I grieve to say that your
safety demands instant action, and must excuse my intrusion; your life
and liberty are no longer safe here."

"Life and liberty?"

"There is some foul plot to detain you all here, on pretence your safety
requires it. I have been this morning to Redwald, and he refuses
permission for any one to leave the place, asserting that thus only can
he assure your safety. Now, it is plain that if the place comes to be
besieged you would be far safer in the priory or the old priests' house.
Our own countrymen would not injure us."

"He will not detain us by force?"

"I would not trust to that; but we must meet guile by guile. I have
pretended to be content on your behalf and he is just going to leave the
hall, with the greater part of his followers, to collect provisions and
cattle. I have told him that the Grange farm is well stocked; he has
caught the bait, and is going to superintend the work of spoliation in
person: far better, in the present need, that he should rob the estate
than that a hair of your head or of those of your children should perish."

"But why do you suspect him of evil?"

"I cannot tell you now. I have overheard dark, dark speeches. So soon as
he has gone, Alfred and I must summon all your own people who are in the
hall. We will then bring the body forth, and follow it ourselves; as we
shall outnumber those left behind I do not imagine they will dare, in
his absence, to interfere with our progress."

"I will go at once," said Alfred, "and summon