The church is very small and more ancient than I can say, for it is built of flint bound together with such mortar as the Romans used in their castles, hard as stone itself, and it stands in the midst of the Roman camp that guarded the ford, so that maybe it was the first church in all East Anglia, for we use wood; and, moreover, this stone church is rounded at the east end, and has a barrier dividing the body of the building into two, beyond which the as yet unbaptized must sit, as men say.

And so strong and thick are the walls that I do not know how they can ever fall.
Now through the narrow windows shone lights, and I heard the sound of chanting.

Leof held my horse, and I opened the door gently and went in.
At once there was a shrinking together of a group of men, mostly monks, who stood at the upper end of the church where the chancel begins.

They were chanting the third psalm, for help against the heathen, and it faltered for a moment.

But they were mostly monks of the bishop's own household, and knew me well enough, and they ended it shortly.
Then there was silence, for they were holding none of the set services, but rather as it seemed doing the bishop's bidding, and praying with him in the best way for the ceasing of this new trouble, as in time of pestilence once I remembered that he made litanies for us.