"
So, while the world outside raged, and fought, and conquered, and
plundered, they within the holy isle kept up some sort of order, and
justice, and usefulness, and love to God and man. And about the yards,
among the feet of the monks, hopped the sacred ravens, descendants of
those who brought back the gloves at St. Guthlac's bidding; and overhead,
under all the eaves, built the sacred swallows, the descendants of those
who sat and sang upon St. Guthlac's shoulders; and when men marvelled
thereat, he, the holy man, replied: "Know that they who live the holy life
draw nearer to the birds of the air, even as they do to the angels in
heaven."
And Lady Godiva called for old Abbot Ulfketyl, the good and brave, and
fell upon his neck, and told him all her tale; and Ulfketyl wept upon her
neck, for they were old and faithful friends.
And they passed into the dark, cool church, where in the crypt under the
high altar lay the thumb of St. Bartholomew, which old Abbot Turketul used
to carry about, that he might cross himself with it in times of danger,
tempest, and lightning; and some of the hair of St. Mary, Queen of Heaven,
in a box of gold; and a bone of St. Leodegar of Aquitaine; and some few
remains, too, of the holy bodies of St. Guthlac; and of St. Bettelm, his
servant; and St.
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