"It was founded and enriched by Offa, thane of that domain, in the year of grace 940, and burnt in the second year of our misery, now three years agone. In its place stood for a short time the priory of St. Denys."
"Thou mayest well say 'stood,'" interrupted Geoffrey, "for I hear that it has also been destroyed by fire."
"By fire also?" said the astonished Lanfranc.
"It is a sad and tragical story," replied Geoffrey, "and it would weary you and sadden me to relate it now. Bloodshed and all the horrors of midnight rapine and warfare are mingled in it, and there is a deep mystery yet unsolved. Tell me, my brother, wert thou an inmate of St. Wilfred's priory when it was so mysteriously destroyed?"
"I was."
"And how didst thou escape?"
"Our prior, the sainted Elphege, despatched me to some of our poor flock, who had taken refuge in the woods, that I might commit one deeply loved to their care."
"His name?"
"Wilfred of Aescendune. It is on his behalf that I have sought his grace the new archbishop, led by his reputation for charity and justice, but hardly expecting to meet any one here who knew the story of our misfortunes and wrongs."
"Thou wilt wonder less, perhaps, if thou lookest at me a little more closely. Dost thou not remember Geoffrey, Bishop of Coutances, who married Winifred of Aescendune to Hugo de Malville?"