For Egwina suddenly felt spent and faint. A sense of forlornness that she was unable to control was taking possession of her.
“I feel no desire for food, holy father,” she said weakly.
“Natheless thou must eat, daughter. Keep up thy heart. Be not troubled or concerned for thyself. Thou art in God’s hands. Whatever he sends is for the best. Eat these.”
He took from the pouch which he carried under his chasuble some barley cakes, and Egwina ate of them obediently. When she had finished they took up their staffs, and declared themselves ready to take her to the priory. Thus did they journey.
It was late in the day when the priests joyously announced to the maiden that there was but little further to go.
“Then shalt thou find peace and rest for thy weariness, child,” said they comfortingly to her.
But as they drew near to the building, their ears were greeted with cries and screams of terror.
“The Northmen!” ejaculated the priests with pale faces. “Stay thou here, daughter, while we see if aught can be done.”
They went forward, leaving Egwina in the copse. Time passed. The priests did not return, and finally, unable to endure the suspense longer, the girl crept forward.
In an open glade of the forest stood the priory. Egwina’s terror-stricken eyes saw naught but the forms of the slaughtered nuns whose bodies lay everywhere in the courtyard, and even beyond it. In front of the gates were the corpses of her two late companions—the priests.