“Then, my sons,” said the hermit, “the fiend finding Dudda no prey of his, departed straightway, and he need fear no more.”

However, they would have him sprinkle all the place with holy water, repeating the proper prayers the while, which he did willingly, knowing the fears of his people, and gladly trying to put them to rest.

Then the collier begged one after another to bide with him that night, but all refused, having other things to be done which they said might not he foregone.  It was plain that they dared not stay; but this seemed to be my chance.

The men had many times looked hard at me, but as I was speaking with the priest, dared not question me as they would.  So having seen this, I said: 

“I am a stranger from beyond the Mendips, and lost my way last night coming back from Brent.  Glad should I be of lodging here tonight, and guidance on the morrow, for it is over late for me to be on my way now.”

That pleased the collier well enough, and he said he would take me in, and guide me where I would go next day.  The other men wanted to ask me news of the Moot, but I put them off, saying that I had not sat thereon, but had passed there on my way from Sherborne.  So they were content, and asking the hermit for his blessing, they went their way.

Then the old priest took off the vestments which were over his brown hermit garb, and giving them to the youths who had acted as his acolytes bade them depart also, having given them some directions, and so we three, the hermit, collier, and myself, were left alone by the hut.

The hermit bade the collier leave us, and he, evidently holding the old man in high veneration, bowed awkwardly, and went to fill and relight his kiln fires.

And then the old priest spoke to me.

“Sir, I was brought here, as you see, to drive away an evil spirit, which this poor thrall said had appeared to him last night, and from which he fled.  Now all men know that these fens are haunted by fiends, even as holy Guthlac found in the land of the Gyrwa’s, [v] being sorely troubled by them.  But I have seen none, though I dwell in this fen much as he dwelt, though none so worthy, or maybe worth troubling as he.  Know you what he saw? for I seem to see that your coming has to do with this—­” and the old man smiled a little.

Then I told him how I had come unexpectedly into the firelight, and that the man had fled, adding that I was nigh worn out, and so, finding a resting place, slept without heeding him; and then how little Turkil had called me “Grendel”, bidding me “spit fire for him to see”.

At that the old man laughed a hearty laugh, looking sidewise to see that Dudda was at work and unheeding.

“Verily,” he said, “it is as I deemed, but with more reason for the collier to fly than I had thought—­for truly mail-clad men are never seen here, and thy face, my son, is of the grimmest, for all you are so young.  I marvel Turkil feared you not—­but children see below the outward mask of a man’s face.”