a wondrous strange occurrence was the talk of Rome.

The year wherein Waldo died was that seventh year in which the shrine
of St. Dorothea is opened in her church beyond Tiber; and the day on
which it is opened fell a little while before the death of Waldo.

Behold, then, when on the vigil of that feast the priests unlocked the
shrine, the place where aforetime the holy body of the martyr had lain
was empty. Great was the dismay, loud the lamentation, grievous the
suspicion. The custodians of the church and the shrine were seized and
cast into prison, where they lay till the day of their trial. On the
morning of that day the church of St. Dorothea was filled with a divine
fragrance, which seemed to transpire from the empty shrine as from a
celestial flower. Wherefore once again the shrine was opened, and
there, even such as they had been seen by many of the faithful seven
years before, lay the relics of the Saint in their old resting-place.

Now to all poor souls God grant a no less happy end of days than this
which He vouchsafed to the poor leper-singer Waldo of the Priory of
Three Fountains.

The Seven Years of Seeking

Here begins the chapter of the Seven Years of Seeking.

For, trying greatly to win sight of that blessed isle, the Earthly
Paradise, the monk Serapion and his eleven companions hoisted sail; and
for seven years they continued in that seeking, wandering with little
respite under cloud and star, in all the ways of the sea of ocean which
goeth round the world.

[Now this chapter was read of evenings in the refectory at supper, in
the winter of the Great Snow. While the drifts without lay fathom-deep
in sheltered places, and the snow was settling on the weather-side of
things in long slopes like white pent-houses, the community listened
with rapt attention, picturing to themselves the slanting ship, and the
red sail of skins with its yellow cross in the midst, and the
marvellous vision of vast waters, and the strange islands. Then
suddenly the Prior would strike the table, and according to the custom
the reader would close his book with the words, "Tu autem, Domine--But
do Thou, O Lord, have mercy upon us!" and the monks would rise, with
interest still keen in the wanderings of the Sea-farers.

Seeing that it would be of little profit to break up the reading as the
Prior was wont to break it up, I will give the story here without pause
or hindrance, as though it had all been read i