surrounding forests was quenched and eclipsed here. Not a beam of
it sifted down-ward through the branches of the oak. It stood like
a pillar of cloud between the still light of heaven and the
crackling, flashing fire of earth.

But the fire itself was invisible to Winfried and his companions.
A great throng of people were gathered around it in a half-circle,
their backs to the open glade, their faces towards the oak. Seen
against that glowing background, it was but the silhouette of a
crowd, vague, black, formless, mysterious.

The travellers paused for a moment at the edge of the thicket, and
took counsel together.

"It is the assembly of the tribe," said one of the foresters, "the
great night of the council. I heard of it three days ago, as we
passed through one of the villages. All who swear by the old gods
have been summoned. They will sacrifice a steed to the god of war,
and drink blood, and eat horse-flesh to make them strong. It will
be at the peril of our lives if we approach them. At least we must
hide the cross, if we would escape death."

"Hide me no cross," cried Winfried, lifting his staff, "for I have
come to show it, and to make these blind folk see its power. There
is more to be done here to-night than the slaying of a steed, and
a greater evil to be stayed than the shameful eating of meat
sacrificed to idols. I have seen it in a dream. Here the cross
must stand and be our rede."

At his command the sledge was left in the border of the wood, with