This has been a harassing and eventful day. Early in the morning, before the high mass, whereat the neighbourhood is generally present, I received a missive from the sheriff, bidding me, in the name of the King, to exhort my people to remain at home tonight, since danger is afoot, and there is likely, he says, to be a rising on the part of the pagans who dwell amongst us. Why, they are but one in five in this neighbourhood; hardly that. I determined to give the message in my own way, for I could not keep silent, lest, through fault of mine, any of my sheep should perish. So I preached upon the Saint of the day, who was pre-eminently a man of peace, and I took occasion to tell my people that there were many hurtful men about, who, like their master, Satan, were seeking whom they might devour, and that, like that master, they chose the night for their misdeeds, seeing they loved darkness rather than light. So I said I hoped every good Christian would keep at home, and go to bed early.