The MournerOf such trial and transactions the boy Grigorss knew nothing, nor of himself and his connexions anything save what the day brought forth. Among the fisher-children, who took him for their brother as he did them, he grew up, and also to the island folk, when they troubled about it at all, he passed for Wiglaf’s and Mahaute’s youngest. For the Abbot’s fairy-tale invented on the spur of the moment, that he was from St Aldhelm, the son of Ethelwulf’s ailing daughter, there had been no need, or even if at first, it had been early lost to the memory of the folk. He wore the common clothing of his brothers, and when he was three he began to talk like them and their parents, said: ‘Wat for a thing’ and ‘I don’t keer.’ But from the Abbot, his godfather and frequent visitor, he had learne
