“And I,” quoth the cellarius, “how am I to be father unto the whole convent inasmuch as meat and drink be concerned, when I have not a penny left to spend in township or market? By the rules of the Order, _Statutis Ordinis_, when any monk at table asks me for bread or for beer, in reason, I am to give it him; but how am I to give without the wherewithal?” “And I,” said the chamberlain, “how am I to find, for both monks and novices, gowns and garters, half socks and whole socks, and bed and bedding, and linsey-woolsey for sheets and shirts, and knives, and razors, and combs, in order that the convent go clean and cleanly shaved? Aye, tell me how I am to change the straw of the beds, provide baths for the refreshment of the bodies of the monks, to find shoes for the horses and spurs for the monks when they are sent travelling, to keep and entertain two bathers and four tailors, when Abbat Thurstan hath taken mine all or hath forced me to give it to laymen and strangers and Norwich Jews? Let our universal poverty say whether this hath been a misgoverned house! Brothers, judge for yourselves whether Thurstan, who hath brought down all this ruin upon us, ought to be allowed to rule over us!” The crafty prior said in a quieter tone of voice, “For my part, I will not now dwell upon these temporal evils, albeit they are hard for men in the flesh to bear; but I would bid the convent take heed lest one and all they incur the sentence of excommunication by the pope himself. It is now quite clear that Pope Gregory wills that William the Norman shall be King of England, and that the English church, with all English houses of religion, shall submit to him, and take their instructions from Archbishop Lanfranc.” When the meeting in the hall broke up, the chamberlain said to the prior, “We shall yet have the pleasure of burning Girolamo as a necromancer!” “An he be not the Jew that cannot die,” quoth the prior. When the Salernitan reached the Camp that evening he said to the Lord of Brunn, “Certes the monks of Ely will no longer say I am a wizard; but there be traitors among them, and much do I fear that their rebellious stomachs will make traitors of them all!” “Against that must we provide,” quoth the Lord Hereward; “to-morrow we must go get them corn and wine from the Normans. Our stratagem is well laid, but we must die rather than fail. So good night, Girolamo, and to our tents and sheepskins.” CHAPTER XXII. HEREWARD BRINGS CORN AND WINE TO ELY.