THE PEREGRINE FALCON 
that this was holy ground where even the 
malevolence of man was checked. 
But it chanced that there was a warehouse by 
the river, owned by one Rafferty, who, in an 
upper storey of his granaries, kept many pigeons 
strange and rare breeds such as lolar had 
never seen before, but tame and easy killing. 
When times were hard, lolar sometimes stooped 
at parties of these pigeons which flew near the 
tower, and at length news of the havoc he 
wrought among them came to the ears of 
Rafferty himself. He lay in wait, gun in hand, 
at an upper window, but lolar, that cunning 
fowler, never came within shot, but struck a 
prize tumbler before its owner's eyes and 
retired unharmed to sanctuary. 
Then came a storm from the nor '-west, and 
fleecy snowdrifts were piled up on the window- 
sills. The peregrine hawked round the tower, 
but the wind drove the snow along so thickly 
and so fast that from the roof of the Lady 
Chapel one could scarcely see the great bulk 
of the spire. The starlings betook themselves 
to where the wind nipped less keenly : the 
pigeons fed in the roadways, and the sparrows 
took refuge among the chimney cowls. lolar 
was alone in the spire. Not even a bat 
stirred ; the spiders slept. The gutters were 
choked with smut-grimed sludge, and icicles 
53 
