able to do so. The Welsh were then gaining
the day. Still, even his foes respected his valour, and gave your
forefather a fair and honourable burial."

Leaving the battlefield, they entered the Saxon town, which was defended
on one side by the Cherwell, on the other by a mound and palisade, with
an outer ditch supplied by the river. Here they found hospitable
entertainment, and left on the morrow for the town of Kirtlington.

They left Beranbyrig early, and reached the village of Sutthun (King's
Sutton), where they perceived a great multitude of people collected
around a well at the outskirts of the village.

"What are these people doing?" asked Elfric.

"Oh, do you not know?" replied Anlaf. "This is St. Rumbald's well," and
he crossed himself piously.

"Who was St. Rumbald?" asked Elfric innocently.

"Oh, he was son of the king of Northumbria, and of his queen, the
daughter of the old king Penda of Mercia, and the strange thing is that
he is a saint although he only lived three days."

"How could that be?"

"Why it was a miracle, you see. On the day after his birth he was taken
to Braceleam (Brackley), where he was baptized, and after his baptism he
actually preached an eloquent sermon to the people. They brought him
back to Sutthun next day, where he died, having first blessed this well,
so that many precious gifts of healing are shown thereat. His relics
were removed first to Braceleam, then to Buccingaham (Buckingham), where
his shrine is venerated by the faithful. But come, you must drink of the
holy water."

So they approached the spot, and, after much labour to get at the well,
drank of the water, which had a brackish taste, and proceeded on their
journey southward through Kirtlington, then a considerable city,
although now a small village. It was their intention to pass by the
cathedral city of Dorchester, where Wulfstan was then bishop, where they
arrived on the second night of their journey.

It was the largest city Elfric had as yet seen, possessing several
churches, of which only one now remains. The hand of the ruthless Danes
had not yet been laid heavily upon it, and the magnificence of the
sacred fanes, built by cunning architects from abroad, amazed the
Mercian boy.

There was the tomb of the great Birinus, the apostle of Mercia, who had
founded the see in the year 630 A.D., and to whose shrine multitudes of
pilgrims flocked each year. But the remains of Roman greatness most
astonished Elfr