'By our Lady,' he cried, 'I must see to this; although my poor feet have no skin below them. I will teach this heathen miscreant how to scoff at Glastonbury.'

Thereupon he turned his course, and ploughed along through the moors and bogs, towards the eight-sided palace. The wizard sat on his chair of comfort, and with the rankest contempt observed the holy man ploughing towards him. 'He has something good in his wallet, I trow,' said the black thief to himself; 'these fellows get always the pick of the wine, and the best of a woman's money.' Then he cried, 'Come in, come in, good sir,' as he always did to every one.

'Bad sir, I will not come in,' said the pilgrim; 'neither shall you come out again. Here are the bones of all you have slain; and here shall your own bones be.'

'Hurry me not,' cried the sorcerer; 'that is a thing to think about. How many miles hast thou travelled this day?'

But the pilgrim was too wide awake, for if he had spoken of any number, bearing no cross upon it, the necromancer would have had him, like a ball at bando-play. Therefore he answered, as truly as need be, 'By the grace of our Lady, nine.'

Now nine is the crossest of all cross numbers, and full to the lip of all crochets. So the wizard staggered back, and thought, and inquired again with bravery, 'Where can you find a man and wife, one going up-hill and one going down, and not a word spoken between them?'

'In a cucumber plant,' said the modest saint; blushing even to think of it; and the wizard knew he was done for.

'You have tried me with ungodly questions,' continued the honest pilgrim, with one hand still over his eyes, as he thought of the feminine cucumber; 'and now I will ask you a pure one. To whom of mankind have you ever done good, since God saw fit to make you?'

The wizard thought, but could quote no one; and he looked at the saint, and the saint at him, and both their hearts were trembling. 'Can you mention only one?' asked the saint, pointing a piece of the true cross at him, hoping he might cling to it; 'even a little child will do; try to think of some one.'

The earth was rocking beneath their feet, and the palace windows darkened on them, with a tint of blood, for now the saint was come inside, hoping to save the wizard.