The women turned pale, and the men looked at each other anxiously, listening to hear if any damage had been done.

But, as nothing transpired, their spirits revived.

A few minutes afterwards word was brought that the Conventual Church had been struck by a thunderbolt, but this was not regarded as a very serious disaster.

The bearer of the intelligence was little Jennet, who said she had been caught in the ruins by the storm, and after being dreadfully frightened by the lightning, had seen a bolt strike the steeple, and heard some stones rattle down, after which she ran away.

No one thought of inquiring what she had been doing there at the time, but room was made for her at the supper-table next to Sampson Harrop, while the good steward, patting her on the head, filled her a cup of canary with his own hand, and gave her some cates to eat.
"Ey dunna see Alizon" observed the little girl, looking round the table, after she had drunk the wine.
"Your sister is not here, Jennet," replied Adam Whitworth, with a smile.
"She is too great a lady for us now.