Script, June 13, 1911. "=I made that building. All that I didde anywhere is fannes. Ne barrel vault. And under them, three faire windowes of foure lights, with transomes and littel castel-work on the ramps thereof ... and each fanne had twelve ribs, and they were ycoloured red and gold, like my chapel of Edgar....= "=... Ye roundels of ye volte were golden, and also ye bosses, and ye hollows were bright redde, likewise ye tabernacle of Oure Ladye in the est wall golde and redde; and ye windowes were of glasse yellow in canopies with redde and blewe in ye little lights thereof. Ye floore was of tileis red, with shields and ornaments in yellow likewise."...= EXISTING DATA (_a_) As an integral part of the Church the probabilities lie in the direction of the use of Bere's own master-masons for this work, and the choice of the customary English style seems to follow. This would be all the more consistent with probabilities if the work were involved with the strengthening of the older masonry at the crossing of the Church--a work known to have been necessary, since Leland records the fact that Bere strengthened the central tower by the addition of the "St. Andrew's" arches beneath it (see Plate III). (_b_) The fragments of window-tracery already referred to as having been found on the site are English in character. WORKING HYPOTHESIS. _That the building in the angle of the nave and transept was formed with the double object of a support to the weak walls of the crossing, and as a covered approach to the Chapel of the Loretto, erected by Abbot Bere on a site adjoining the north side of the nave, but not attached directly to same, and that this cloister was built in the later English style in which his own masons were expert._ ENVOI THE LAMPLIGHTER One by one, along the crowded street The footsteps falter, and the stillness grows Oppressive as the sudden hush that falls In shaded chambers whence a life has flown. One by one, the ruddy windows fade To utter darkness, while behind closed doors The voices cease, and all the shadowy night Broods o'er a city of the seeming dead; Save only that amid the shadows gleam Dim lights that trace the form of street and square And guide the wanderer in his mazy quest Through ways all unfamiliar. He that lit The starry welcome now is seen no more. His light extinguished and his duty done, He peaceful sleeps within his silent home. We see him not; and yet perchance he hears In dreams our echoing voices as we pass Athwart his shuttered windows--hears us bless The light he lighted, gleaming through the night A welcome to the lost and weary; wakes perchance To murmur, "All is well," then sleeps again. So may he sleep in peace until the Sun From which his flame was borrowed wakes the East To crimson glory, and his glimmering lights Merge in the splendour of the breaking Day. JOHN ALLEYNE.