"I am sick," said the English heir; "take away these accursed
things; burn what will burn, and throw the rest in the river;
should our grandchildren find them, they may well ask what they
were made for."
Meanwhile the monks at the new priory were calmly awaiting their
fate with a courage worthy of a better cause. They heard the joyful
shouts of the English as they took possession of the castle,
without flinching; they rang their bells loudly and defiantly, for
the compline service at the third hour of the night (9 P.M.) This
last act of audacity was too much; the natives surrounded the new
priory, beat at its doors, rang the bell at the gate, blew their
horns, and made a noise which baffles description, while they
proceeded to batter down the gates.
But not until the service was concluded, when the gate only hung by
one hinge, did the prior appear.
"Who are ye," he cried, "who molest the house of God, and those who
serve Him within?"
"A pious fox"--"a holy fox"--"smoke them out"--"set the place on
fire"--"let them taste the fate which befell better men on this
spot!"
"In whose name," said the undismayed prior, "do ye summon me?"
"In the name of the descendant of him who first founded this
priory--of Wilfred, thane of Aescendune.
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