the preaching of the Passion by a poor simple monk on Good Friday, he
retired to his own little room, where he wept as if his heart would
break. Had Dunstan been then in town, the whole story would have been
told, and much misery saved, for Elfric felt he could trust him if he
could trust anybody; but unhappily Dunstan was, as we have seen, keeping
Passiontide at his abbey.

Still, Elfric felt he must tell all, and submit to the advice and
penance which might be imposed; and as he sat weeping over his sin that
Good Friday night, with the thought that he might find pardon and peace
through the Great Sacrifice so touchingly pleaded that day, he felt that
the first step to amendment must lie in a full and frank confession of
all; he knew he should grievously offend Edwy, and that he should lose
the favour of his future king, but he could not help it.

"Why, oh why did I leave Aescendune, dear Aescendune?--fool that I was
--I will go back."

And a sweet desire of home and kindred rose up before him--of his
father's loving welcome, his fond mother's chaste kiss, and of the dear
old woods and waters--the hallowed associations of his home life. He
rose up to seek Father Benedict, determined to enter upon the path of
peace at any cost, when Edwy entered.

He did not see in the gathering darkness the traces of emotion visible
on poor Elfric's countenance, and he began in his usual careless way--
"How are you, Elfric, my boy; glad Lent is nearly over? What a dismal
time that wretched monk preached this morning!"

"Edwy, I am utterly miserable: I must tell all; I cannot live like this