Alas, poor monks, and alas for the country which lost the most glorious of her architectural riches, the most august of her fanes, through the greed of one generation!
"Have any other travellers sought shelter here during the night?"
"Five—a lady and four knights."
"Where be they?"
"The lady is lodged in a house without the eastern gate; the others are in the guest-house, where thou mayst join them."
Have my readers ever seen the outer quadrangle of Magdalene College? It is not unlike the square of buildings in which the Baron and his followers now stood. On three sides the monastic buildings, with cloisters looking upon a green sward, wherein a frozen fountain was surmounted by a cross; on the other, the noble church, of which almost all trace is lost.
In the hospitium or guest-house Brian found Sir Ingelric of Huntercombe, with Alain and the other attendants upon the lady's flight. They met with joy, and seated before a bright fire which burned upon the hearth, learned the story of each other's adventures on that gruesome night, which, however, had ended well. Osric had gone in charge of the horses to some stables outside the gates, which opened upon the market-place, but he now returned, and Alain greeted him warmly.
Soon the déjeûner or breakfast was served, of which the chief feature was good warm soup, very acceptable after the night they had passed through. Scarcely was it over when the bells rang for the High Mass of St. Thomas's Day.
"Yes, we must all go," said Brian, "out of compliment to our hosts, if for no better reason."
They entered the church, of which the nave and transepts were open to the general public, while the choir, as large as that of a cathedral church, was reserved for the monks alone. The service was grand and solemn: it began with a procession, during which holy water was sprinkled over the congregation, while the monks sang—