apt illustration of Anlaf's words.

"My boy," I said, "there is nothing perfect on earth. In the visible
church the evil is mingled with the good. Yet the church is the fold
of the Good Shepherd, and there is salvation therein for all who love
and serve their Lord, and strive humbly to follow His example, and
those of His blessed Saints."

"May I think over all you have said, and meet you next Sunday? You
will be here, will you not?"

And he looked imploringly in my face. Poor boy! my heart bled for him.

So we parted, and he went home.

Friday, November 11th.--

I feel thoroughly uneasy and anxious about the sheriff's proceedings.
He has been about the neighbourhood today, and seems to have been
talking secretly with all the black sheep of my flock; thank God, I do
not think there are many. What they can be going to do, or what plot
they are hatching, I cannot discover, only I fear that it is some
design for vengeance upon the Danes--some dark treachery plotted
against those in our midst; and, if such is the case, I can but feel
uneasy for poor Alfgar. I wish the lad would leave his home, if but
for a short time, until the signs are less threatening; but he would
not forsake his father in danger, and I ought hardly to wish it.

St. Brice's Day, Sunday, November 13th--