not get out again to see the prisoned geese.
But when she went to her cell for the morning rest after her work was
done, she sat down by the window and looked out smilingly, thinking to
see her friend Grayking and the others taking their bath in the meadow.
But there were no geese to be seen! Werburgh's face grew grave. And even
as she sat there wondering what had happened, she heard a prodigious
honking overhead, and a flock of geese came straggling down, not in the
usual trim V, but all unevenly and without a leader. Grayking was gone!

They fluttered about crying and asking advice of one another, till they
heard Saint Werburgh's voice calling them anxiously. Then with a cry of
joy they flew straight up to her window and began talking all together,
trying to tell her what had happened.

"Grayking is gone!" they said. "Grayking is stolen by the wicked
Steward. Grayking was taken away when we were set free, and we shall
never see him again. What shall we do, dear lady, without our leader?"

Saint Werburgh was horrified to think that her dear Grayking might be in
danger. Oh, how that wicked Steward had deceived her! She began to feel
angry. Then she turned to the birds: "Dear geese," she said earnestly,
"you have promised me never to steal again, have you not?" and they all
honked "Yes!" "Then I will go and question the Steward," she continued,
"and if he is guilty I will punish him and make him bring Grayking back
to you."

The geese flew away feeling somewhat comforted, and Saint Werburgh sent
speedily for Master Hugh. He came, looking much surprised, for he could
not imagine what she wanted of him. "Where is the gray goose with the
black ring about his neck?" began Saint Werburgh without any preface,
looking at him keenly. He stammered and grew confused. "I--I don't know,
Lady Abbess," he faltered. He had not guessed that she cared especially
about the geese.

"Nay, you know well," said Saint Werburgh, "for I bade you feed them and
set them free this morning. But one is gone."

"A fox must have stolen it," said he guiltily.

"Ay, a fox with black hair and a red, fat face," quoth Saint Werburgh
sternly. "Do not tell me lies. You have taken him, Master Hugh. I can
read it in your heart." Then he grew weak and confessed.

"Ay, I have taken the great gray goose," he said faintly. "Was it so
very wrong?"

"He was a friend of mine and I love him dearly," said Saint Werburgh. At
these words the Steward turned very