"What's the matter?--Who are you?" cried the Abbot, rubbing his eyes, which the celestial splendour of his visitor had set a-winking. "Ave Maria! St. Austin himself!--Speak, _Beatissime_! what would you with the humblest of your votaries?" "Anselm!" said the Saint, "a brother of our order, whose soul Heaven assoilzie! hath been foully murdered. He hath been ignominiously kicked to the death, Anselm; and there he lieth cheek-by-jowl with a wretched carcass, which our sister Bridget has turned out of her cemetery for unseemly grinning.--Arouse thee, Anselm!" "Ay, so please you, _Sanctissime_!" said the Abbot. "I will order forthwith that thirty masses be said, thirty _Paters_, and thirty _Aves_." "Thirty fools' heads!" interrupted his patron, who was a little peppery. "I will send for bell, book, and candle--" "Send for an inkhorn, Anselm.--Write me now a letter to his Holiness the Pope in good round terms, and another to the Coroner, and another to the Sheriff, and seize me the never-enough-to-be-anathematised villain who hath done this deed! Hang him as high as Haman, Anselm!--up with him!--down with his dwelling-place, root and branch, hearthstone and roof-tree,--down with it all, and sow the site with salt and sawdust!" St. Austin, it will be perceived, was a radical reformer. "Marry will I," quoth the Abbot, warming with the Saint's eloquence: "ay, marry will I, and that _instanter_. But there is one thing you have forgotten, most Beatified--the name of the culprit." "Robert de Shurland." "The Lord of Sheppey! Bless me!" said the Abbot, crossing himself, "won't that be rather inconvenient? Sir Robert is a bold baron, and a powerful;--blows will come and go, and crowns will be cracked and--" "What is that to you, since yours will not be of the number?" "Very true, _Beatissime_!--I will don me with speed, and do your bidding." "Do so, Anselm!--fail not to hang the baron, burn his castle, confiscate his estate, and buy me two large wax candles for my own particular shrine out of your share of the property." With this solemn injunction the vision began to fade. "One thing more!" cried the Abbot, grasping his rosary. "What is that?" asked the Saint. "_O Beate Augustine, ora pro nobis!_" "Of course I shall," said St. Austin. "_Pax vobiscum!_"--and Abbot Anselm was left alone.