Early next morning the people coming to Mass were filled with great astonishment to see that the Apostles had disappeared and in their place were carvings the most beautiful imaginable of the Adoration of Our Lord by the Three Magi. Many and loud were their expressions of wonder and admiration, and, ever as the news spread, the crowd of those gazing increased, until nigh half the town stood round the West Porch. All agreed that cunning as William’s work had been, it was naught compared with this. ‘Nay,’ they said among themselves, ‘William doth well enough, but this is beyond him; this is plainly the hand of God. Glory be to the Blessed Virgin, that we should live to see such a great miracle worked, and in this our town too.’ Then up spake a certain cordwainer, ‘Now I call to mind somewhat I saw late last night, as I came from Mistress Woolcomb’s churching-ale.’ ‘And what was that?’ they asked him. ‘Marry, ’twas full moon,’ said he, ‘and wondrous bright, and casting my eyes on the Abbey Church as I came down the Abbey hill, ’twas as though I saw three great fellows hard at work on yon porch. I had drunk full heavy of Mistress Woolcomb’s strong ale, and I weened I had been deceived, else had I spoken before, but now methinks they were wondrous large for mortal men and had each a glory round his head very sweet and comfortable to see.’ ‘Yea,’ quoth another, ‘and I saw them too as I came with the cordwainer, and I dared not speak either, for I had drunk full heavily and weened that they might not be there after all, and they had mighty wings all feathery on their shoulders and a great light was going forth out of them.’ ‘Doubtless,’ said the people, ‘these were three angels, and they it is who have wrought this beautiful work.’ Whereupon it straightway went through the town that the three Archangels had visited the Abbey Church in the night and had carved thereon the Adoration of the Magi in the stead of William’s usurers. This tale cast the whole place into a turmoil and, spreading into the country districts, caused the upland folk to come into Roodborough in hundreds in order to see the angelic handiwork. For many days the town was like a fair with so many people coming and going, with such selling of meat and beer and bread, such cryings for lodging and stabling, such companies of pilgrims, so many monks and friars and so many minstrels and tumblers. Never before had the alehouses and hostelries been so full, and never before had so much good coin flowed into them in so short time. Meanwhile William, and Abel and Geoffrey, played mum-budget and held their tongues, privily laughing and girding one another, saluting each other by ‘Blessed Archangel Michael,’ or ‘Good Sir Raphael,’ or ‘My Lord Gabriel.’ William said that never before had folk so fully owned to his skilful craftsmanship, and he should without doubt be able to sell the Apostles elsewhere for a good round sum.