Five men came with me to the ford.  When we were at the other side there were but four.  One had gone back, and I did not blame him.  Leof sat in the little porch, and so we six went into the church together.  The bishop sat where I had left him, but he raised his head when we came up the aisle.

“Nay, my sons,” he said, “you must fly.  Maybe these men will respect an old man like myself and lonely.”

Then I said: 

“Father, we would have you say mass for us ere the light comes again.”

Now it wanted about an hour to midnight.

“Is there yet time?” he said.

Then I answered that I thought we might wait in peace for so long, and he, knowing nothing of the nearness of the Danes, consented.  So we bided there in the aisle benches to wait till midnight was past, and soon one or two of the men slept quietly.

Now, when it may have been almost midnight, and the time for mass would soon be come, the bishop, who had been so still that I thought he slept, lifted his head and looked towards the altar.  And at the same time my dog whined a little beside me.

Then Humbert the Bishop rose up and held out both his hands as to one whom he would greet, and spoke softly.

“Aye, Eadmund, I am coming.  Soon shall I be with you.”

So he stood for a little while very still, and then went to his place again.

Then Leof, who sat next to me, said, whispering: 

“Saw you aught, master?”

“I saw nothing, but surely the bishop had a vision.”

“I myself saw Eadmund the king stand before the bishop, and he had a wondrous crown on his head,” said Leof, speaking as though of somewhat not terrible, but good to think on.

“I also saw him,” said the old steward from behind me.  “I saw him plainly as in life, and I thought he smiled on us.”

But I had had no such sight, and it grieved me.  Moreover, two of the other three men whispered, and I thought one of them told of the like vision.  And I think, too, that the dog saw it, as the innocent beasts will see things beyond our ken.

Soon the bishop judged that the time was come for mass, and he called softly to me, bidding me serve, for I had often done so for him in the old days when I was a boy and he was at Reedham, and I knew well what to do.

Then was said a most solemn mass with that one aged priest, and us few men present.  And all was very quiet round us, for no wind stirred the trees on the old rampart.

The bishop’s voice ceased with the benediction, and the hush deepened; but suddenly Leof and I looked in each other’s faces.  We had heard a shout from no great distance, and the blood rushed wildly through us.

Now the bishop rose from his knees, and I took the holy vessels, as he gave them to me, putting them into their oaken chest in its niche.  And when that was done, he said: 

“Now I will not bid you fly, my sons, for I think that somewhat has bidden you bide with me.  And I have seen the king, so that I know the time is short.  Take therefore the holy vessels and drown them in the deep pool of the stream.  I have used them for the last time, but I would not have them profaned by the heathen in their feasting.”