suspects to belong to dreamland, and turns again to his pillow.

Imagine the surprise with which such men (including Etienne,
Pierre, and the other late companions of the unhappy Wilfred)
learned that the monastery had caught fire accidentally in the
night, and that so sudden had been the conflagration that none had
escaped.

None! No; so far as men could discover. The priory built by Offa of
Aescendune was a heap of smoking embers, and monks were there none,
neither had any heard aught of the English heir of Aescendune.

The poor English who yet remained in the village were weeping over
their lost friends, and the very Norman men-at-arms were hushed in
the presence of their sorrow.

The shades of evening fell upon the desolate ruins, but nought had
occurred to alleviate the calamity: all seemed to have perished
unaided in the suddenness of their destruction--a thing
improbable--unheard of--yet so it was.

All seemed over--the English brethren and their guest blotted out
from the earth. And none looked more contented than Baron Hugo.



CHAPTER VIII. VAE VICTIS.


If the Conqueror had really intended to govern the English justly,