The Armourers' Prentices By Charlotte M. Yonge________________________________________________________________This is a story about two young orphans from Hampshire, who travel toLondon in search of relatives. On the way they rescue a prominent Cityof London figure after he has been attacked by highwaymen, and in thisway they become attached to his household in the City. The date is theearly years of Henry the Eighth, when the religious world of England issimmering not only with the new views on religion, but also with theproblems of the King and his Divorces. We meet great figures like DeanColet, famous even to this very day for his charitable foundations, Thomas More, and other great figures of the pre-Reformation years. It is a very lively story that rings true at every turn, and is worthwhile reading for those who would like a further understanding of thelate Tudor Court, and the customs in the City, prevailing at the time ofthe Reformation. ________________________________________________________________THE ARMOURERS' PRENTICES BY CHARLOTTE M. YONGE CHAPTER ONE. THE VERDURER'S LODGE. "Give me the poor allottery my father left me by testament, with that Iwill go buy me fortunes. " "Get you with him, you old dog. " _As You Like It_. The officials of the New Forest have ever since the days of theConqueror enjoyed some of the pleasantest dwellings that southernEngland can boast. The home of the Birkenholt family was not one of the least delightful. It stood at the foot of a rising ground, on which grew a grove ofmagnificent beeches, their large silvery boles rising majestically likecolumns into a lofty vaulting of branches, covered above with tendergreen foliage. Here and there the shade beneath was broken by thegilding of a ray of sunshine on a lower twig, or on a white trunk, butthe floor of the vast arcades was almost entirely of the russet brown ofthe fallen leaves, save where a fern or holly bush made a spot of green. At the foot of the slope lay a stretch of pasture ground, some partscovered by "lady-smocks, all silver white, " with the course of thelittle stream through the midst indicated by a perfect golden river ofshining kingcups interspersed with ferns. Beyond lay tracts of brownheath and brilliant gorse and broom, which stretched for miles and milesalong the flats, while the dry ground was covered with holly brake, andhere and there woods of oak and beech made a sea of verdure, purpling inthe distance. Cultivation was not attempted, but hardy little ponies, cows, goats, sheep, and pigs were feeding, and picking their way about in the marshymead below, and a small garden of pot-herbs, inclosed by a strong fenceof timber, lay on the sunny side of a spacious rambling forest lodge, only one story high, built of solid timber and roofed with shingle. Itwas not without strong pretensions to beauty, as well as topicturesqueness, for the posts of the door, the architecture of the deepporch, the frames of the latticed windows, and the verge boards were allrichly carved in grotesque devices. Over the door was the royal shield, between a pair of magnificent antlers, the spoils of a deer reported tohave been slain by King Edward the Fourth, as was denoted by the"glorious sun of York" carved beneath the shield. In the background among the trees were ranges of stables and kennels, and on the grass-plat in front of the windows was a row of beehives. Atame doe lay on the little green sward, not far from a large rough deer-hound, both close friends who could be trusted at large. There was amournful dispirited look about the hound, evidently an aged animal, forthe once black muzzle was touched with grey, and there was a film overone of the keen beautiful eyes, which opened eagerly as he pricked hisears and lifted his head at the rattle of the door latch. Then, as twoboys came out, he rose, and with a slowly waving tail, and a wistfulappealing air, came and laid his head against one of the pair who hadappeared in the pont. They were lads of fourteen and fifteen, clad insuits of new mourning, with the short belted doublet, puffed hose, smallruffs and little round caps of early Tudor times. They had dark eyesand hair, and honest open faces, the younger ruddy and sunburnt, theelder thinner and more intellectual--and they were so much the same sizethat the advantage of age was always supposed to be on the side ofStephen, though he was really the junior by nearly a year. Both weresad and grave, and the eyes and cheeks of Stephen showed traces ofrecent floods of tears, though there was more settled dejection on thecountenance of his brother. "Ay, Spring, " said the lad, "'tis winter with thee now. A poor oldrogue! Did the new housewife talk of a halter because he showed histeeth when her ill-nurtured brat wanted to ride on him? Nay, oldSpring, thou shalt share thy master's fortunes, changed though they be. Oh, father! father! didst thou guess how it would be with thy boys!"And throwing himself on the grass, he hid his face against the dog andsobbed. "Come, Stephen, Stephen; 'tis time to play the man! What are we to doout in the world if you weep and wail?" "She might have let us stay for the month's mind, " was heard fromStephen. "Ay, and though we might be more glad to go, we might carry bittererthoughts along with us. Better be done with it at once, say I. " "There would still be the Forest! And I saw the moorhen sitting yestereve! And the wild ducklings are out on the pool, and the woods are fullof song. Oh! Ambrose! I never knew how hard it is to part--" "Nay, now, Steve, where be all your plots for bravery? You always meantto seek your fortune--not bide here like an acorn for ever. " "I never thought to be thrust forth the very day of our poor father'sburial, by a shrewish town-bred vixen, and a base narrow-souled--" "Hist! hist!" said the more prudent Ambrose. "Let him hear who will! He cannot do worse for us than he has done!All the Forest will cry shame on him for a mean-hearted skinflint toturn his brothers from their home, ere their father and his, be cold inhis grave, " cried Stephen, clenching the grass with his hands, in hispassionate sense of wrong. "That's womanish, " said Ambrose. "Who'll be the woman when the time comes for drawing cold steel?" criedStephen, sitting up. At that moment there came through the porch a man, a few years overthirty, likewise in mourning, with a paler, sharper countenance than thebrothers, and an uncomfortable pleading expression of self-justification. "How now, lads!" he said, "what means this? You have taken the mattertoo hastily. There was no thought that ye should part till you had somepurpose in view. Nay, we should be fain for Ambrose to bide on here, sohe would leave his portion for me to deal with, and teach little Willhis primer and accidence. You are a quiet lad, Ambrose, and can ruleyour tongue better than Stephen. " "Thanks, brother John, " said Ambrose, somewhat sarcastically, "but whereStephen goes I go. " "I would--I would have found Stephen a place among the prickers orrangers, if--" hesitated John. "In sooth, I would yet do it, if hewould make it up with the housewife. " "My father looked higher for his son than a pricker's office, " returnedAmbrose. "That do I wot, " said John, "and therefore, 'tis for his own good that Iwould send him forth. His godfather, our uncle Birkenholt, he willassuredly provide for him, and set him forth--" The door of the house was opened, and a shrewish voice cried, "MrBirkenholt--here, husband! You are wanted. Here's little Kate cryingto have yonder smooth pouch to stroke, and I cannot reach it for her. " "Father set store by that otter-skin pouch, for poor Prince Arthur slewthe otter, " cried Stephen. "Surely, John, you'll not let the babes makea toy of that?" John made a helpless gesture, and at a renewed call, went indoors. "You are right, Ambrose, " said Stephen, "this is no place for us. Whyshould we tarry any longer to see everything moiled and set at nought?I have couched in the forest before, and 'tis summer time. " "Nay, " said Ambrose, "we must make up our fardels and have our money inour pouches before we can depart. We must tarry the night, and callJohn to his reckoning, and so might we set forth early enough in themorning to lie at Winchester that night and take counsel with our uncleBirkenholt. " "I would not stop short at Winchester, " said Stephen. "London for me, where uncle Randall will find us preferment!" "And what wilt do for Spring!" "Take him with me, of course!" exclaimed Stephen. "What! would I leavehim to be kicked and pinched by Will, and hanged belike by MistressMaud?" "I doubt me whether the poor old hound will brook the journey. " "Then I'll carry him!" Ambrose looked at the big dog as if he thought it would be a seriousundertaking, but he had known and loved Spring as his brother's propertyever since his memory began, and he scarcely felt that they could beseparable for weal or woe. The verdurers of the New Forest were of gentle blood, and their officewas well-nigh hereditary. The Birkenholts had held it for manygenerations, and the reversion passed as a matter of course to theeldest son of the late holder, who had newly been laid in the burial-ground of Beaulieu Abbey. John Birkenholt, whose mother had been ofknightly lineage, had resented his father's second marriage with thedaughter of a yeoman on the verge of the Forest, suspected of a strainof gipsy blood, and had lived little at home, becoming a sort of agentat Southampton for business connected with the timber which was yearlycut in the Forest to supply material for the shipping. He had weddedthe daughter of a person engaged in law business at Southampton, and hadonly been an occasional visitor at home, ever after the death of hisstepmother. She had left these two boys, unwelcome appendages in hissight. They had obtained a certain amount of education at BeaulieuAbbey, where a school was kept, and where Ambrose daily studied, thoughfor the last few months Stephen had assisted his father in his forestduties. Death had come suddenly to break up the household in the early spring of1515, and John Birkenholt had returned as if to a patrimony, bringinghis wife and children with him. The funeral ceremonies had beenconducted at Beaulieu Abbey on the extensive scale of the sixteenthcentury, the requiem, the feast, and the dole, all taking place there, leaving the Forest lodge in its ordinary quiet. It had always been understood that on their father's death the twoyounger sons must make their own way in the world; but he had hoped tolive until they were a little older, when he might himself have startedthem in life, or expressed his wishes respecting them to their elderbrother. As it was, however, there was no commendation of them, nothingbut a strip of parchment, drawn up by one of the monks of Beaulieu, leaving each of them twenty crowns, with a few small jewels andproperties left by their own mother, while everything else went to theirbrother. There might have been some jealousy excited by the estimation in whichStephen's efficiency--boy as he was--was evidently held by the plain-spoken underlings of the verdurer; and this added to MistressBirkenholt's dislike to the presence of her husband's half-brothers, whom she regarded as interlopers without a right to exist. Matters werebrought to a climax by old Spring's resentment at being roughly teasedby her spoilt children. He had done nothing worse than growl and showhis teeth, but the town-bred dame had taken alarm, and half in terror, half in spite, had insisted on his instant execution, since he was tooold to be valuable. Stephen, who loved the dog only less than he lovedhis brother Ambrose, had come to high words with her; and the end of thealtercation had been that she had declared that she would suffer nogreat lubbers of the half-blood to devour her children's inheritance, and teach them ill manners, and that go they must, and that instantly. John had muttered a little about "not so fast, dame, " and "for veryshame, " but she had turned on him, and rated him with a violence thatdemonstrated who was ruler in the house, and took away all dispositionto tarry long under the new dynasty. The boys possessed two uncles, one on each side of the house. Theirfather's elder brother had been a man-at-arms, having preferred astirring life to the Forest, and had fought in the last surges of theWars of the Roses. Having become disabled and infirm, he had takenadvantage of a corrody, or right of maintenance, as being of kin to abenefactor of Hyde Abbey at Winchester, to which Birkenholt somegenerations back had presented a few roods of land, in right of which, one descendant at a time might be maintained in the Abbey. Intelligenceof his brother's death had been sent to Richard Birkenholt, but answerhad been returned that he was too evil-disposed with the gout to attendthe burial. The other uncle, Harry Randall, had disappeared from the country under acloud connected with the king's deer, leaving behind him the reputationof a careless, thriftless, jovial fellow, the best company in all theForest, and capable of doing every one a work save his own. The two brothers, who were about seven and six years old at the time ofhis flight, had a lively recollection of his charms as a playmate, andof their mother's grief for him, and refusal to believe any ill of herHal. Rumours had come of his attainment to vague and unknown greatnessat court, under the patronage of the Lord Archbishop of York, which theVerdurer laughed to scorn, though his wife gave credit to them. Giftshad come from time to time, passed through a succession of servants andofficials of the king, such as a coral and silver rosary, a jewelledbodkin, an agate carved with Saint Catherine, an ivory pouncet box witha pierced gold coin as the lid; but no letter with them, as indeed HalRandall had never been induced to learn to read or write. MasterBirkenholt looked doubtfully at the tokens and hoped Hal had comehonestly by them; but his wife had thoroughly imbued her sons with thebelief that Uncle Hal was shining in his proper sphere, where he wasbetter appreciated than at home. Thus their one plan was to go toLondon to find Uncle Hal, who was sure to put Stephen on the road tofortune, and enable Ambrose to become a great scholar, his favouriteambition. His gifts would, as Ambrose observed, serve them as tokens, and with thepurpose of claiming them, they re-entered the hall, a long low room, with a handsome open roof, and walls tapestried with dressed skins, interspersed with antlers, hung with weapons of the chase. At one endof the hall was a small polished barrel, always replenished with beer, at the other a hearth with a wood fire constantly burning, and there wasa table running the whole length of the room; at one end of this waslaid a cloth, with a few trenchers on it, and horn cups, surrounding abarley loaf and a cheese, this meagre irregular supper being consideredas a sufficient supplement to the funeral baked meats which had aboundedat Beaulieu. John Birkenholt sat at the table with a trencher and hornbefore him, uneasily using his knife to crumble, rather than cut, hisbread. His wife, a thin, pale, shrewish-looking woman, was warming herchild's feet at the fire, before putting him to bed, and an old womansat spinning and nodding on a settle at a little distance. "Brother, " said Stephen, "we have thought on what you said. We will putour stuff together, and if you will count us out our portions, we willbe afoot by sunrise to-morrow. " "Nay, nay, lad, I said not there was such haste; did I, mistresshousewife?"--(she snorted); "only that thou art a well-grown lustyfellow, and 'tis time thou wentest forth. For thee, Ambrose, thouwottest I made thee a fair offer of bed and board. " "That is, " called out the wife, "if thou wilt make a fair scholar oflittle Will. 'Tis a mighty good offer. There are not many who wouldlet their child be taught by a mere stripling like thee!" "Nay, " said Ambrose, who could not bring himself to thank her, "I gowith Stephen, mistress; I would in end my scholarship ere I teach. " "As you please, " said Mistress Maud, shrugging her shoulders, "onlynever say that a fair offer was not made to you. " "And, " said Stephen, "so please you, brother John, hand us over ourportions, and the jewels as bequeathed to us, and we will be gone. " "Portions, quotha?" returned John. "Boy, they be not due to you tillyou be come to years of discretion. " The brothers looked at one another, and Stephen said, "Nay, now, brother, I know not how that may be, but I do know that you cannot driveus from our father's house without maintenance, and detain what belongsto us. " And Ambrose muttered something about "my Lord of Beaulieu. " "Look you, now, " said John, "did I ever speak of driving you from homewithout maintenance? Hath not Ambrose had his choice of staying here, and Stephen of waiting till some office be found for him? As forputting forty crowns into the hands of striplings like you, it were merethrowing it to the robbers. " "That being so, " said Ambrose turning to Stephen, "we will to Beaulieu, and see what counsel my lord will give us. " "Yea, do, like the vipers ye are, and embroil us with my Lord ofBeaulieu, " cried Maud from the fire. "See, " said John, in his more caressing fashion, "it is not well tocarry family tales to strangers, and--and--" He was disconcerted by a laugh from the old nurse, "Ho! JohnBirkenholt, thou wast ever a lad of smooth tongue, but an thou, or madamhere, think that thy brothers can be put forth from thy father's doorwithout their due before the good man be cold in his grave, and theForest not ring with it, thou art mightily out in thy reckoning!" "Peace, thou old hag; what matter is't of thine?" began Mistress Maud, but again came the harsh laugh. "Matter of mine! Why, whose matter should it be but mine, that havenursed all three of the lads, ay, and their father before them, besidesfour more that lie in the graveyard at Beaulieu? Rest their sweetsouls! And I tell thee, Master John, an thou do not righteously bythese thy brothers, thou mayst back to thy parchments at Southampton, for not a man or beast in the Forest will give thee good-day. " They all felt the old woman's authority. She was able and spirited inher homely way, and more mistress of the house than Mrs Birkenholtherself; and such were the terms of domestic service, that there was noperil of losing her place. Even Maud knew that to turn her out was animpossibility, and that she must be accepted like the loneliness, damp, and other evils of Forest life. John had been under her dominion, andproceeded to persuade her. "Good now, Nurse Joan, what have I deniedthese rash striplings that my father would have granted them? Wouldstthou have them carry all their portion in their hands, to be cozened ofit at the first alehouse, or robbed on the next heath?" "I would have thee do a brother's honest part, John Birkenholt. Aloving part I say not. Thou wert always like a very popple forhardness, and smoothness, ay, and slipperiness. Heigh ho! But what isright by the lads, thou _shalt_ do. " John cowered under her eye as he had done at six years old, andfaltered, "I only seek to do them right, nurse. " Nurse Joan uttered an emphatic grunt, but Mistress Maud broke in, "Theyare not to hang about here in idleness, eating my poor child'ssubstance, and teaching him ill manners. " "We would not stay here if you paid us for it, " returned Stephen. "And whither would you go?" asked John. "To Winchester first, to seek counsel with our uncle Birkenholt. Thento London, where uncle Randall will help us to our fortunes. " "Gipsy Hal! He is more like to help you to a halter, " sneered John, _sotto voce_, and Joan herself observed, "Their uncle at Winchester willshow them better than to run after that there go-by-chance. " However, as no one wished to keep the youths, and they were equallydetermined to go, an accommodation was come to at last. John wasinduced to give them three crowns apiece and to yield them up the fivesmall trinkets specified, though not without some murmurs from his wife. It was no doubt safer to leave the rest of the money in his hands thanto carry it with them, and he undertook that it should be forthcoming, if needed for any fit purpose, such as the purchase of an office, anapprentice's fee, or an outfit as a squire. It was a vague promise thatcost him nothing just then, and thus could be readily made, and John'sgreat desire was to get them away so that he could aver that they hadgone by their own free will, without any hardship, for he had seenenough at his father's obsequies to show him that the love and sympathyof all the scanty dwellers in the Forest was with them. Nurse Joan had fought their battles, but with the sore heart of one whowas parting with her darlings never to see them again. She bade themdoff their suits of mourning that she might make up their fardels, asthey would travel in their Lincoln-green suits. To take these sherepaired to the little rough shed-like chamber where the two brotherslay for the last time on their pallet bed, awake, and watching for her, with Spring at their feet. The poor old woman stood over them, as overthe motherless nurslings whom she had tended, and she should probablynever see more, but she was a woman of shrewd sense, and perceived that"with the new madam in the hall" it was better that they should be gonebefore worse ensued. She advised leaving their valuables sealed up in the hands of my LordAbbot, but they were averse to this--for they said their uncle Randall, who had not seen them since they were little children, would not knowthem without some pledge. She shook her head. "The less you deal with Hal Randall the better, "she said. "Come now, lads, be advised and go no farther thanWinchester, where Master Ambrose may get all the book-learning he isever craving for, and you, Master Stevie, may prentice yourself to somegood trade. " "Prentice!" cried Stephen, scornfully. "Ay, ay. As good blood as thine has been prenticed, " returned Joan. "Better so than be a cut-throat sword-and-buckler fellow, ever slayingsome one else or getting thyself slain--a terror to all peaceful folk. But thine uncle will see to that--a steady-minded lad always was he--wasMaster Dick. " Consoling herself with this hope, the old woman rolled up their newsuits with some linen into two neat knapsacks; sighing over the thoughtthat unaccustomed fingers would deal with the shirts she had spun, bleached, and sewn. But she had confidence in "Master Dick, " andconcluded that to send his nephews to him at Winchester gave a farbetter chance of their being cared for, than letting them be floutedinto ill-doing by their grudging brother and his wife. CHAPTER TWO. THE GRANGE OF SILKSTEDE. "All Itchen's valley lay, Saint Catherine's breezy side and the woodlands far away, The huge Cathedral sleeping in venerable gloom, The modest College tower, and the bedesmen's Norman home. " Lord Selborne. Very early in the morning, even according to the habits of the time, were Stephen and Ambrose Birkenholt astir. They were full of ardour toenter on the new and unknown world beyond the Forest, and much as theyloved it, any change that kept them still to their altered life wouldhave been distasteful. Nurse Joan, asking no questions, folded up their fardels on their backs, and packed the wallets for their day's journey with ample provision. She charged them to be good lads, to say their Pater, Credo, and Avedaily, and never omit Mass on a Sunday. They kissed her like theirmother and promised heartily--and Stephen took his crossbow. They hadhad some hope of setting forth so early as to avoid all other _human_farewells, except that Ambrose wished to begin by going to Beaulieu totake leave of the Father who had been his kind master, and get hisblessing and counsel. But Beaulieu was three miles out of their way, and Stephen had not the same desire, being less attached to hisschoolmaster and more afraid of hindrances being thrown in their way. Moreover, contrary to their expectation, their elder brother came forth, and declared his intention of setting them forth on their way, bestowinga great amount of good advice, to the same purport as that of nurseJoan, namely, that they should let their uncle Richard Birkenholt findthem some employment at Winchester, where they, or at least Ambrose, might even obtain admission into the famous college of Saint Mary. In fact, this excellent elder brother persuaded himself that it would bedoing them an absolute wrong to keep such promising youths hidden in theForest. The purpose of his going thus far with them made itself evident. It wasto see them past the turning to Beaulieu. No doubt he wished to tellthe story in his own way, and that they should not present themselvesthere as orphans expelled from their father's house. It would soundmuch better that he had sent them to ask counsel of their uncle atWinchester, the fit person to take charge of them. And as herepresented that to go to Beaulieu would lengthen their day's journey somuch that they might hardly reach Winchester that night, while allStephen's wishes were to go forward, Ambrose could only send hisgreetings. There was another debate over Spring, who had followed hismaster as usual. John uttered an exclamation of vexation at perceivingit, and bade Stephen drive the dog back. "Or give me the leash to draghim. He will never follow me. " "He goes with us, " said Stephen. "He! Thou'lt never have the folly! The old hound is half blind andpast use. No man will take thee in with him after thee. " "Then they shall not take me in, " said Stephen. "I'll not leave him tobe hanged by thee. " "Who spoke of hanging him!" "Thy wife will soon, if she hath not already. " "Thou wilt be for hanging him thyself ere thou have made a day's journeywith him on the king's highway, which is not like these forest paths, Iwould have thee to know. Why, he limps already. " "Then I'll carry him, " said Stephen, doggedly. "What hast thou to say to that device, Ambrose?" asked John, appealingto the elder and wiser. But Ambrose only answered "I'll help, " and as John had no particulardesire to retain the superannuated hound, and preferred on the whole tobe spared sentencing him, no more was said on the subject as they wentalong, until all John's stock of good counsel had been lavished on hisbrothers' impatient ears. He bade them farewell, and turned back to thelodge, and they struck away along the woodland pathway which they hadbeen told led to Winchester, though they had never been thither, norseen any town save Southampton and Romsey at long intervals. On theywent, sometimes through beech and oak woods of noble, almost primeval, trees, but more often across tracts of holly underwood, illuminated hereand there with the snowy garlands of the wild cherry, and beneath withwide spaces covered with young green bracken, whose soft irregularmasses on the undulating ground had somewhat the effect of the waves ofthe sea. These alternated with stretches of yellow gorse and brownheather, sheets of cotton-grass, and pools of white crowfoot, and allthe vegetation of a mountain side, only that the mountain was not there. The brothers looked with eyes untaught to care for beauty, but with acertain love of the home scenes, tempered by youth's impatience forsomething new. The nightingales sang, the thrushes flew out beforethem, the wild duck and moorhen glanced on the pools. Here and therethey came on the furrows left by the snout of the wild swine, and in theopen tracts rose the graceful heads of the deer, but of inhabitants ortravellers they scarce saw any, save when they halted at the littlehamlet of Minestead, where a small alehouse was kept by one WillPurkiss, who claimed descent from the charcoal-burner who had carriedWilliam Rufus's corpse to burial at Winchester--the one fact in historyknown to all New Foresters, though perhaps Ambrose and John were theonly persons beyond the walls of Beaulieu who did not suppose the affairto have taken place in the last generation. A draught of ale and a short rest were welcome as the heat of the daycame on, making the old dog plod wearily on with his tongue out, so thatStephen began to consider whether he should indeed have to be hisbearer--a serious matter, for the creature at full length measurednearly as much as he did. They met hardly any one, and they and Springwere alike too well known and trained, for difficulties to arise as toleading a dog through the Forest. Should they ever come to the term ofthe Forest? It was not easy to tell when they were really beyond it, for the ground was much of the same kind. Only the smooth, treelesshills, where they had always been told Winchester lay, seemed moredefined, and they saw no more deer, but here and there were inclosureswhere wheat and barley were growing, and black timbered farmhouses beganto show themselves at intervals. Herd boys, as rough and unkempt astheir charges, could be seen looking after little tawny cows, black-faced sheep, or spotted pigs, with curs which barked fiercely at poorweary Spring, even as their masters were more disposed to throw stonesthan to answer questions. By and by, on the further side of a green valley, could be seenbuildings with an encircling wall of flint and mortar faced with ruddybrick, the dark red-tiled roofs rising among walnut-trees, and anorchard in full bloom spreading into a long green field. "Winchester must be nigh. The sun is getting low, " said Stephen. "We will ask. The good folk will at least give us an answer, " saidAmbrose wearily. As they reached the gate, a team of plough horses was passing in led bya peasant lad, while a lay brother, with his gown tucked up, rodesideways on one, whistling. An Augustinian monk, ruddy, burly, andsunburnt, stood in the farm-yard, to receive an account of the day'swork, and doffing his cap, Ambrose asked whether Winchester were near. "Three mile or thereaway, my good lad, " said the monk; "thou'lt see thetowers an ye mount the hill. Whence art thou?" he added, looking at thetwo young strangers. "Scholars? The College elects not yet a while. " "We be from the Forest, so please your reverence, and are bound for HydeAbbey, where our uncle, Master Richard Birkenholt, dwells. " "And oh, sir, " added Stephen, "may we crave a drop of water for ourdog?" The monk smiled as he looked at Spring, who had flung himself down totake advantage of the halt, hanging out his tongue, and pantingspasmodically. "A noble beast, " he said, "of the Windsor breed, is'tnot?" Then laying his hand on the graceful head, "Poor old hound, thouart o'er travelled. He is aged for such a Journey, if you came from theForest since morn. Twelve years at the least, I should say, by hismuzzle. " "Your reverence is right, " said Stephen, "he is twelve years old. He istwo years younger than I am, and my father gave him to me when he was alittle whelp. " "So thou must needs take him to seek thy fortune with thee, " said thegood-natured Augustinian, not knowing how truly he spoke. "Come in, mylads, here's a drink for him. What said you was your uncle's name?" andas Ambrose repeated it, "Birkenholt! Living on a corrody at Hyde! Ay!ay! My lads, I have a call to Winchester to-morrow, you'd best tarrythe night here at Silkstede Grange, and fare forward with me. " The tired boys were heartily glad to accept the invitation, moreespecially as Spring, happy as he was with the trough of water beforehim, seemed almost too tired to stand over it, and after the first, tried to lap, lying down. Silkstede was not a regular convent, only agrange or farmhouse, presided over by one of the monks, with three orfour lay brethren under him, and a little colony of hinds, in thesurrounding cottages, to cultivate the farm, and tend a few cattle andnumerous sheep, the special care of the Augustinians. Father Shoveller, as the good-natured monk who had received thetravellers was called, took them into the spacious but homely chamberwhich served as refectory, kitchen, and hall. He called to the laybrother who was busy over the open hearth to fry a few more rashers ofbacon; and after they had washed away the dust of their Journey at thetrough where Spring had slaked his thirst, they sat down with him to ahearty supper, which smacked more of the grange than of the monastery, spread on a large solid oak table, and washed down with good ale. Therepast was shared by the lay brethren and farm servants, and also by twoor three big sheep-dogs, who had to be taught their manners towardsSpring. There was none of the formality that Ambrose was accustomed to atBeaulieu in the great refectory, where no one spoke, but one of thebrethren read aloud some theological book from a stone pulpit in thewall. Here Brother Shoveller conversed without stint, chiefly with thebrother who seemed to be a kind of bailiff, with whom he discussed thesheep that were to be taken into market the next day, and the prices tobe given for them by either the college, the castle, or the butchers ofBoucher Row. He however found time to talk to the two guests, and beingsprung from a family in the immediate neighbourhood, he knew theverdurer's name, and ere he was a monk, had joined in the chase in theForest. There was a little oratory attached to the hall, where he and the laybrethren kept the hours, to a certain degree, putting two or threeservices into one, on a liberal interpretation of _laborare est orare_. Ambrose's responses made their host observe as they went out, "Thou hastthy Latin pat, my son, there's the making of a scholar in thee. " Then they took their first night's rest away from home, in a smallguest-chamber, with a good bed, though bare in all other respects. Brother Shoveller likewise had a cell to himself but the lay brethrenslept promiscuously among their sheep-dogs on the floor of therefectory. All were afoot in the early morning, and Stephen and Ambrose wereawakened by the tumultuous bleatings of the flock of sheep that werebeing driven from their fold to meet their fate at Winchester market. They heard Brother Shoveller shouting his orders to the shepherds intones a great deal more like those of a farmer than of a monk, and theymade haste to dress themselves and join him as he was muttering amorning abbreviation of his obligatory devotions in the oratory, observing that they might be in time to hear mass at one of the citychurches, but the sheep might delay them, and they had best break theirfast ere starting. It was Wednesday, a day usually kept as a moderate fast, so thebreakfast was of oatmeal porridge, flavoured with honey, and washed downwith mead, after which Brother Shoveller mounted his mule, a sleekcreature, whose long ears had an air of great contentment, and rode off, accommodating his pace to that of his young companions up a stony cart-track which soon led them to the top of a chalk down, whence, as in amap, they could see Winchester, surrounded by its walls, lying in ahollow between the smooth green hills. At one end rose the castle, itsfortifications covering its own hill, beneath, in the valley, the long, low massive Cathedral, the college buildings and tower with itspinnacles, and nearer at hand, among the trees, the Almshouse of NoblePoverty at Saint Cross, beneath the round hill of Saint Catherine. Churches and monastic buildings stood thickly in the town, and indeed, Brother Shoveller said, shaking his head, that there were well-nigh asmany churches as folk to go to them; the place was decayed since thetime he remembered when Prince Arthur was born there. Hyde Abbey hecould not show them, from where they stood, as it lay further off by theriver side, having been removed from the neighbourhood of the Minster, because the brethren of Saint Grimbald could not agree with those ofSaint Swithun's belonging to the Minster, as indeed their buildings wereso close together that it was hardly possible to pass between them, andtheir bells jangled in each other's ears. Brother Shoveller did not seem to entertain a very high opinion of themonks of Saint Grimbald, and he asked the boys whether they wereexpected there. "No, " they said; "tidings of their father's death hadbeen sent by one of the woodmen, and the only answer that had beenreturned was that Master Richard Birkenholt was ill at ease, but wouldhave masses said for his brother's soul. " "Hem?" said the Augustinian ominously; but at that moment they came upwith the sheep, and his attention was wholly absorbed by them, as hejoined the lay brothers in directing the shepherds who were driving themacross the downs, steering them over the high ground towards the archedWest Gate close to the royal castle. The street sloped rapidly down, and Brother Shoveller conducted his young companions between theoverhanging houses, with stalls between serving as shops, till theyreached the open space round the Market Cross, on the steps of whichwomen sat with baskets of eggs, butter, and poultry, raised above themotley throng of cattle and sheep, with their dogs and drivers, thevarious cries of man and beast forming an incongruous accompaniment tothe bells of the churches that surrounded the market-place. Citizens' wives in hood and wimple were there, shrilly bargaining forprovision for their households, squires and grooms in quest of hay fortheir masters' stables, purveyors seeking food for the garrison, laybrethren and sisters for their convents, and withal, the usual margin ofbegging friars, wandering gleemen, jugglers and pedlars, though in nogreat numbers, as this was only a Wednesday market-day, not a fair. Ambrose recognised one or two who made part of the crowd at Beaulieuonly two days previously, when he had "seen through tears the jugglerleap, " and the jingling tune one of them was playing on a rebeck broughtback associations of almost unbearable pain. Happily, Father Shoveller, having seen his sheep safely bestowed in a pen, bethought him of biddingthe lay brother in attendance show the young gentlemen the way to HydeAbbey, and turning up a street at right angles to the principal one, they were soon out of the throng. It was a lonely place, with a decayed uninhabited appearance, andBrother Peter told them it had been the Jewry, whence good King Edwardhad banished all the unbelieving dogs of Jews, and where no one chose todwell after them. Soon they came in sight of a large extent of monastic buildings, partlyof stone, but the more domestic offices of flint and brick or mortar. Large meadows stretched away to the banks of the Itchen, with cattlegrazing in them, but in one was a set of figures to whom the lay brotherpointed with a laugh of exulting censure. "Long bows!" exclaimed Stephen. "Who be they?" "Brethren of Saint Grimbald, sir. Such rule doth my Lord of Hyde keep, mitred abbot though he be. They say the good bishop hath called him toorder, but what recks he of bishops? Good-day, Brother Bulpett, here betwo young kinsmen of Master Birkenholt to visit him; and so_benedicite_, fair sirs. Saint Austin's grace be with you!" Through a gate between two little red octagonal towers, Brother Bulpettled the two visitors, and called to another of the monks, "_Benedicite_, Father Segrim, here be two striplings wanting speech of old Birkenholt. " "Looking after dead men's shoes, I trow, " muttered Father Segrim, with asour look at the lads, as he led them through the outer court, wheresome fine horses were being groomed, and then across a second courtsurrounded with a beautiful cloister, with flower beds in front of it. Here, on a stone bench, in the sun, clad in a gown furred with rabbitskin, sat a decrepit old man, both his hands clasped over his staff. Into his deaf ears their guide shouted, "These boys say they are yourkindred, Master Birkenholt. " "Anan?" said the old man, trembling with palsy. The lads knew him to beolder than their father, but they were taken by surprise at suchfeebleness, and the monk did not aid them, only saying roughly, "Therehe is. Tell your errand. " "How fares it with you, uncle?" ventured Ambrose. "Who be ye? I know none of you, " muttered the old man, shaking his headstill more. "We are Ambrose and Stephen from the Forest, " shouted Ambrose. "Ah Steve! poor Stevie! The accursed boar has rent his goodly face soas I would never have known him. Poor Steve! Rest his soul!" The old man began to weep, while his nephews recollected that they hadheard that another uncle had been slain by the tusk of a wild boar inearly manhood. Then to their surprise, his eyes fell on Spring, andcalling the hound by name, he caressed the creature's head--"Spring, poor Spring! Stevie's faithful old dog. Hast lost thy master? Wiltfollow me now?" He was thinking of a Spring as well as of a Stevie of sixty years ago, and he babbled on of how many fawns were in the Queen's Bower thissummer, and who had best shot at the butts at Lyndhurst, as if he wereexcited by the breath of his native Forest, but there was no making himunderstand that he was speaking with his nephews. The name of hisbrother John only set him repeating that John loved the greenwood, andwould be content to take poor Stevie's place and dwell in the verdurer'slodge; but that he himself ought to be abroad, he had seen brave LordTalbot's ships ready at Southampton, John might stay at home, but hewould win fame and honour in Gascony. And while he thus wandered, and the boys stood by perplexed anddistressed, Brother Segrim came back, and said, "So, young sirs, haveyou seen enough of your doting kinsman? The sub-prior bids me say thatwe harbour no strange, idling, lubber lads nor strange dogs here. 'Tisenough for us to be saddled with dissolute old men-at-arms without alltheir idle kin making an excuse to come and pay their devoirs. Thesecorrodies are a heavy charge and a weighty abuse, and if there be thevisitation the king's majesty speaks of they will be one of the firstmatters to be amended. " Wherewith Stephen and Ambrose found themselves walked out of thecloister of Saint Grimbald, and the gates shut behind them. CHAPTER THREE. KINSMEN AND STRANGERS. "The reul of Saint Maure and of Saint Beneit Because that it was old and some deale streit This ilke monk let old things pace He held ever of the new world the trace. " Chaucer. "The churls!" exclaimed Stephen. "Poor old man!" said Ambrose; "I hope they are good to him!" "To think that thus ends all that once was gallant talk of fightingunder Talbot's banner, " sighed Stephen, thoughtful for a moment. "However, there's a good deal to come first. " "Yea, and what next?" said the elder brother. "On to uncle Hal. I ever looked most to him. He will purvey me to apage's place in some noble household, and get thee a clerk's orscholar's place in my Lord of York's house. Mayhap there will be roomfor us both there, for my Lord of York hath a goodly following of armedmen. " "Which way lies the road to London?" "We must back into the town and ask, as well as fill our stomachs andour wallets, " said Ambrose. "Talk of their rule! The entertaining ofstrangers is better understood at Silkstede than at Hyde. " "Tush! A grudged crust sticks in the gullet, " returned Stephen. "Comeon, Ambrose, I marked the sign of the White Hart by the market-place. There will be a welcome there for foresters. " They returned on their steps past the dilapidated buildings of the oldJewry, and presently saw the market in full activity; but the sounds andsights of busy life where they were utter strangers, gave Ambrose asense of loneliness and desertion, and his heart sank as the bolderStephen threaded the way in the direction of a broad entry over whichstood a slender-bodied hart with gold hoofs, horns, collar, and chain. "How now, my sons?" said a full cheery voice, and to their joy, theyfound themselves pushed up against Father Shoveller. "Returned already! Did you get scant welcome at Hyde? Here, come wherewe can get a free breath, and tell me. " They passed through the open gateway of the White Hart, into the court, but before listening to them, the monk exchanged greetings with thehostess, who stood at the door in a broad hat and velvet bodice, anddemanded what cheer there was for noon-meat. "A jack, reverend sir, eels and a grampus fresh sent up from Hampton;also fresh-killed mutton for such lay folk as are not curious of theWednesday fast. They are laying the board even now. " "Lay platters for me and these two young gentlemen, " said theAugustinian. "Ye be my guests, ye wot, " he added, "since ye tarried notfor meat at Hyde. " "Nor did they ask us, " exclaimed Stephen; "lubbers and idlers were thebest words they had for us. " "Ho! ho! That's the way with the brethren of Saint Grimbald! And youruncle?" "Alas, sir, he doteth with age, " said Ambrose. "He took Stephen for hisown brother, dead under King Harry of Windsor. " "So! I had heard somewhat of his age and sickness. Who was it whothrust you out?" "A lean brother with a thin red beard, and a shrewd, puckered visage. " "Ha! By that token 'twas Segrim the bursar. He wots how to drive abargain. Saint Austin! but he deemed you came to look after yourkinsman's corrody. " "He said the king spake of a visitation to abolish corrodies fromreligious houses, " said Ambrose. "He'll abolish the long bow from them first, " said Father Shoveller. "Ay, and miniver from my Lord Abbot's hood. I'd admonish you, my goodbrethren of Saint Grimbald, to be in no hurry for a visitation whichmight scarce stop where you would fain have it. Well, my sons, are yebound for the Forest again? An ye be, we'll wend back together, and yecan lie at Silkstede to-night. " "Alack, kind father, there's no more home for us in the Forest, " saidAmbrose. "Methought ye had a brother?" "Yea; but our brother hath a wife. " "Ho! ho! And the wife will none of you?" "She would have kept Ambrose to teach her boy his primer, " said Stephen;"but she would none of Spring nor of me. " "We hoped to receive counsel from our uncle at Hyde, " added Ambrose. "Have ye no purpose now?" inquired the Father, his jolly good-humouredface showing much concern. "Yea, " manfully returned Stephen. "'Twas what I ever hoped to do, tofare on and seek our fortune in London. " "Ha! To pick up gold and silver like Dick Whittington. Poor old Springhere will scarce do you the part of his cat, " and the monk's heartylaugh angered Stephen into muttering, "We are no fools, " but FatherShoveller only laughed the more, saying, "Fair and softly, my son, ye'llnever pick up the gold if ye cannot brook a kindly quip. Have youfriends or kindred in London?" "Yea, that have we, sir, " cried Stephen; "our mother's own brother, Master Randall, hath come to preferment there in my Lord Archbishop ofYork's household, and hath sent us tokens from time to time, which wewill show you. " "Not while we be feasting, " said Father Shoveller, hastily checkingAmbrose, who was feeling in his bosom. "See, the knaves be bringingtheir grampus across the court. Here, we'll clean our hands, and beready for the meal;" and he showed them, under a projecting gallery inthe inn yard a stone trough, through which flowed a stream of water, inwhich he proceeded to wash his hands and face, and to wipe them in acoarse towel suspended nigh at hand. Certainly after handling sheepfreely there was need, though such ablutions were a refinement notindulged in by all the company who assembled round the well-spread boardof the White Hart for the meal after the market. They were a motleycompany. By the host's side sat a knight on his way home frompilgrimage to Compostella, or perhaps a mission to Spain, with a coupleof squires and other attendants, and converse of political import seemedto be passing between him and a shrewd-looking man in a lawyer's hoodand gown, the recorder of Winchester, who preferred being a daily guestat the White Hart to keeping a table of his own. Country franklins andyeomen, merchants and men-at-arms, palmers and craftsmen, friars andmonks, black, white, and grey, and with almost all, Father Shoveller hadgreeting or converse to exchange. He knew everybody, and had friendlytalk with all, on canons or crops, on war or wool, on the prices of pigsor prisoners, on the news of the country side, or on the perilousinnovations in learning at Oxford, which might, it was feared, evenaffect Saint Mary's College at Winchester. He did not affect outlandish fishes himself, and dined upon pike, butobserving the curiosity of his guests, he took good care to have themwell supplied with grampus; also in due time with varieties of thepudding and cake kind which had never dawned on their forest--bredimagination, and with a due proportion of good ale--the same over whichthe knight might be heard rejoicing, and lauding far above the Spanishor French wines, on which he said he had been half starved. Father Shoveller mused a good deal over his pike and its savourystuffing. He was not by any means an ideal monk, but he was equally farfrom being a scandal. He was the shrewd man of business and manager ofhis fraternity, conducting the farming operations and making all thebargains, following his rule respectably according to the ordinarystandard of his time, but not rising to any spirituality, and while dulyobserving the fast day, as to the quality of his food, eating with theappetite of a man who lived in the open fields. But when their hunger was appeased, with many a fragment given toSpring, the young Birkenholts, wearied of the endless talk that wasexchanged over the tankard, began to grow restless, and after exchangingsigns across Father Shoveller's solid person, they simultaneously rose, and began to thank him and say they must pursue their journey. "How now, not so fast, my sons, " said the Father; "tarry a bit, I havemore to say to thee. Prayers and provender, thou knowst--I'll comeanon. So, sir, didst say yonder beggarly Flemings haggle at thy pricefor thy Southdown fleeces. Weight of dirt forsooth! Do not we wash thesheep in the Poolhole stream, the purest water in the shire?" Manners withheld Ambrose from responding to Stephen's hot impatience, while the merchant in the sleek puce-coloured coat discussed the Flemishwool market with the monk for a good half-hour longer. By this time the knight's horses were brought into the yard, and themerchant's men had made ready his palfrey, his pack-horse being alreadyon the way; the host's son came round with the reckoning, and there wasa general move. Stephen expected to escape, and hardly could brook thegood-natured authority with which Father Shoveller put Ambrose aside, when he would have discharged their share of the reckoning, and took itupon himself. "Said I not ye were my guests?" quoth he. "We missed ourmorning mass, it will do us no harm to hear Nones in the Minster. " "Sir, we thank you, but we should be on our way, " said Ambrose, incitedby Stephen's impatient gestures. "Tut, tut. Fair and softly, my son, or more haste may be worse speed. Methought ye had somewhat to show me. " Stephen's youthful independence might chafe, but the habit of submissionto authorities made him obediently follow the monk out at the backentrance of the inn, behind which lay the Minster yard, the grandwestern front rising in front of them, and the buildings of SaintSwithun's Abbey extending far to their right. The hour was nearly noon, and the space was deserted, except for an old woman sitting at the greatwestern doorway with a basket of rosaries made of nuts and of snailshells, and a workman or two employed on the bishop's new reredos. "Now for thy tokens, " said Father Shoveller. "See my young foresters, ye be new to the world. Take an old man's counsel, and never show, norspeak of such gear in an hostel. Mine host of the White Hart is an oldgossip of mine, and indifferent honest, but who shall say who might bewithin earshot?" Stephen had a mind to say that he did not see why the meddling monkshould wish to see them at all, and Ambrose looked a little reluctant, but Father Shoveller said in his good-humoured way, "As you please, young sirs. 'Tis but an old man's wish to see whether he can do aughtto help you, that you be not as lambs among wolves. Mayhap ye deem yecan walk into London town, and that the first man you meet can point youto your uncle--Randall call ye him?--as readily as I could show you mybrother, Thomas Shoveller of Cranbury. But you are just as like to meetwith some knave who might cozen you of all you have, or mayhap a beadlemight take you up for vagabonds, and thrust you in the stocks, or everyou get to London town; so I would fain give you some commendation, an Iknew to whom to make it, and ye be not too proud to take it. " "You are but too good to us, sir, " said Ambrose, quite conquered, thoughStephen only half believed in the difficulties. The Father took themwithin the west door of the Minster, and looking up and down the longarcade of the southern aisle to see that no one was watching, heinspected the tokens, and cross-examined them on their knowledge oftheir uncle. His latest gift, the rosary, had come by the hand of Friar Hurst, abegging Minorite of Southampton, who had it from another of his order atWinchester, who had received it from one of the king's archers at theCastle, with a message to Mistress Birkenholt that it came from herbrother, Master Randall, who had good preferment in London, in the houseof my Lord Archbishop of York, without whose counsel King Henry neverstirred. As to the coming of the agate and the pouncet box, the mindsof the boys were very hazy. They knew that the pouncet box had beenconveyed through the attendants of the Abbot of Beaulieu, but they wereonly sure that from that time the belief had prevailed with their motherthat her brother was prospering in the house of the all-powerful Wolsey. The good Augustinian, examining the tokens, thought they gave colour tothat opinion. The rosary and agate might have been picked up in anecclesiastical household, and the lid of the pouncet box was made of aSpanish coin, likely to have come through some of the attendants ofQueen Katharine. "It hath an appearance, " he said. "I marvel whether there be still atthe Castle this archer who hath had speech with Master Randall, for ifye know no more than ye do at present, 'tis seeking a needle in a bottleof hay. But see, here come the brethren that be to sing Nones--sinnerthat I am, to have said no Hours since the morn, being letted withlawful business. " Again the unwilling Stephen had to submit. There was no feeling for theincongruous in those days, and reverence took very different directionsfrom those in which it now shows itself, so that nobody had anyobjection to Spring's pacing gravely with the others towards the LadyChapel, where the Hours were sung, since the Choir was in the hands ofworkmen, and the sound of chipping stone could be heard from it, whereBishop Fox's elaborate lace-work reredos was in course of erection. Passing the shrine of Saint Swithun, and the grand tomb of CardinalBeaufort, where his life-coloured effigy filled the boys with wonder, they followed their leader's example, and knelt within the Lady Chapel, while the brief Latin service for the ninth hour was sung through by thecanon, clerks, and boys. It really was the Sixth, but cumulative easy-going treatment of the Breviary had made this the usual time for it, asthe name of noon still testifies. The boys' attention, it must beconfessed, was chiefly expended on the wonderful miracles of the BlessedVirgin in fresco on the walls of the chapel, all tending to prove thathere was hope for those who said their Ave in any extremity of fire orflood. Nones ended, Father Shoveller, with many a halt for greeting or forgossip, took the lads up the hill towards the wide fortified space wherethe old Castle and royal Hall of Henry of Winchester looked down on thecity, and after some friendly passages with the warder at the gate, Father Shoveller explained that he was in quest of some one recentlycome from court, of whom the striplings in his company could makeinquiry concerning a kinsman in the household of my Lord Archbishop ofYork. The warder scratched his head, and bethinking himself thatEastcheap Jockey was the reverend father's man, summoned a horse-boy tocall that worthy. "Where was he?" "Sitting over his pottle in the Hall, " was the reply, and the monk, witha laugh savouring little of asceticism, said he would seek him there, and accordingly crossed the court to the noble Hall, with its lofty darkmarble columns, and the Round Table of King Arthur suspended at theupper end. The governor of the Castle had risen from his meal long ago, but the garrison in the piping times of peace would make their ration ofale last as far into the afternoon as their commanders would suffer. And half a dozen men still sat there, one or two snoring, two playing atdice on a clear corner of the board, and another, a smart well-dressedfellow in a bright scarlet jerkin, laying down the law to a countrybumpkin, who looked somewhat dazed. The first of these was, as itappeared, Eastcheap Jockey, and there was something both of thereadiness and the impudence of the Londoner in his manner, when heturned to answer the question. He knew many in my Lord of York'shouse--as many as a man was like to know where there was a matter of twohundred folk between clerks and soldiers, he had often crushed a pottlewith them. No; he had never heard of one called Randall, neither in hatnor cowl, but he knew more of them by face than by name, and more by byname than surname or christened name. He was certainly not the archerwho had brought a token for Mistress Birkenholt, and his comrades allavouched equal ignorance on the subject. Nothing could be gained there, and while Father Shoveller rubbed his bald head in consideration, Stephen rose to take leave. "Look you here, my fair son, " said the monk. "Starting at this hour, though the days be long, you will not reach any safe halting place withdaylight, whereas by lying a night in this good city, you might reachAlton to-morrow, and there is a home where the name of Brother Shovellerwill win you free lodging and entertainment. " "And to-night, good Father?" inquired Ambrose. "That will I see to, if ye will follow me. " Stephen was devoured with impatience during the farewells in the Castle, but Ambrose represented that the good man was giving them much of histime, and that it would be unseemly and ungrateful to break from him. "What matter is it of his? And why should he make us lose a whole day?"grumbled Stephen. "What special gain would a day be to us?" sighed Ambrose. "I amthankful that any should take heed for us. " "Ay, you love leading-strings, " returned Stephen. "Where is he goingnow? All out of our way!" Father Shoveller, however, as he went down the Castle hill, explainedthat the Warden of Saint Elizabeth's Hospital was his friend, andknowing him to have acquaintance among the clergy of Saint Paul's, itwould be well to obtain a letter of commendation from him, which mightserve them in good stead in case they were disappointed of finding theiruncle at once. "It would be better for Spring to have a little more rest, " thoughtStephen, thus mitigating his own longing to escape from the monks andfriars, of whom Winchester seemed to be full. They had a kindly welcome in the pretty little college of SaintElizabeth of Hungary, lying in the meadows between William of Wykeham'sCollege and the round hill of Saint Catherine. The Warden was a morescholarly and ecclesiastical-looking person than his friend, the good-natured Augustinian. After commending them to his care, and partakingof a drink of mead, the monk of Silkstede took leave of the youths, witha hearty blessing and advice to husband their few crowns, not to tellevery one of their tokens, and to follow the counsel of the Warden ofSaint Elizabeth's, assuring them that if they turned back to the Forestthey should have a welcome at Silkstede. Moreover he patted Springpitifully, and wished him and his master well through the journey. Saint Elizabeth's College was a hundred years older than its neighbourSaint Mary's, as was evident to practised eyes by its arches andwindows, but it had been so entirely eclipsed by Wykeham's foundationthat the number of priests, students, and choir-boys it was intended tomaintain, had dwindled away, so that it now contained merely the Warden, a superannuated priest, and a couple of big lads who acted as servants. There was an air of great quietude and coolness about the pointed archesof its tiny cloister on that summer's day, with the old monk dozing inhis chair over the manuscript he thought he was reading, not far fromthe little table where the Warden was eagerly studying Erasmus's _Praiseof Folly_. But the Birkenholts were of the age at which quiet meansdulness, at least Stephen was, and the Warden had pity both on them andon himself; and hearing joyous shouts outside, he opened a little doorin the cloister wall, and revealed a multitude of lads with their blackgowns tucked up, "a playing at the ball"--these being the scholars ofSaint Mary's. Beckoning to a pair of elder ones, who were walking upand down more quietly, he consigned the strangers to their care, sweetening the introduction by an invitation to supper, for which hewould gain permission from their Warden. One of the young Wykehamists was shy and churlish, and sheered off fromthe brothers, but the other catechised them on their views of becomingscholars in the college. He pointed out the cloister where the studiestook place in all weathers, showed them the hall, the chapel, and thechambers, and expatiated on the chances of attaining to New College. Being moreover a scholarly fellow, he and Ambrose fell into a discussionover the passage of Virgil, copied out on a bit of paper, which he waslearning by heart. Some other scholars having finished their game, andbecome aware of the presence of a strange dog and two strange boys, proceeded to mob Stephen and Spring, whereupon the shy boy stood forthand declared that the Warden of Saint Elizabeth's had brought them infor an hour's sport. Of course, in such close quarters, the rival Warden was esteemed anatural enemy, and went by the name of "Old Bess, " so that hisrecommendation went for worse than nothing, and a dash at Spring wasmade by the inhospitable young savages. Stephen stood to the defence inact to box, and the shy lad stood by him, calling for fair play and oneat a time. Of course a fight ensued, Stephen and his champion on theone side, and two assailants on the other, till after a fall on eitherside, Ambrose's friend interfered with a voice as thundering as themanly crack would permit, peace was restored, Stephen found himself freeof the meads, and Spring was caressed instead of being tormented. Stephen was examined on his past present, and future, envied for hisForest home, and beguiled into magnificent accounts, not only of thedeer that had fallen to his bow and the boars that had fallen to hisfather's spear, but of the honours to which his uncle in theArchbishop's household would prefer him--for he viewed it as an absolutecertainty that his kinsman was captain among the men-at-arms, whom heendowed on the spot with scarlet coats faced with black velvet, andsilver medals and chains. Whereat one of the other boys was not behind in telling how his fatherwas pursuivant to my Lord Duke of Norfolk, and never went abroad savewith silver lions broidered on back and breast, and trumpets goingbefore; and another dwelt on the splendours of the mayor and aldermen ofSouthampton with their chains and cups of gold. Stephen felt bound tosurpass this with the last report that my Lord of York's men rodeFlemish steeds in crimson velvet housings, passmented with gold andgems, and of course his uncle had the leading of them. "Who be thine uncle?" demanded a thin, squeaky voice. "I have brotherslikewise in my Lord of York's meine. " "Mine uncle is Captain Harry Randall, of Shirley, " quoth Stephenmagnificently, scornfully surveying the small proportions of thespeaker. "What is thy brother?" "Head turnspit, " said a rude voice, provoking a general shout oflaughter; but the boy stood his ground, and said hotly: "He is page tothe comptroller of my lord's household, and waits at the second table, and I know every one of the captains. " "He'll say next he knows every one of the Seven Worthies, " cried anotherboy, for Stephen was becoming a popular character. "And all the paladins to boot. Come on, little Rowley!" was the cry. "I tell you my brother is page to the comptroller of the household, andmy mother dwells beside the Gate House, and I know every man of them, "insisted Rowley, waxing hot. "As for that Forest savage fellow's unclebeing captain of the guard, 'tis more like that he is my lord's fool, Quipsome Hal!" Whereat there was a cry, in which were blended exultation at the hit, and vituperation of the hitter. Stephen flew forward to avenge theinsult, but a big bell was beginning to ring, a whole wave of blackgowns rushed to obey it, sweeping little Rowley away with them; andStephen found himself left alone with his brother and the two lads whohad been invited to Saint Elizabeth's, and who now repaired thither withthem. The supper party in the refectory was a small one, and the rule of thefoundation limited the meal to one dish and a pittance, but the dish wasof savoury eels, and the Warden's good nature had added to it some catesand comfits in consideration of his youthful guests. After some conversation with the elder Wykehamist, the Warden calledAmbrose and put him through an examination on his attainments, whichproved so satis factory, that it ended in an invitation to the brothersto fill two of the empty scholarships of the college of the dear SaintElizabeth. It was a good offer, and one that Ambrose would fain haveaccepted, but Stephen had no mind for the cloister or for learning. The Warden had no doubt that he could be apprenticed in the city ofWinchester, since the brother at home had in keeping a sum sufficientfor the fee. Though the trade of "capping" had fallen off, there werestill good substantial burgesses who would be willing to receive anactive lad of good parentage, some being themselves of gentle blood. Stephen, however, would not brook the idea. "Out upon you, Ambrose!"said he, "to desire to bind your own brother to base mechanical arts. " "'Tis what Nurse Joan held to be best for us both, " said Ambrose. "Joan! Yea, like a woman, who deems a man safest when he is a tailor, or a perfumer. An you be minded to stay here with a black gown and ashaven crown, I shall on with Spring and come to preferment. Maybethou'lt next hear of me when I have got some fat canonry for thee. " "Nay, I quit thee not, " said Ambrose. "If thou fare forward, so do I. But I would thou couldst have brought thy mind to rest there. " "What! wouldst thou be content with this worn-out place, with morechurches than houses, and more empty houses than full ones? No! let uson where there is something doing! Thou wilt see that my Lord of Yorkwill have room for the scholar as well as the man-at-arms. " So the kind offer was declined, but Ambrose was grieved to see that theWarden thought him foolish, and perhaps ungrateful. Nevertheless the good man gave them a letter to the Reverend MasterAlworthy, singing clerk at Saint Paul's Cathedral, telling Ambrose itmight serve them in case they failed to find their uncle, or if my Lordof York's household should not be in town. He likewise gave them arecommendation which would procure them a night's lodging at the Grange, and after the morning's mass and meat, sped them on their way with hisblessing, muttering to himself, "That elder one might have been thestaff of mine age! Pity on him to be lost in the great and evil City!Yet 'tis a good lad to follow that fiery spark his brother. _Tanquamagnus inter lupes_. Alack!" CHAPTER FOUR. A HERO'S FALL. "These four came all afront and mainly made at me. I made no more ado, but took their seven points on my target--thus--" Shakespeare. The journey to Alton was eventless. It was slow, for the day was abroiling one, and the young foresters missed their oaks and beeches, asthey toiled over the chalk downs that rose and sank in endlesssuccession; though they would hardly have slackened their pace if it hadnot been for poor old Spring, who was sorely distressed by the heat andthe want of water on the downs. Every now and then he lay down, pantingdistressfully, with his tongue hanging out, and his young masters alwayswaited for him, often themselves not sorry to rest in the fragment ofshade from a solitary thorn or juniper. The track was plain enough, and there were hamlets at long intervals. Flocks of sheep fed on the short grass, but there was no approaching theshepherds, as they and their dogs regarded Spring as an enemy, to bereceived with clamour, stones, and teeth, in spite of the dejected lookswhich might have acquitted him of evil intentions. The travellers reached Alton in the cool of the evening, and were kindlyreceived by a monk, who had charge of a grange just outside the littletown, near one of the springs of the River Wey. The next day's journey was a pleasanter one, for there was more of woodand heather, and they had to skirt round the marshy borders of variousbogs. Spring was happier, being able to stop and lap whenever he would, and the whole scene was less unfriendly to them. But they scarcely madespeed enough, for they were still among tall whins and stiff scrub ofheather when the sun began to get low, gorgeously lighting the tallplumes of golden broom, and they had their doubts whether they might notbe off the track; but in such weather, there was nothing alarming inspending a night out of doors, if only they had something for supper. Stephen took a bolt from the purse at his girdle, and bent his crossbow, so as to be ready in case a rabbit sprang out, or a duck flew up fromthe marshes. A small thicket of trees was in sight, and they were making for it, whensounds of angry voices were heard, and Spring, bristling up the mane onhis neck, and giving a few premonitory fierce growls like thunder, bounded forward as though he had been seven years younger. Stephendarted after him, Ambrose rushed after Stephen, and breaking through thetrees, they beheld the dog at the throat of one of three men. As theycame on the scene, the dog was torn down and hurled aside, giving a howlof agony, which infuriated his master. Letting fly his crossbow boltfull at the fellow's face, he dashed on, reckless of odds, waving hisknotted stick, and shouting with rage. Ambrose, though more aware ofthe madness of such an assault, still hurried to his support, and wasamazed as well as relieved to find the charge effectual. Withoutwaiting to return a blow, the miscreants took to their heels, andStephen, seeing nothing but his dog, dropped on his knees beside thequivering creature, from whose neck blood was fast pouring. One glanceof the faithful wistful eyes, one feeble movement of the expressivetail, and Spring had made his last farewell! That was all Stephen wasconscious of; but Ambrose could hear the cry, "Good sirs, good lads, setme free!" and was aware of a portly form bound to a tree. As he cut therope with his knife, the rescued traveller hurried out thanks anddemands--"Where are the rest of you?" and on the reply that there wereno more, proceeded, "Then we must on, on at once, or the villains willreturn! They must have thought you had a band of hunters behind you. Two furlongs hence, and we shall be safe in the hostel at Dogmersfield. Come on, my boy, " to Stephen, "the brave hound is quite dead, more's thepity. Thou canst do no more for him, and we shall soon be in his caseif we dally here. " "I cannot cannot leave him thus, " sobbed Stephen, who had the loving oldhead on his knees. "Ambrose! stay, we must bring him. There, his tailwagged! If the blood were staunched--" "Stephen! Indeed he is stone dead! Were he our brother we could not dootherwise, " reasoned Ambrose, forcibly dragging his brother to his feet. "Go on we must. Wouldst have us all slaughtered for his sake? Come!The rogues will be upon us anon. Spring saved this good man's life. Undo not his work. See. Is yonder your horse, sir? This way, Stevie!" The instinct of catching the horse roused Stephen, and it was soonaccomplished, for the steed was a plump, docile, city-bred palfrey, withdapple-grey flanks like well-stuffed satin pincushions, by no meansresembling the shaggy Forest ponies of the boys' experience, but quiteastray in the heath, and ready to come at the master's whistle; and callof "Soh Soh!--now Poppet!" Stephen caught the bridle, and Ambrosehelped the burgess into the saddle. "Now, good boys, " he said, "each ofyou lay a hand on my pommel. We can make good speed ere the rascalsfind out our scant numbers. " "You would make better speed without us, sir, " said Stephen, hankeringto remain beside poor Spring. "Eye think Giles Headley the man to leave two children, that have maybesaved my life as well as my purse, to bear the malice of the robbers?"demanded the burgess angrily. "That were like those fellows of mine whohave shown their heels and left their master strapped to a tree! Thou!thou! what's thy name, that hast the most wit, bring thy brother, unlessthou wouldst have him laid by the side of his dog. " Stephen was forced to comply, and run by Poppet's side, though his eyeswere so full of tears that he could not see his way, even when the paceslackened, and in the twilight they found themselves among houses andgardens, and thus in safety, the lights of an inn shining not far off. A figure came out in the road to meet them, crying, "Master! master! isit you? and without scathe? Oh, the saints be praised!" "Ay, Tibble, 'tis I and no other, thanks to the saints and to thesebrave lads! What, man, I blame thee not, I know thou canst not strike;but where be the rest?" "In the inn, sir. I strove to call up the hue and cry to come to therescue, but the cowardly hinds were afraid of the thieves, and not onewould come forth. " "I wish they may not be in league with them, " said Master Headley. "See! I was delivered--ay, and in time to save my purse, by these twainand their good dog. Are ye from these parts, my fair lads?" "We be journeying from the New Forest to London, " said Ambrose. "Thepoor dog heard the tumult, and leapt to your aid, sir, and we made afterhim. " "'Twas the saints sent him!" was the fervent answer. "And, " (with a lifting of the cap), "I hereby vow to Saint Julian ahound of solid bronze a foot in length, with a collar of silver, to hisshrine in Saint Faith's, in token of my deliverance in body and goods!To London are ye bound? Then will we journey on together!" They were by this time near the porch of a large country hostel, fromthe doors and large bay window of which light streamed out. And as thecasement was open, those without could both see and hear all that waspassing within. The table was laid for supper, and in the place of honour sat a youth ofsome seventeen or eighteen years, gaily dressed, with a little feathercurling over his crimson cap, and thus discoursing:-- "Yea, my good host, two of the rogues bear my tokens, besides him whom Ifelled to the earth. He came on at me with his sword, but I had mypoint ready for him; and down he went before me like an ox. Then cameon another, but him I dealt with by the back stroke as used in the tilt-yard at Clarendon. " "I trow we shall know him again, sir. Holy saints to think such rascalsshould haunt so nigh us, " the hostess was exclaiming. "Pity for thepoor goodman, Master Headley. A portly burgher was he, friendly oftongue and free of purse. I well remember him when he went forth on hisway to Salisbury, little thinking, poor soul, what was before him. Andis he truly sped?" "I tell thee, good woman, I saw him go down before three of their pikes. What more could I do but drive my horse over the nearest rogue who wasrifling him?" "If he were still alive--which Our Lady grant!--the knaves will hold himto ransom, " quoth the host, as he placed a tankard on the table. "I am afraid he is past, " said the youth, shaking his head. "But an ifhe be still in the rogues' hands and living, I will get me on to hishouse in Cheapside, and arrange with his mother to find the needful sum, as befits me, I being his heir and about to wed his daughter. However, I shall do all that in me lies to get the poor old seignior out of thehands of the rogues. Saints defend me!" "The poor old seignior is much beholden to thee, " said Master Headley, advancing amid a clamour of exclamations from three or four serving-menor grooms, one protesting that he thought his master was with him, another that his horse ran away with him, one showing an arm which wasactually being bound up, and the youth declaring that he rode off tobring help. "Well wast thou bringing it, " Master Headley answered. "I might bestill standing bound like an eagle displayed, against yonder tree, foraught you fellows reeked. " "Nay, sir, the odds--" began the youth. "Odds! such odds as were put to rout--by what, deem you? These twostriplings and one poor hound. Had but one of you had the heart of asparrow, ye had not furnished a tale to be the laugh of the Barbican andCheapside. Look well at them. How old be you, my brave lads?" "I shall be sixteen come Lammas day, and Stephen fifteen at Martinmasday, sir, " said Ambrose; "but verily we did nought. We could have donenought had not the thieves thought more were behind us. " "There are odds between going forward and backward, " said MasterHeadley, dryly. "Ha! Art hurt? Thou bleedst, " he exclaimed, layinghis hand on Stephen's shoulder, and drawing him to the light. "'Tis no blood of mine, " said Stephen, as Ambrose likewise came to joinin the examination. "It is my poor Spring's. He took the coward'sblow. His was all the honour, and we have left him there on the heath!"And he covered his face with his hands. "Come, come, my good child, " said Master Headley; "we will back to theplace by times to-morrow when rogues hide and honest men walk abroad. Thou shalt bury thine hound, as befits a good warrior, on the battle-field. I would fain mark his points for the effigy we will frame, honest Tibble, for Saint Julian. And mark ye, fellows, thou godsonGiles, above all, who 'tis that boast of their valour, and who 'tis thatbe modest of speech. Yea, thanks, mine host. Let us to a chamber, andgive us water to wash away soil of travel and of fray, and then tosupper. Young masters, ye are my guests. Shame were it that GilesHeadley let go farther them that have, under Heaven and Saint Julian, saved him in life, limb, and purse. " The inn was large, being the resort of many travellers from the south, often of nobles and knights riding to Parliament, and thus the brothersfound themselves accommodated with a chamber, where they could preparefor the meal, while Ambrose tried to console his brother by representingthat, after all, poor Spring had died gallantly, and with far less painthan if he had suffered a wasting old age, besides being honoured forever by his effigy in Saint Faith's, wherever that might be, the ideawhich chiefly contributed to console his master. The two boys appeared in the room of the inn looking so unlike thedusty, blood-stained pair who had entered, that Master Headley took asecond glance to convince himself that they were the same, beforebeckoning them to seats on either side of him, saying that he must knowmore of them, and bidding the host load their trenchers well from thegrand fabric of beef-pasty which had been set at the end of the board. The runaways, four or five in number, herded together lower down, with afew travellers of lower degree, all except the youth who had beenboasting before their arrival, and who retained his seat at the board, thumping it with the handle of his knife to show his impatience for thecommencement of supper; and not far off sat Tibble, the same who hadhailed their arrival, a thin, slight, one-sided looking person, with aterrible red withered scar on one cheek, drawing the corner of his mouthawry. He, like Master Headley himself, and the rest of his party wereclad in red, guarded with white, and wore the cross of Saint George onthe white border of their flat crimson caps, being no doubt in thelivery of their Company. The citizen himself, having in the meantimedrawn his conclusions from the air and gestures of the brothers, andtheir mode of dealing with their food, asked the usual question in anaffirmative tone, "Ye be of gentle blood, young sirs?" To which they replied by giving their names, and explaining that theywere journeying from the New Forest to find their uncle in the train ofthe Archbishop of York. "Birkenholt, " said Tibble, meditatively. "He beareth vert, a buck'shead proper, on a chief argent, two arrows in saltire. Crest, a buckcourant, pierced in the gorge by an arrow, all proper. " To which the brothers returned by displaying the handles of theirknives, both of which bore the pierced and courant buck. "Ay, ay, " said the man. "'Twill be found in our books, sir. We paintedthe shield and new-crested the morion the first year of my prenticeship, when the Earl of Richmond, the late King Harry of blessed memory, hadnewly landed at Milford Haven. " "Verily, " said Ambrose, "our uncle Richard Birkenholt fought at Bosworthunder Sir Richard Pole's banner. " "A tall and stalwart esquire, methinks, " said Master Headley. "Is hethe kinsman you seek?" "Not so, sir. We visited him at Winchester, and found him sorely oldand with failing wits. We be on our way to our mother's brother, MasterHarry Randall. " "Is he clerk or layman? My Lord of York entertaineth enow of both, "said Master Headley. "Lay assuredly, sir, " returned Stephen; "I trust to him to find me somepreferment as page or the like. " "Know'st thou the man, Tibble?" inquired the master. "Not among the men-at-arms, sir, " was the answer; "but there be a manyof them whose right names we never hear. However, he will be easilyfound if my Lord of York be returned from Windsor with his train. " "Then will we go forward together, my young Masters Birkenholt. I amnot going to part with my doughty champions!"--patting Stephen'sshoulder. "Ye'd not think that these light-heeled knaves belonged tothe brave craft of armourers. " "Certainly not, " thought the lads, whose notion of armourers was derivedfrom the brawny blacksmith of Lyndhurst, who sharpened their boar spearsand shod their horses. They made some kind of assent, and MasterHeadley went on. "These be the times. This is what peace hath broughtus to! I am called down to Salisbury to take charge of the goods, chattels, and estate of my kinsman, Robert Headley--Saints rest hissoul!--and to bring home yonder spark, my godson, whose indentures havebeen made over to me. And I may not ride a mile after sunset withoutbeing set upon by a sort of robbers, who must have guessed over-wellwhat a pack of cowards they had to deal with. " "Sir, " cried the younger Giles, "I swear to you that I struck right andleft. I did all that man could do, but these rogues of serving-men, they fled, and dragged me along with them, and I deemed you were of ourcompany till we dismounted. " "Did you so? Methought anon you saw me go down with three pikes in mybreast. Come, come, godson Giles, speech will not mend it! Thou artbut a green, town-bred lad, a mother's darling, and mayst be a brave manyet, only don't dread to tell the honest truth that you were afeard, asmany a better man might be. " The host chimed in with tales of the thieves and outlaws who then, andindeed for many later generations, infested Bagshot heath, and the wildmoorland tracks around. He seemed to think that the travellers had hada hair's-breadth escape, and that a few seconds' more delay might haverevealed the weakness of the rescuers and have been fatal to them. However there was no danger so near the village in the morning, and, somewhat to Stephen's annoyance, the whole place turned out to inspectthe spot, and behold the burial of poor Spring, who was found stretchedon the heather, just as he had been left the night before. He wasinterred under the stunted oak where Master Headley had been tied. While the grave was dug with a spade borrowed at the inn, Ambroseundertook to cut out the dog's name on the bark, but he had hardly madethe first incision when Tibble, the singed foreman, offered to do it forhim, and made a much more sightly inscription than he could have done. Master Headley's sword was found honourably broken under the tree, andwas reserved to form a base for his intended _ex voto_. He uttered thevow in due form like a funeral oration, when Stephen, with a swellingheart, had laid the companion of his life in the little grave, which wasspeedily covered in. CHAPTER FIVE. THE DRAGON COURT. "A citizen Of credit and renown A trainband captain eke was he Of famous London town. " Cowper. In spite of his satisfaction at the honourable obsequies of his dog, Stephen Birkenholt would fain have been independent, and thought itprovoking and strange that every one should want to direct hismovements, and assume the charge of one so well able to take care ofhimself; but he could not escape as he had done before from the Wardenof Saint Elizabeth, for Ambrose had readily accepted the proposal thatthey should travel in Master Headley's company, only objecting that theywere on foot; on which the good citizen hired a couple of hackneys forthem. Besides the two Giles Headleys, the party consisted of Tibble, thescarred and withered foreman, two grooms, and two serving-men, all armedwith the swords and bucklers of which they had made so little use. Itappeared in process of time that the two namesakes, besides beinggodfather and godson, were cousins, and that Robert, the father of theyounger one, had, after his apprenticeship in the paternal establishmentat Salisbury, served for a couple of years in the London workshop of hiskinsman to learn the latest improvements in weapons. This had laid thefoundation of a friendship which had lasted through life, though theLondon cousin had been as prosperous as the country one had been thereverse. The provincial trade in arms declined with the close of theYork and Lancaster wars. Men were not permitted to turn from onehandicraft to another, and Robert Headley had neither aptitude norresources. His wife was vain and thriftless, and he finally broke downunder his difficulties, appointing by will his cousin to act as hisexecutor, and to take charge of his only son, who had served out halfhis time as apprentice to himself. There had been delay until the peacewith France had given the armourer some leisure for an expedition toSalisbury, a serious undertaking for a London burgess, who had littleabout him of the ancient northern weapon-smith, and had wanted to availhimself of the protection of the suite of the Bishop of Salisbury, returning from Parliament. He had spent some weeks in disposing of hiscousin's stock in trade, which was far too antiquated for the Londonmarket; also of the premises, which were bought by an adjoining conventto extend its garden; and he had divided the proceeds between the widowand children. He had presided at the wedding of the last daughter, withwhom the mother was to reside, and was on his way back to London withhis godson, who had now become his apprentice. Giles Headley the younger was a fine tall youth, but clumsy anduntrained in the use of his limbs, and he rode a large, powerful brownhorse, which brooked no companionship, lashing out with its shaggy hoofsat any of its kind that approached it, more especially at poor, plump, mottled Poppet. The men said he had insisted on retaining that, and noother, for his journey to London, contrary to all advice, and he wasobliged to ride foremost, alone in the middle of the road; while MasterHeadley seemed to have an immense quantity of consultation to carry onwith his foreman, Tibble, whose quiet-looking brown animal was evidentlyon the best of terms with Poppet. By daylight Tibble looked even moresallow, lean, and sickly, and Stephen could not help saying to theserving-man nearest to him, "Can such a weakling verily be an armourer?" "Yea, sir. Wry-mouthed Tibble, as they call him, was a sturdy fellowtill he got a fall against the mouth of a furnace, and lay ten months inSaint Bartholomew's Spital, scarce moving hand or foot. He cannot wielda hammer, but he has a cunning hand for gilding, and coloured devices, and is as good as Garter-king-at-arms himself for all bearings ofknights and nobles. " "As we heard last night, " said Stephen. "Moreover in the spital he learnt to write and cast accompts like a veryscrivener, and the master trusts him more than any, except maybe KitSmallbones, the head smith. " "What will Smallbones think of the new prentice!" said one of the othermen. "Prentice! 'Tis plain enough what sort of prentice the youth is like tobe who beareth the name of a master with one only daughter. " An emphatic grunt was the only answer, while Ambrose pondered on thegood luck of some people, who had their futures cut out for them with notrouble on their own part. This day's ride was through more inhabited parts, and was esteemed lessperilous. They came in sight of the Thames at Lambeth, but MasterHeadley, remembering how ill his beloved Poppet had brooked the ferry, decided to keep to the south of the river by a causeway across Lambethmarsh, which was just passable in high and dry summers, and whichconducted them to a raised road called Bankside, where they lookedacross to the towers of Westminster, and the Abbey in its beauty dawnedon the imagination of Stephen and Ambrose. The royal standard floatedover the palace, whence Master Headley perceived that the King wasthere, and augured that my Lord of York's meine would not be far toseek. Then came broad green fields with young corn growing, or haywaving for the scythe, the tents and booths of May Fair, and thebeautiful Market Cross in the midst of the village of Charing, while theStrand, immediately opposite, began to be fringed with great monasterieswithin their ample gardens, with here and there a nobleman's castellatedhouse and terraced garden, with broad stone stairs leading to theThames. Barges and wherries plied up and down, the former often gaily canopiedand propelled by livened oarsmen, all plying their arms in unison, sothat the vessel looked like some brilliant many-limbed creature treadingthe water. Presently appeared the heavy walls inclosing the Cityitself, dominated by the tall openwork timber spire of Saint Paul's, with the four-square, four-turreted Tower acting, as it has been wellsaid, as a padlock to a chain, and the river's breadth spanned by Londonbridge, a very street of houses built on the abutments. Now, Banksidehad houses on each side of the road, and Wry-mouthed Tibble showedevident satisfaction when they turned to cross the bridge, where theyhad to ride in single file, not without some refractoriness on the partof young Headley's steed. On they went, now along streets where each story of the tall housesprojected over the last, so that the gables seemed ready to meet; nowbeside walls of convent gardens, now past churches, while the countrylads felt bewildered with the numbers passing to and fro, and the airwas full of bells. Cap after cap was lifted in greeting to Master Headley by burgess, artisan, or apprentice, and many times did he draw Poppet's rein toexchange greetings and receive congratulations on his return. Onreaching Saint Paul's Minster, he halted and bade the servants take homethe horses, and tell the mistress, with his dutiful greetings, that heshould be at home anon, and with guests. "We must een return thanks for our safe journey and great deliverance, "he said to his young companions, and thrusting his arm into that of arusset-vested citizen, who met him at the door, he walked into thecathedral, recounting his adventure. The youths followed with some difficulty through the stream of loiterersin the nave, Giles the younger elbowing and pushing so that several ofthe crowd turned to look at him, and it was well that his kinsman soonastonished him by descending a stair into a crypt, with solid, short, clustered columns, and high-pitched vaulting, fitted up as a separatechurch, namely that of the parish of Saint Faith. The great cathedral, having absorbed the site of the original church, had given this crypt tothe parishioners. Here all was quiet and solemn, in marked contrast tothe hubbub in "Paul's Walk, " above in the nave. Against the easternpillar of one of the bays was a little altar, and the decorationsincluded Saint Julian, the patron of travellers, with his saltire doublycrossed, and his stag beside him. Little ships, trees, and wonderfulenamelled representations of perils by robbers, field and flood, hungthickly on Saint Julian's pillar, and on the wall and splay of thewindow beside it; and here, after crossing himself, Master Headleyrapidly repeated a Paternoster, and ratified his vow of presenting abronze image of the hound to whom he owed his rescue. One of the clergycame up to register the vow, and the good armourer proceeded to bespeaka mass of thanksgiving on the next morning, also ten for the soul ofMaster John Birkenholt, late Verdurer of the New Forest in Hampshire--amode of showing his gratitude which the two sons highly appreciated. Then, climbing up the steps again, and emerging from the cathedral bythe west door, the boys beheld a scene for which their experiences ofRomsey, and even of Winchester, had by no means prepared them. It wasfive o'clock on a summer evening, so that the whole place was full ofstir. Old women sat with baskets of rosaries and little crosses, orimages of saints, on the steps of the cathedral, while in the open spacebeyond, more than one horse was displaying his paces for the benefit; ofsome undecided purchaser, who had been chaffering for hours in Paul'sWalk. Merchants in the costume of their countries, Lombard, Spanish, Dutch, or French, were walking away in pairs, attended by servants, fromtheir Exchange, likewise in the nave. Women, some alone, some protectedby serving-men or apprentices, were returning from their orisons, or, itmight be, from their gossipings. Priests and friars, as usual, pervadedeverything, and round the open space were galleried buildings withstalls beneath them, whence the holders were removing their wares forthe night. The great octagonal structure of Paul's Cross stood in thecentre, and just beneath the stone pulpit, where the sermons were wontto be preached, stood a man with a throng round him, declaiming a balladat the top of his sing-song voice, and causing much loud laughter bysome ribaldry about monks and friars. Master Headley turned aside as quickly as he could, through PaternosterRow, which was full of stalls, where little black books, and largersheets printed in black, letter, seemed the staple commodities, andthence the burgess, keeping a heedful eye on his young companions amongall his greetings, entered the broader space of Cheapside, wherenumerous prentice lads seemed to be playing at different sports afterthe labours of the day. Passing under an archway surmounted by a dragon with shining scales, Master Headley entered a paved courtyard, where the lads started at thefigures of two knights in full armour, their lances in rest, and theirhorses with housings down to their hoofs, apparently about to charge anyintruder. But at that moment there was a shriek of joy, and out fromthe scarlet and azure petticoats of the nearest steed, there darted alittle girl, crying, "Father! father!" and in an instant she was liftedin Master Headley's arms, and was clinging round his neck, while hekissed and blessed her, and as he set her on her feet, he said, "Here, Dennet, greet thy cousin Giles Headley, and these two brave younggentlemen. Greet them like a courteous maiden, or they will think theea little town mouse. " In truth the child had a pointed little visage, and bright brown eyes, somewhat like a mouse, but it was a very sweet face that she liftedobediently to be kissed not only by the kinsman, but by the two guests. Her father meantime was answering with nods to the respectful welcomesof the workmen, who thronged out below, and their wives looking downfrom the galleries above; while Poppet and the other horses were beingrubbed down after their journey. The ground-floor of the buildings surrounding the oblong court seemed tobe entirely occupied by forges, workshops, warehouses and stables. Above, were open railed galleries, with outside stairs at intervals, giving access to the habitations of the workpeople on three sides. Thefourth, opposite to the entrance, had a much handsomer, broad, stonestair, adorned on one side with a stone figure of the princess fleeingfrom the dragon, and on the other of Saint George piercing the monster'sopen mouth with his lance, the scaly convolutions of the two dragonsforming the supports of the handrail on either side. Here stood, cap inhand, showing his thick curly hair, and with open front, displaying ahuge hairy chest, a giant figure, whom his master greeted as KitSmallbones, inquiring whether all had gone well during his absence. "'Tis time you were back, sir, for there's a great tilting-match on handfor the Lady Mary's wedding. Here have been half the gentlemen in theCourt after you, and my Lord of Buckingham sent twice for you sinceSunday, and once for Tibble Steelman, and his squire swore that if youwere not at his bidding before noon to-morrow, he would have his newsuit of Master Hillyer of the Eagle. " "He shall see me when it suiteth me, " said Mr Headley coolly. "Hewotteth well that Hillyer hath none who can burnish plate armour likeTibble here. " "Moreover the last iron we had from that knave Mepham is nought. Itworks short under the hammer. " "That shall be seen to, Kit. The rest of the budget to-morrow. I muston to my mother. " For at the doorway, at the head of the stairs, there stood the stilltrim and active figure of an old woman, with something of the mouselikeness seen in her grand-daughter, in the close cap, high hat, andcloth dress, that sumptuary opinion, if not law, prescribed for theburgher matron, a white apron, silver chain and bunch of keys at hergirdle. Due and loving greetings passed between mother and son, afterthe longest and most perilous absence of Master Headley's life, and hethen presented Giles, to whom the kindly dame offered hand and cheek, saying, "Welcome, my young kinsman, your good father was well known andliked here. May you tread in his steps!" "Thanks, good mistress, " returned Giles. "I am thought to have a prettytaste in the fancy part of the trade. My Lord of Montagu--" Before he could get any farther, Mistress Headley was inquiring what wasthe rumour she had heard of robbers and dangers that had beset her son, and he was presenting the two young Birkenholts to her. "Brave boys!good boys, " she said, holding out her hands and kissing each accordingto the custom of welcome, "you have saved my son for me, and this littleone's father for her. Kiss them, Dennet, and thank them. " "It was the poor dog, " said the child, in a clear little voice, drawingback with a certain quaint coquetting shyness; "I would rather kisshim. " "Would that thou couldst, little mistress, " said Stephen. "My poorbrave Spring!" "Was he thine own? Tell me all about him, " said Dennet, somewhatimperiously. She stood between the two strangers looking eagerly in with sorrowfullyinterested eyes, while Stephen, out of his full heart, told of hisfaithful comradeship with his hound from the infancy of both. Herfather meanwhile was exchanging serious converse with her grandmother, and Giles finding himself left in the background, began: "Come hither, pretty coz, and I will tell thee of my Lady of Salisbury's dainty littlehounds. " "I care not for dainty little hounds, " returned Dennet; "I want to hearof the poor faithful dog that flew at the wicked robber. " "A mighty stir about a mere chance, " muttered Giles. "I know what _you_ did, " said Dennet, turning her bright brown eyes fullupon him. "You took to your heels. " Her look and little nod were so irresistibly comical that the twobrothers could not help laughing; whereupon Giles Headley turned uponthem in a passion. "What mean ye by this insolence, you beggars' brats picked up on theheath?" "Better born than thou, braggart and coward that thou art!" broke forthStephen, while Master Headley exclaimed, "How now, lads? No brawlinghere!" Three voices spoke at once. "They were insolent. " "He reviled our birth. " "Father! they did but laugh when I told cousin Giles that he took to hisheels, and he must needs call them beggars' brats picked up on theheath. " "Ha! ha! wench, thou art woman enough already to set them together bythe ears, " said her father, laughing. "See here, Giles Headley, nonewho bears my name shall insult a stranger on my hearth. " Stephen however had stepped forth holding out his small stock of coin, and saying, "Sir, receive for our charges, and let us go to the tavernwe passed anon. " "How now, boy! Said I not ye were my guests?" "Yea, sir, and thanks; but we can give no cause for being called beggarsnor beggars' brats. " "What beggary is there in being guests, my young gentlemen?" said themaster of the house. "If any one were picked up on the heath, it was I. We owned you for gentlemen of blood and coat armour, and thy brotherthere can tell thee that ye have no right to put an affront on me, yourhost, because a rude prentice from a country town hath not learnt torule his tongue. " Giles scowled, but the armourer spoke with an authority that imposed onall, and Stephen submitted, while Ambrose spoke a few words of thanks, after which the two brothers were conducted by an external stair andgallery to a guest-chamber, in which to prepare for supper. The room was small, but luxuriously filled beyond all ideas of the youngforesters, for it was hung with tapestry, representing the history ofJoseph; the bed was curtained, there was a carved chest for clothes, atable and a ewer and basin of bright brass with the armourer's mark uponit, a twist in which the letter H and the dragon's tongue and tail wereingeniously blended. The City was far in advance of the country in allthe arts of life, and only the more magnificent castles and abbeys, which the boys had never seen, possessed the amount of comforts to befound in the dwellings of the superior class of Londoners. Stephen wasinclined to look with contempt upon the effeminacy of a churl merchant. "No churl, " returned Ambrose, "if manners makyth man, as we saw atWinchester. " "Then what do they make of that cowardly clown, his cousin?" Ambrose laughed, but said, "Prove we our gentle blood at least by notbrawling with the fellow. Master Headley will soon teach him to knowhis place. " "That will matter nought to us. To-morrow shall we be with our uncleHal. I only wish his lord was not of the ghostly sort, but perhaps hemay prefer me to some great knight's service. But oh! Ambrose, comeand look. See! The fellow they call Smallbones is come out to thefountain in the middle of the court with a bucket in each hand. Look!Didst ever see such a giant? He is as big and brawny as Ascapart at thebar-gate at Southampton. See! he lifts that big pail full and brimmingas though it were an egg shell. See his arm! 'Twere good to see himwield a hammer! I must look into his smithy before going forth to-morrow. " Stephen clenched his fist and examined his muscles ere donning his bestmourning jerkin, and could scarce be persuaded to complete his toilet, so much was he entertained with the comings and goings in the court, alittle world in itself, like a college quadrangle. The day's work wasover, the forges out, and the smiths were lounging about at ease, one ortwo sitting on a bench under a large elm-tree beside the central well, enjoying each his tankard of ale. A few more were watching Poppet beingcombed down, and conversing with the newly-arrived grooms. One wascarrying a little child in his arms, and a young man and maid sitting onthe low wall round the well, seemed to be carrying on a courtship overthe pitcher that stood waiting to be filled. Two lads were playing atskittles, children were running up and down the stairs and along thewooden galleries, and men and women went and came by the entrancegateway between the two effigies of knights in armour. Some wereservants bringing helm or gauntlet for repair, or taking the like away. Some might be known by their flat caps to be apprentices, and twosubstantial burgesses walked in together, as if to greet Master Headleyon his return. Immediately after, a man-cook appeared with white capand apron, bearing aloft a covered dish surrounded by a steamy cloud, followed by other servants bearing other meats; a big bell began tosound, the younger men and apprentices gathered together and thebrothers descended the stairs, and entered by the big door into the samelarge hall where they had been received. The spacious hearth was fullof green boughs, with a beaupot of wild rose, honeysuckle, clove pinksand gilliflowers; the lower parts of the walls were hung with tapestryrepresenting the adventures of Saint George; the mullioned windows hadtheir upper squares filled with glass, bearing the shield of the City ofLondon, that of the Armourers' Company, the rose and portcullis of theKing, the pomegranate of Queen Catharine, and other like devices. Others, belonging to the Lancastrian kings, adorned the pendants fromthe handsome open roof and the front of a gallery for musicians whichcrossed one end of the hall in the taste of the times of Henry the Fifthand Whittington. Far more interesting to the hungry travellers was it that the longtable, running the whole breadth of the apartment, was decked with snowylinen, trenchers stood ready with horns or tankards beside them, andloaves of bread at intervals, while the dishes were being placed on thetable. The master and his entire establishment took their mealstogether, except the married men, who lived in the quadrangle with theirfamilies. There was no division by the salt-cellar, as at the tables ofthe nobles and gentry, but the master, his family and guests, occupiedthe centre, with the hearth behind them, where the choicest of theviands were placed; next after them were the places of the journeymenaccording to seniority, then those of the apprentices, householdservants, and stable-men, but the apprentices had to assist the serving-men in waiting on the master and his party before sitting downthemselves. There was a dignity and regularity about the whole, whichcould not fail to impress Stephen and Ambrose with the weight andimportance of a London burgher, warden of the Armourers' Company, andalderman of the Ward of Cheap. There were carved chairs for himself, his mother, and the guests, also a small Persian carpet extending fromthe hearth beyond their seats. This article filled the two foresterswith amazement. To put one's feet on what ought to be a coverlet! Theywould not have stepped on it, had they not been kindly summoned by oldMistress Headley to take their places among the company, whichconsisted, besides the family, of the two citizens who had entered, andof a priest who had likewise dropped in to welcome Master Headley'sreturn, and had been invited to stay to supper. Young Giles, as amatter of course, placed himself amongst them, at which there were blacklooks and whispers among the apprentices, and even Mistress Headley worean air of amazement. "Mother, " said the head of the family, speaking loud enough for all tohear, "you will permit our young kinsman to be placed as our guest thisevening. To-morrow he will act as an apprentice, as we all have done inour time. " "I never did so at home!" cried Giles, in his loud, hasty voice. "I trow not, " dryly observed one of the guests. Giles, however, went on muttering while the priest was pronouncing aLatin grace, and thereupon the same burgess observed, "never did I seeit better proved that folk in the country give their sons no goodbreeding. " "Have patience with him, good Master Pepper, " returned Mr Headley. "Hehath been an only son, greatly cockered by father, mother, and sisters, but ere long he will learn what is befitting. " Giles glared round, but he met nothing encouraging. Little Dennet satwith open mouth of astonishment, her grandmother looked shocked, thehousehold which had been aggrieved by his presumption laughed at hisrebuke, for there was not much delicacy in those days; but somethinggenerous in the gentle blood of Ambrose moved him to some amount of pityfor the lad, who thus suddenly became conscious that the tie he hadthought nominal at Salisbury, a mere preliminary to municipal rank, washere absolute subjection, and a bondage whence there was no escape. Hiswas the only face that Giles met which had any friendliness in it, butno one spoke, for manners imposed silence upon youth at table, exceptwhen spoken to; and there was general hunger enough prevailing to makeMistress Headley's fat capon the most interesting contemplation for thepresent. The elders conversed, for there was much for Master Headley to hear ofcivic affairs that had passed in his absence of two months, also of allthe comings and goings, and it was ascertained that my Lord Archbishopof York was at his suburban abode, York House, now Whitehall. It was a very late supper for the times, not beginning till seveno'clock, on account of the travellers; and as soon as it was finished, and the priest and burghers had taken their leave, Master Headleydismissed the household to their beds, although daylight was scarcelydeparted. CHAPTER SIX. A SUNDAY IN THE CITY. "The rod of Heaven has touched them all, The word from Heaven is spoken Rise, shine and sing, thou captive thrall, Are not thy fetters broken!" Keble. On Sunday morning, when the young Birkenholts awoke, the whole airseemed full of bells from hundreds of Church and Minster steeples. TheDragon Court wore a holiday air, and there was no ring of hammers at theforges; but the men who stood about were in holiday attire: and thebrothers assumed their best clothes. Breakfast was not a meal much accounted of. It was reckoned effeminateto require more than two meals a day, though, just as in the verdurer'slodge at home, there was a barrel of ale on tap with drinking hornsbeside it in the hall, and on a small round table in the window a loafof bread, to which city luxury added a cheese, and a jug containingsack, with some silver cups beside it, and a pitcher of fair water. Master Headley, with his mother and daughter, was taking a morsel ofthese refections, standing, and in out-door garments, when the brothersappeared at about seven o'clock in the morning. "Ha! that's well, " quoth he, greeting them. "No slugabeds, I see. Willye come with us to hear mass at Saint Faith's?" They agreed, and MasterHeadley then told them that if they would tarry till the next day insearching out their uncle, they could have the company of TibbleSteelman, who had to see one of the captains of the guard about analteration of his corslet, and thus would have every opportunity offacilitating their inquiries for their uncle. The mass was an ornate one, though not more so than they were accustomedto at Beaulieu. Ambrose had his book of devotions, supplied by the goodmonks who had brought him up, and old Mrs Headley carried something ofthe same kind; but these did not necessarily follow the ritual, andneither quiet nor attention was regarded as requisite in "hearing mass. "Dennet, unchecked, was exchanging flowers from her Sunday posy withanother little girl, and with hooded fingers carrying on in allinnocence the satirical pantomime of Father Francis and SisterCatharine; and even Master Headley himself exchanged remarks with hisfriends, and returned greetings from burgesses and their wives while thecelebrant priest's voice droned on, and the choir responded--the pealsof the organ in the Minster above coming in at inappropriate moments, for there they were in a different part of High Mass using the Liturgypeculiar to Saint Paul's. Thinking of last week at Beaulieu, Ambrose knelt meantime with his headburied in his hands, in an absorption of feeling that was not perhapswholly devout, but which at any rate looked more like devotion than thedemeanour of any one around. When the _Ite missa est_ was pronounced, and all rose up, Stephen touched him and he rose, looking about, bewildered. "So please you, young sir, I can show you another sort of thing by andby, " said in his ear Tibble Steelman, who had come in late, and markedhis attitude. They went up from Saint Faith's in a flood of talk, with all manner ofpeople welcoming Master Headley after his journey, and thence came backto dinner which was set out in the hall very soon after their returnfrom church. Quite guests enough were there on this occasion to fillall the chairs, and Master Headley intimated to Giles that he must beginhis duties at table as an apprentice, under the tuition of the senior, atall young fellow of nineteen, by name Edmund Burgess. He lookedgreatly injured and discomfited, above all when he saw his twotravelling companions seated at the table--though far lower than thenight before; nor would he stir from where he was standing against thewall to do the slightest service, although Edmund admonished him sharplythat unless he bestirred himself it would be the worse for him. When the meal was over, and grace had been said, the boards were removedfrom their trestles, and the elders drew round the small table in thewindow with a flagon of sack and a plate of wastel bread in their midstto continue their discussion of weighty Town Council matters. Every onewas free to make holiday, and Edmund Burgess good-naturedly invited thestrangers to come to Mile End, where there was to be shooting at thebutts, and a match at single-stick was to come off between KitSmallbones and another giant, who was regarded as the champion of thebrewer's craft. Stephen was nothing loth, especially if he might take his own crossbow;but Ambrose never had much turn for these pastimes and was in no moodfor them. The familiar associations of the mass had brought the griefof orphanhood, homelessness, and uncertainty upon him with the moreforce. His spirit yearned after his father, and his heart was sick forhis forest home. Moreover, there was the duty incumbent on a good sonof saying his prayers for the repose of his hither's soul. He hinted asmuch to Stephen, who, boy-like, answered, "Oh, we'll see to that when weget into my Lord of York's house. Masses must be plenty there. And Imust see Smallbones floor the brewer. " Ambrose could trust his brother under the care of Edmund Burgess, andresolved on a double amount of repetitions of the appointedintercessions for the departed. He was watching the party of youths set off, all except Giles Headley, who sulkily refused the invitations, betook himself to a window and satdrumming on the glass, while Ambrose stood leaning on the dragonbalustrade, with his eyes dreamily following the merry lads out at thegateway. "You are not for such gear, sir, " said a voice at his ear, and he sawthe scathed face of Tibble Steelman beside him. "Never greatly so, Tibble, " answered Ambrose. "And _my_ heart is tooheavy for it now. " "Ay, ay, sir. So I thought when I saw you in Saint Faith's. I haveknown what it was to lose a good father in my time. " Ambrose held out his hand. It was the first really sympathetic word hehad heard since he had left Nurse Joan. "'Tis the week's mind of his burial, " he said, half choked with tears. "Where shall I find a quiet church where I may say his _de profundis_ inpeace?" "Mayhap, " returned Tibble, "the chapel in the Pardon churchyard wouldserve your turn. 'Tis not greatly resorted to when mass time is over, when there's no funeral in hand, and I oft go there to read my book inquiet on a Sunday afternoon. And then, if 'tis your will, I will takeyou to what to my mind is the best healing for a sore heart. " "Nurse Joan was wont to say the best for that was a sight of the trueCross, as she once beheld it at Holy Rood church at Southampton, " saidAmbrose. "And so it is, lad, so it is, " said Tibble, with a strange light on hisdistorted features. So they went forth together, while Giles again hugged himself in hisdoleful conceit, marvelling how a youth of birth and nurture could walkthe streets on a Sunday with a scarecrow such as that! The hour was still early, there was a whole summer afternoon beforethem; and Tibble, seeing how much his young companion was struck withthe grand vista of church towers and spires, gave him their names asthey stood, though coupling them with short dry comments on the way inwhich their priests too often perverted them. The Cheap was then still in great part an open space, where boys wereplaying, and a tumbler was attracting many spectators; while the ballad-singer of yesterday had again a large audience, who laughed loudly atevery coarse jest broken upon mass-priests and friars. Ambrose was horrified at the stave that met his ears, and asked how suchprofanity could be allowed. Tibble shrugged his shoulders, and citedthe old saying, "The nearer the church, "--adding, "Truth hath a voice, and will out. " "But surely this is not the truth?" "'Tis mighty like it, sir, though it might be spoken in a more seemlyfashion. " "What's this?" demanded Ambrose. "'Tis a noble house. " "That's the Bishop's palace, sir--a man that hath much to answer for. " "Liveth he so ill a life then?" "Not so. He is no scandalous liver, but he would fain stifle all thevoices that call for better things. Ay, you look back at yon ballad-monger! Great folk despise the like of him, never guessing at the powerthere may be in such ribald stuff; while they would fain silence thatwhich might turn men from their evil ways while yet there is time. " Tibble muttered this to himself, unheeded by Ambrose, and then presentlycrossing the churchyard, where a grave was being filled up, withnumerous idle children around it, he conducted the youth into a curiouslittle chapel, empty now, but with the Host enthroned above the altar, and the trestles on which the bier had rested still standing in thenarrow nave. It was intensely still and cool, a fit place indeed for Ambrose's filialdevotions, while Tibble settled himself on the step, took out a littleblack book, and became absorbed. Ambrose's Latin scholarship enabledhim to comprehend the language of the round of devotions he wasrehearsing for the benefit of his father's soul; but there was muchrepetition in them, and he had been so trained as to believe theircorrect recital was much more important than attention to their spirit, and thus, while his hands held his rosary, his eyes were fixed upon thewalls where was depicted the Dance of Death. In terrible repetition, the artist had aimed at depicting every rank or class in life as alikethe prey of the grisly phantom. Triple-crowned pope, scarlet-hattedcardinal, mitred prelate, priests, monks, and friars of every degree;emperors, kings, princes, nobles, knights, squires, yeomen, every sortof trade, soldiers of all kinds, beggars, even thieves and murderers, and, in like manner, ladies of every degree, from the queen and theabbess, down to the starving beggar, were each represented as grappledwith, and carried off by the crowned skeleton. There was no trucklingto greatness. The bishop and abbot writhed and struggled in the graspof Death, while the miser clutched at his gold, and if there were somenuns, and some poor ploughmen who willingly clasped his bony fingers andobeyed his summons joyfully, there were countesses and prioresses whotried to beat him off, or implored him to wait. The infant smiled inhis arms, but the middle-aged fought against his scythe. The contemplation had a most depressing effect on the boy, whose heartwas still sore for his father. After the sudden shock of such a loss, the monotonous repetition of the snatching away of all alike, in themidst of their characteristic worldly employments, and the anguish andhopeless resistance of most of them, struck him to the heart. He movedbetween each bead to a fresh group; staring at it with fixed gaze, whilehis lips moved in the unconscious hope of something consoling; till atlast, hearing some uncontrollable sobs, Tibble Steelman rose and foundhim crouching rather than kneeling before the figure of an emaciatedhermit, who was greeting the summons of the King of Terrors, withcrucifix pressed to his breast, rapt countenance and outstretched arms, seeing only the Angel who hovered above. After some minutes of bitterweeping, which choked his utterance, Ambrose, feeling a friendly hand onhis shoulder, exclaimed in a voice broken by sobs, "Oh, tell me, wheremay I go to become an anchorite! There's no other safety! I'll giveall my portion, and spend all my time in prayer for my father and theother poor souls in purgatory. " Two centuries earlier, nay, even one, Ambrose would have been encouragedto follow out his purpose. As it was, Tibble gave a little dry coughand said, "Come along with me, sir, and I'll show you another sort ofway. " "I want no entertainment!" said Ambrose, "I should feel only as if he, "pointing to the phantom, "were at hand, clutching me with his deadlyclaw, " and he looked over his shoulder with a shudder. There was a box by the door to receive alms for masses on behalf of thesouls in purgatory, and here he halted and felt for the pouch at hisgirdle, to pour in all the contents; but Steelman said, "Hold, sir, areyou free to dispose of your brother's share, you who are purse-bearerfor both?" "I would fain hold my brother to the only path of safety. " Again Tibble gave his dry cough, but added, "He is not in the path ofsafety who bestows that which is not his own but is held in trust. Iwere foully to blame if I let this grim portrayal so work on you as tolead you to beggar not only yourself, but your brother, with no consentof his. " For Tibble was no impulsive Italian, but a sober-minded Englishman ofsturdy good sense, and Ambrose was reasonable enough to listen and onlydrop in a few groats which he knew to be his own. At the same moment, a church bell was heard, the tone of which Steelmanevidently distinguished from all the others, and he led the way out ofthe Pardon churchyard, over the space in front of Saint Paul's. Manypersons were taking the same route; citizens in gowns and gold or silverchains, their wives in tall pointed hats; craftsmen, black-gownedscholarly men with fur caps, but there was a much more scanty proportionof priests, monks or friars, than was usual in any popular assemblage. Many of the better class of women carried folding stools, or had themcarried by their servants, as if they expected to sit and wait. "Is there a procession toward? or a relic to be displayed?" askedAmbrose, trying to recollect whose feast-day it might be. Tibble screwed up his mouth in an extraordinary smile as he said, "Relicquotha? yea, the soothest relic there be of the Lord and Master of usall. " "Methought the true Cross was always displayed on the High Altar, " saidAmbrose, as all turned to a side aisle of the noble nave. "Rather say hidden, " muttered Tibble. "Thou shalt have it displayed, young sir, but neither in wood nor gilded shrine. See, here he comeswho setteth it forth. " From the choir came, attended by half a dozen clergy, a small, pale man, in the ordinary dress of a priest, with a square cap on his head. Helooked spare, sickly, and wrinkled, but the furrows traced lines ofsweetness, his mouth was wonderfully gentle, and there was a keenbrightness about his clear grey eye. Every one rose and made obeisanceas he passed along to the stone stair leading to a pulpit projectingfrom one of the columns. Ambrose saw what was coming, though he had only twice before heardpreaching. The children of the ante-reformation were not called upon tohear sermons; and the few exhortations given in Lent to the monks ofBeaulieu were so exclusively for the religious that seculars were notinvited to them. So that Ambrose had only once heard a weary and heavydiscourse there plentifully garnished with Latin; and once he had stoodamong the throng at a wake at Millbrook, and heard a begging friarrecommend the purchase of briefs of indulgence and the daily repetitionof the Ave Maria by a series of extraordinary miracles for the rescue ofdesperate sinners, related so jocosely as to keep the crowd in a roar oflaughter. He had laughed with the rest, but he could not imagine hisguide, with the stern, grave eyebrows, writhen features and earnest, ironical tone, covering--as even he could detect--the deepest feeling, enjoying such broad sallies as tickled the slow merriment of villageclowns and forest deer-stealers. All stood for a moment while the Paternoster was repeated. Then theowners of stools sat down on them, some leant on adjacent pillars, others curled themselves on the floor, but most remained on their feetas unwilling to miss a word, and of these were Tibble Steelman and hiscompanion. _Omnis qui facit peccattum, servus est peccati_, followed by therendering in English, "Whosoever doeth sin is sin's bond thrall. " Thewords answered well to the ghastly delineations that seemed stamped onAmbrose's brain and which followed him about into the nave, so that hefelt himself in the grasp of the cruel fiend, and almost expected tofeel the skeleton claw of Death about to hand him over to torment. Heexpected the consolation of hearing that a daily "Hail Mary, " perseveredin through the foulest life, would obtain that beams should be arrestedin their fall, ships fail to sink, cords to hang, till such confessionhad been made as should insure ultimate salvation, after such aproportion of the flames of purgatory as masses and prayers might notmitigate. But his attention was soon caught. Sinfulness stood before him not asthe liability to penalty for transgressing an arbitrary rule, but as ataint to the entire being, mastering the will, perverting the senses, forging fetters out of habit, so as to be a loathsome horror paralysingand enchaining the whole being and making it into the likeness of himwho brought sin and death into the world. The horror seemed to grow onAmbrose, as his boyish faults and errors rushed on his mind, and he feltpervaded by the contagion of the pestilence, abhorrent even to himself. But behold, what was he hearing now? "The bond thrall abideth not inthe house for ever, but the Son abideth ever. _Si ergo Filiusliberavit, vere liberi eritis_. " "If the Son should make you free, thenare ye free indeed. " And for the first time was the true liberty of theredeemed soul comprehensibly proclaimed to the young spirit that hadbegun to yearn for something beyond the outside. Light began to shinethrough the outward ordinances; the Church; the world, life, and death, were revealed as something absolutely new; a redeeming, cleansing, sanctifying power was made known, and seemed to inspire him with a newlife, joy, and hope. He was no longer feeling himself necessarilycrushed by the fetters of death, or only delivered from absolute perilby a mechanism that had lost its heart, but he could enter into theglorious liberty of the sons of God, in process of being saved, not _in_sin but _from_ sin. It was an era in his life, and Tibble heard him sobbing, but with verydifferent sobs from those in the Pardon chapel. When it was over, andthe blessing given, Ambrose looked up from the hands which had coveredhis face with a new radiance in his eyes, and drew a long breath. Tibble saw that he was like one in another world, and gently led himaway. "Who is he? What is he? Is he an angel from Heaven?" demanded the boy, a little wildly, as they neared the southern door. "If an angel be a messenger of God, I trow he is one, " said Tibble. "But men call him Dr Colet. He is Dean of Saint Paul's Minster, anddwelleth in the house you see below there. " "And are such words as these to be heard every Sunday?" "On most Sundays doth he preach here in the nave to all sorts of folk. " "I must--I must hear it again!" exclaimed Ambrose. "Ay, ay, " said Tibble, regarding him with a well-pleased face. "You areone with whom it works. " "Every Sunday!" repeated Ambrose. "Why do not all--your master and allthese, " pointing to the holiday crowds going to and fro--"why do theynot all come to listen?" "Master doth come by times, " said Tibble, in the tone of irony that washard to understand. "He owneth the dean as a rare preacher. " Ambrose did not try to understand. He exclaimed again, panting as ifhis thoughts were too strong for his words-- "Lo you, that preacher-dean call ye him?--putteth a soul into what hathhitherto been to me but a dead and empty framework. " Tibble held out his hand almost unconsciously, and Ambrose pressed it. Man and boy, alike they had felt the electric current of that truth, which, suppressed and ignored among man's inventions, was coming as anew revelation to many, and was already beginning to convulse the Churchand the world. Ambrose's mind was made up on one point. Whatever he did, and whereverhe went, he felt the doctrine he had just heard as needful to him asvital air, and he must be within reach of it. This, and not thehermit's cell, was what his instinct craved. He had always been astudious, scholarly boy, supposed to be marked out for a clerical life, because a book was more to him than a bow, and he had been easilytrained in good habits and practices of devotion; but all in a childishmanner, without going beyond simple receptiveness, until the experiencesof the last week had made a man of him, or more truly, the Pardon chapeland Dean Colet's sermon had made him a new being, with the realities ofthe inner life opened before him. His present feeling was relief from the hideous load he had felt whiledwelling on the Dance of Death, and therewith general goodwill to allmen, which found its first issue in compassion for Giles Headley, whomhe found on his return seated on the steps--moody and miserable. "Would that you had been with us, " said Ambrose, sitting down beside himon the step. "Never have I heard such words as to-day. " "I would not be seen in the street with that scarecrow, " murmured Giles. "If my mother could have guessed that he was to be set over me, I hadnever come here. " "Surely you knew that he was foreman. " "Yea, but not that I should be under him--I whom old Giles vowed shouldbe as his own son--I that am to wed yon little brown moppet, and bemaster here! So, forsooth, " he said, "now he treats me like any commonlow-bred prentice. " "Nay, " said Ambrose, "an if you were his son, he would still make youserve. It's the way with all craftsmen--yea and with gentlemen's sonsalso. They must be pages and squires ere they can be knights. " "It never was the way at home. I was only bound prentice to my fatherfor the name of the thing, that I might have the freedom of the city, and become head of our house. " "But how could you be a wise master without learning the craft?" "What are journeymen for?" demanded the lad. "Had I known how GilesHeadley meant to serve me, he might have gone whistle for a husband forhis wench. I would have ridden in my Lady of Salisbury's train. " "You might have had rougher usage there than here, " said Ambrose. "Master Headley lays nothing on you but what he has himself proved. Iwould I could see you make the best of so happy a home. " "Ay, that's all very well for you, who are certain of a great man'shouse. " "Would that I were certified that my brother would be as well off asyou, if you did but know it, " said Ambrose. "Ha! here come the dishes!'Tis supper-time come on us unawares, and Stephen not returned from MileEnd!" Punctuality was not, however, exacted on these summer Sunday evenings, when practice with the bow and other athletic sports were enjoined byGovernment, and, moreover, the youths were with so trustworthy a memberof the household as Kit Smallbones. Sundry City magnates had come to supper with Master Headley, and whetherit were the effect of Ambrose's counsel, or of the example of a handsomelad who had come with his father, one of the worshipful guild ofMerchant Taylors, Giles did vouchsafe to bestir himself in waiting, andin consideration of the effort it must have cost him, old Mrs Headleyand her son did not take notice of his blunders, but only Dennet fellinto a violent fit of laughter, when he presented the stately aldermanwith a nutmeg under the impression that it was an overgrown peppercorn. She suppressed her mirth as well as she could, poor little thing, for itwas a great offence in good manners, but she was detected, and, onlychild as she was, the consequence was the being banished from the tableand sent to bed. But when, after supper was over, Ambrose went out to see if there wereany signs of the return of Stephen and the rest, he found the littlemaiden curled up in the gallery with her kitten in her arms. "Nay!" she said, in a spoilt-child tone, "I'm not going to bed before mytime for laughing at that great oaf! Nurse Alice says he is to wed me, but I won't have him! I like the pretty boy who had the good dog andsaved father, and I like you, Master Ambrose. Sit down by me and tellme the story over again, and we shall see Kit Smallbones come home. Iknow he'll have beaten the brewer's fellow. " Before Ambrose had decided whether thus far to abet rebellion, shejumped up and cried: "Oh, I see Kit! He's got my ribbon! He has wonthe match!" And down she rushed, quite oblivious of her disgrace, and Ambrosepresently saw her uplifted in Kit Smallbones' brawny arms to utter hercongratulations. Stephen was equally excited. His head was full of Kit Smallbones'exploits, and of the marvels of the sports he had witnessed and joinedin with fair success. He had thought Londoners poor effeminatecreatures, but he found that these youths preparing for the trainedbands understood all sorts of martial exercises far better than any ofhis forest acquaintance, save perhaps the hitting of a mark. He washalf wild with a boy's enthusiasm for Kit Smallbones and Edmund Burgess, and when, after eating the supper that had been reserved for the latecomers, he and his brother repaired to their own chamber, his tongue ranon in description of the feats he had witnessed and his hopes ofemulating them, since he understood that Archbishop as was my Lord ofYork, there was a tilt-yard at York House. Ambrose, equally full of hisnew feelings, essayed to make his brother a sharer in them, but Stephenentirely failed to understand more than that his book-worm brother hadheard something that delighted him in his own line of scholarship, fromwhich Stephen had happily escaped a year ago! CHAPTER SEVEN. YORK HOUSE. "Then hath he servants five or six score, Some behind and some before A marvellous great company Of which are lords and gentlemen, With many grooms and yeomen And also knaves among them. " _Contemporary Poem on Wolsey_. Early were hammers ringing on anvils in the Dragon Court, and all wasactivity. Master Headley was giving his orders to Kit Smallbones beforesetting forth to take the Duke of Buckingham's commands; Giles Headley, very much disgusted, was being invested with a leathern apron, andentrusted to Edmund Burgess to learn those primary arts of furbishingwhich, but for his mother's vanity and his father's weakness, he wouldhave practised four years sooner. Tibble Steelman was superintendingthe arrangement of half a dozen corslets, which were to be carried bythree stout porters, under his guidance, to what is now Whitehall, thenthe residence of the Archbishop of York, the king's prime adviser, Thomas Wolsey. "Look you, Tib, " said the kind-hearted armourer, "if those lads find nottheir kinsman, or find him not what they look for, bring them backhither, I cannot have them cast adrift. They are good and brave youths, and I owe a life to them. " Tibble nodded entire assent, but when the boys appeared in theirmourning suits, with their bundles on their backs, they were sent backagain to put on their forest green, Master Headley explaining that itwas reckoned ill-omened, if not insulting, to appear before any greatpersonage in black, unless to enhance some petition directly addressedto himself. He also bade them leave their fardels behind, as, if theytarried at York House, these could be easily sent after them. They obeyed--even Stephen doing so with more alacrity than he hadhitherto shown to Master Headley's behests; for now that the time fordeparture had come, he was really sorry to leave the armourer'shousehold. Edmund Burgess had been very good-natured to the raw countrylad, and Kit Smallbones was, in his eyes, an Ascapart in strength, and aBevis in prowess and kindliness. Mistress Headley too had been kind tothe orphan lads, and these two days had given a feeling of being at homeat the Dragon. When Giles wished them a moody farewell, and wished hewere going with them, Stephen returned, "Ah! you don't know when you arewell off. " Little Dennet came running down after them with two pinks in her hands. "Here's a sop-in-wine for a token for each of you young gentlemen, " shecried, "for you came to help father, and I would you were going to stayand wed me instead of Giles. " "What, both of us, little maid?" said Ambrose, laughing, as he stoopedto receive the kiss her rosy lips tendered to him. "Not but what she would have royal example, " muttered Tibble aside. Dennet put her head on one side, as considering. "Nay, not both; butyou are gentle and courteous, and he is brave and gallant--and Gilesthere is moody and glum, and can do nought. " "Ah! you will see what a gallant fellow Giles can be when thou hastcured him of his home-sickness by being good to him, " said Ambrose, sorry for the youth in the universal laughter at the child's plainspeaking. And thus the lads left the Dragon, amid friendly farewells. Ambroselooked up at the tall spire of Saint Paul's with a strong determinationthat he would never put himself out of reach of such words as he hadthere drunk in, and which were indeed spirit and life to him. Tibble took them down to the Saint Paul's stairs on the river, where athis whistle a wherry was instantly brought to transport them to Yorkstairs, only one of the smiths going any further in charge of thecorslets. Very lovely was their voyage in the brilliant summer morning, as the glittering water reflected in broken ripples church spire, convent garden, and stately house. Here rows of elm-trees made a coolwalk by the river side, there strawberry beds sloped down the Strand, and now and then the hooded figures of nuns might be seen gathering thefruit. There, rose the round church of the Temple, and the beautifulgardens surrounding the buildings, half monastic, half military, andalready inhabited by lawyers. From a barge at the Temple stairs a legalpersonage descended, with a square beard, and open, benevolent, shrewdface, before whom Tibble removed his cap with eagerness, saying toAmbrose, "Yonder is Master More, a close friend of the dean's, a goodand wise man, and forward in every good work. " Thus did they arrive at York House. Workmen were busy on some portionsof it, but it was inhabited by the great Archbishop, the king's chiefadviser. The approach of the boat seemed to be instantly notified, asit drew near the stone steps giving entrance to the gardens, with anavenue of trees leading up to the principal entrance. Four or five yeomen ran down the steps, calling out to Tibble that theircorslets had tarried a long time, and that Sir Thomas Drury had beenstorming for him to get his tilting armour into order. Tibble followed the man who had undertaken to conduct him through a paththat led to the offices of the great house, bidding the boys keep withhim, and asking for their uncle Master Harry Randall. The yeoman shook his head. He knew no such person in the household, anddid not think there ever had been such. Sir Thomas Drury was found inthe stable court, trying the paces of the horse he intended to use inthe approaching joust. "Ha! old Wrymouth, " he cried, "welcome at last!I must have my new device damasked on my shield. Come hither, and I'llshow it thee. " Private rooms were seldom enjoyed, even by knights and gentlemen, insuch a household, and Sir Thomas could only conduct Tibble to thearmoury, where numerous suits of armour hung on blocks, presenting thesemblance of armed men. The knight a good-looking personage, expatiatedmuch on the device he wished to dedicate to his lady-love, a piercedheart with a forget-me-not in the midst and it was not until thedirections were finished that Tibble ventured to mention the inquiry forRandall. "I wot of no such fellow, " returned Sir Thomas, "you had best go to thecomptroller, who keeps all the names. " Tibble had to go to this functionary at any rate, to obtain an order forpayment for the corslets he had brought home. Ambrose and Stephenfollowed him across an enormous hall, where three long tables were beinglaid for dinner. The comptroller of the household, an esquire of good birth, with a stifflittle ruff round his neck, sat in a sort of office inclosed by panelsat the end of the hall. He made an entry of Tibble's account in a bigbook, and sent a message to the cofferer to bring the amount. ThenTibble again put his question on behalf of the two young foresters, andthe comptroller shook his head. He did not know the name. "Was thegentleman, " (he chose that word as he looked at the boys), "layman orclerk?" "Layman, certainly, " said Ambrose, somewhat dismayed to find how little, on interrogation, he really knew. "Was he a yeoman of the guard, or in attendance on one of my lord'snobles in waiting?" "We thought he had been a yeoman, " said Ambrose. "See, " said the comptroller, stimulated by a fee administered by Tibble, "'tis just dinner-time, and I must go to attend on my Lord Archbishop;but do you, Tibble, sit down with these striplings to dinner, and then Iwill cast my eye over the books, and see if I can find any such name. What, hast not time? None ever quits my lord's without breaking hisfast. " Tibble had no doubt that his master would be willing that he should giveup his time for this purpose, so he accepted the invitation. The tableswere by this time nearly covered, but all stood waiting, for thereflowed in from the great doorway of the hall a gorgeous train--first, aman bearing the double archiepiscopal cross of York, fashioned insilver, and thick with gems--then, with lofty mitre enriched with pearlsand jewels, and with flowing violet lace-covered robes came the sturdysquare-faced ruddy prelate, who was then the chief influence in England, and after him two glittering ranks of priests in square caps and richlyembroidered copes, all in accordant colours. They were returning, as ayeoman told Tibble, from some great ecclesiastical ceremony, and dinnerwould be served instantly. "That for which Ralf Bowyer lives!" said a voice close by. "He wouldfain that the dial's hands were Marie bones, the face blancmange, wherein the figures should be grapes of Corinth!" Stephen looked round and saw a man close beside him in what he knew atonce to be the garb of a jester. A tall scarlet velvet cap, with threepeaks, bound with gold braid, and each surmounted with a little gildedbell, crowned his head, a small crimson ridge to indicate the cock'scomb running along the front. His jerkin and hose were of motley, theleft arm and right leg being blue, their opposites, orange tawny, whilethe nether socks and shoes were in like manner black and scarletcounterchanged. And yet, somehow, whether from the way of wearing it, or from the effect of the gold embroidery meandering over all, theeffect was not distressing, but more like that of a gorgeous bird. Thefigure was tall, lithe, and active, the brown ruddy face had none of theblank stare of vacant idiocy, but was full of twinkling merriment, theblack eyes laughed gaily, and perhaps only so clear-sighted and shrewdan observer as Tibble would have detected a weakness of purpose aboutthe mouth. There was a roar of laughter at the gibe, as indeed there was atwhatever was uttered by the man whose profession was to make mirth. "Thou likest thy food well enough thyself, quipsome one, " muttered Ralf. "Hast found one who doth not, Ralf? Then should he have a free gift ofmy bauble, " responded the jester, shaking on high that badge, surmountedwith the golden head of an ass, and jingling with bells. "How now, friend Wrymouth? 'Tis long since thou wert here! This house hath well-nigh been forced to its ghostly weapons for lack of thy substantialones. Where hast thou been?" "At Salisbury, good Merryman. " "Have the Wilts men raked the moon yet out of the pond? Did they lendthee their rake, Tib, that thou hast raked up a couple of green Forestpalmerworms, or be they the sons of the man in the moon, raked out andall astray?" "Mayhap, for we met them with dog and bush, " said Tibble, "and theydropped as from the moon to save my poor master from the robbers onBagshot heath! Come now, mine honest fellow, aid me to rake, as thousayest, this same household. They are come up from the Forest, to seekout their uncle, one Randall, who they have heard to be in this meine. Knowest thou such a fellow?" "To seek a spider in a stubble-field! Truly he needs my bauble who sentthem on such an errand, " said the jester, rather slowly, as if to taketime for consideration. "What's your name, my Forest flies?" "Birkenholt sir, " answered Ambrose, "but our uncle is Harry Randall. " "Here's fools enow to take away mine office, " was the reply. "Here's acouple of lads would leave the greenwood and the free oaks and beeches, for this stinking, plague-smitten London. " "We'd not have quitted it could we have tarried at home, " began Ambrose;but at that moment there was a sudden commotion, a trampling of horseswas heard outside, a loud imperious voice demanded, "Is my LordArchbishop within?" a whisper ran round, "the King, " and there enteredthe hall with hasty steps, a figure never to be forgotten, clad in abunting dress of green velvet embroidered with gold, with a goldenhunting horn slung round his neck. Henry the Eighth was then in the splendid prime of his youth, in histwenty-seventh year, and in the eyes, not only of his own subjects, butof all others, the very type of a true king of men. Tall, and as yet ofperfect form for strength, agility, and grace; his features were of thebeautiful straight Plantagenet type, and his complexion of purely fairrosiness, his large well-opened blue eyes full at once of frankness andkeenness, and the short golden beard that fringed his square chin givingthe manly air that otherwise might have seemed wanting to the femininetinting of his regular lineaments. All caps were instantly doffed savethe little bonnet with one drooping feather that covered his short, curled, yellow hair; and the Earl of Derby, who was at the head ofWolsey's retainers, made haste, bowing to the ground, to assure him thatmy Lord Archbishop was but doffing his robes, and would be with hisGrace instantly. Would his Grace vouchsafe to come on to the privychamber where the dinner was spread? At the same moment Quipsome Hal sprang forward, exclaiming, "How now, brother and namesake? Wherefore this coil? Hath cloth of gold weariedyet of cloth of frieze? Is she willing to own her right to this?" as heheld out his bauble. "Holla, old Blister! art thou there?" said the King, good-humouredly. "What! knowest not that we are to have such a wedding as will be a sightfor sore eyes!" "Sore! that's well said, friend Hal. Thou art making progress in mineart! Sore be the eyes wherein thou wouldst throw dust. " Again the King laughed, for every one knew that his sister Mary hadsecretly been married to the Duke of Suffolk for the last two months, and that this public marriage and the tournament that was to follow wereonly for the sake of appearances. He laid his hand good-naturedly onthe jester's shoulder as he walked up the hall towards the Archbishop'sprivate apartments, but the voices of both were loud pitched, and bitsof the further conversation could be picked up. "Weddings are rife inyour family, " said the jester, "none of you get weary of fitting on thenoose. What, thou thyself, Hal? Ay, thou hast not caught the contagionyet! Now ye gods forefend! If thou hast the chance, thou'lt have itstrong. " Therewith the Archbishop, in his purple robes, appeared in the archwayat the other end of the hall, the King joined him, and still followed bythe jester, they both vanished. It was presently made known that theKing was about to dine there, and that all were to sit down to eat. TheKing dined alone with the Archbishop as his host; the two noblemen whohad formed his suite joined the first table in the higher hall; theknights that of the steward of the household, who was of knightlydegree, and with whom the superior clergy of the household ate; and thegrooms found their places among the vast array of yeomen and serving-menof all kinds with whom Tibble and his two young companions had to eat. A week ago, Stephen would have contemned the idea of being classed withserving-men and grooms, but by this time he was quite bewildered, andanxious enough to be thankful to keep near a familiar face on any terms, and to feel as if Tibble were an old friend, though he had only knownhim for five days. Why the King had come had not transpired, but there was a whisper thatdespatches from Scotland were concerned in it. The meal was a lengthyone, but at last the King's horses were ordered, and presently Henrycame forth, with his arm familiarly linked in that of the Archbishop, whose horse had likewise been made ready that he might accompany theKing back to Westminster. The jester was close at hand, and as aparting shaft he observed, while the King mounted his horse, "FriendHal! give my brotherly commendations to our Madge, and tell her that onewho weds Anguish cannot choose but cry out. " Wherewith, affecting to expect a stroke from the King's whip, he doubledhimself up, performed the contortion now called turning a coachwheel, then, recovering himself, put his hands on his hips and danced wildly onthe steps; while Henry, shaking his whip at him, laughed at the only tooobvious pun, for Anguish was the English version of Angus, the title ofQueen Margaret's second husband, and it was her complaints that hadbrought him to his counsellor. The jester then, much to the annoyance of the two boys, thought properto follow them to the office of the comptroller, and as that dignitaryread out from his books the name of every Henry, and of all thevarieties of Ralf and Randolf among the hundred and eighty personscomposing the household, he kept on making comments. "Harry Hempseed, clerk to the kitchen; ay, Hempseed will serve his turn one of thesedays. Walter Randall, groom of the chamber; ah, ha! my lads, if youwant a generous uncle who will look after you well, there is your man!He'll give you the shakings of the napery for largesse, and when he isin an open-handed mood, will let you lie on the rushes that have servedthe hall. Harry of Lambeth, yeoman of the stable. He will make youfree of all the taverns in Eastchepe. " And so on, accompanying each remark with a pantomime mimicry of the airand gesture of the individual. He showed in a second the contortions ofHarry Weston in drawing the bow, and in another the grimaces of HenryHope, the choir man, in producing bass notes, or the swelling majesty ofRandall Porcher, the cross-bearer, till it really seemed as if he hadshown off the humours of at least a third of the enormous household. Stephen had laughed at first, but as failure after failure occurred, theantics began to weary even him, and seem unkind and ridiculous as hopeebbed away, and the appalling idea began to grow on him of being castloose on London without a friend or protector. Ambrose felt almostdespairing as he heard in vain the last name. He would almost have beenwilling to own Hal the scullion, and his hopes rose when he heard ofHodge Randolph, the falconer, but alas, that same Hodge came fromYorkshire. "And mine uncle was from the New Forest in Hampshire, " he said. "Maybe he went by the name of Shirley, " added Stephen, "'tis where hishome was. " But the comptroller, unwilling to begin a fresh search, replied at oncethat the only Shirley in the household was a noble esquire of theWarwickshire family. "You must e'en come back with me, young masters, " said Tibble, "and seewhat my master can do for you. " "Stay a bit, " said the fool. "Harry of Shirley! Harry of Shirley!Methinks I could help you to the man, if so be as you will deem himworth the finding, " he added, suddenly turning upside down, and lookingat them standing on the palms of his hands, with an indescribable leerof drollery, which in a moment dashed all the hopes with which they hadturned to him. "Should you know this nunks of yours?" he added. "I think I should, " said Ambrose. "I remember best how he used to carryme on his shoulder to cull mistletoe for Christmas. " "Ah, ha! A proper fellow of his inches now, with yellow hair?" "Nay, " said Ambrose, "I mind that his hair was black, and his eyes asblack as sloes--or as thine own, Master Jester. " The jester tumbled over into a more extraordinary attitude than before, while Stephen said-- "John was wont to twit us with being akin to Gipsy Hal. " "I mean a man sad and grave as the monks of Beaulieu, " said the jester. "He!" they both cried. "No, indeed! He was foremost in all sports. " "Ah!" cried Stephen, "mind you not, Ambrose, his teaching us leap-frog, and aye leaping over one of us himself, with the other in his arms. " "Ah! sadly changed, sadly changed, " said the jester, standing upright, with a most mournful countenance. "Maybe you'd not thank me if I showedhim to you, young sirs, that is, if he be the man. " "Nay! is he in need, or distress?" cried the brothers. "Poor Hal!" returned the fool, shaking his head with mournfulness in hisvoice. "Oh, take us to him, good--good jester, " cried Ambrose. "We are youngand strong. We will work for him. " "What, a couple of lads like you, that have come to London seeking forhim to befriend you--deserving well cap for that matter. Will ye beguided to him, my broken and soured--no more gamesome, but a sickly oldrunagate?" "Of course, " cried Ambrose. "He is our mother's brother. We must carefor him. " "Master Headley will give us work, mayhap, " said Stephen, turning toTibble. "I could clean the furnaces. " "Ah, ha! I see fools' caps must hang thick as beech masts in theForest, " cried the fool, but his voice was husky, and he turned suddenlyround with his back to them, then cut three or four extraordinarycapers, after which he observed-- "Well, young gentlemen, I will see the man I mean, and if he be thesame, and be willing to own you for his nephews, he will meet you in theTemple Gardens at six of the clock this evening, close to the rose-bushwith the flowers in my livery--motley red and white. " "But how shall we know him?" "D'ye think a pair of green caterpillars like you can't be marked--unless indeed the gardener crushes you for blighting his roses. "Wherewith the jester quitted the scene, walking on his hands, with hislegs in the air. "Is he to be trusted?" asked Tibble of the comptroller. "Assuredly, " was the answer; "none hath better wit than Quipsome Hal, when he chooseth to be in earnest. In very deed, as I have heard SirThomas More say, it needeth a wise man to be fool to my Lord of York. " CHAPTER EIGHT. QUIPSOME HAL. "The sweet and bitter fool Will presently appear, The one in motley here The other found out there. " Shakespeare. There lay the quiet Temple Gardens, on the Thames bank, cut out informal walks, with flowers growing in the beds of the homely kindsbeloved by the English. Musk roses, honeysuckle and virgin's bower, climbed on the old grey walls; sops-in-wine, bluebottles, bachelor'sbuttons, stars of Bethlehem and the like, filled the borders; May thornswere in full sweet blossom; and near one another were the two rose-bushes, one damask and one white provence, whence Somerset and Warwickwere said to have plucked their fatal badges; while on the opposite sideof a broad grass-plot was another bush, looked on as a great curiosityof the best omen, where the roses were streaked with alternate red andwhite, in honour, as it were, of the union of York and Lancaster. By this rose-tree stood the two young Birkenholts. Edmund Burgesshaving, by his master's desire, shown them the way, and passed them inby a word and sign from his master, then retired unseen to a distance tomark what became of them, they having promised also to return and reportof themselves to Master Headley. They stood together earnestly watching for the coming of the uncle, feeling quite uncertain whether to expect a frail old broken man, or tofind themselves absolutely deluded, and made game of by the jester. The gardens were nearly empty, for most people were sitting over theirsupper-tables after the business of the day was over, and only one ortwo figures in black gowns paced up and down in conversation. "Come away, Ambrose, " said Stephen at last. "He only meant to makefools of us! Come, before he comes to gibe us for having heeded amoment. Come, I say--here's this man coming to ask us what we are doinghere. " For a tall, well-made, well personage in the black or sad colour of alegal official, looking like a prosperous householder, or superiorartisan, was approaching them, some attendant, as the boys concludedbelonging to the Temple. They expected to be turned out, and Ambrose inan apologetic tone, began, "Sir, we were bidden to meet a--a kinsmanhere. " "And even so am I, " was the answer, in a grave, quiet tone, "or ratherto meet twain. " Ambrose looked up into a pair of dark eyes, and exclaimed, "Stevie, Stevie, 'tis he. 'Tis uncle Hal. " "Ay, 'tis all you're like to have for him, " answered Harry Randall, enfolding each in his embrace. "Lad, how like thou art to my poorsister! And is she indeed gone--and your honest father too--and noneleft at home but that hunks, little John? How and when died she?" "Two years agone come Lammastide, " answered Stephen. "There was adeadly creeping fever and ague through the Forest. We two sickened, andAmbrose was so like to die that Diggory went to the abbey for the priestto housel and anneal him, but by the time Father Simon came he was soundasleep, and soon was whole again. But before we were on our legs, ourblessed mother took the disease, and she passed away ere many days wereover. Then, though poor father took not that sickness, he never was thesame man again, and only twelve days after last Pasch-tide he was takenwith a fit and never spake again. " Stephen was weeping by this time, and his uncle had a hand on hisshoulder, and with tears in his eyes, threw in ejaculations of pity andaffection. Ambrose finished the narrative with a broken voice indeed, but as one who had more self-command than his brother, perhaps than hisuncle, whose exclamations became bitter and angry as he heard of thetreatment the boys had experienced from their half-brother, who, as hesaid, he had always known as a currish mean-spirited churl, but scarcesuch as this. "Nor do I think he would have been, save for his wife, Maud Pratt ofHampton, " said Ambrose. "Nay, truly also, he deemed that we were onlywithin a day's journey of council from our uncle Richard at Hyde. " "Richard Birkenholt was a sturdy old comrade! Methinks he would giveMaster Jack a piece of his mind. " "Alack, good uncle, we found him in his dotage, and the bursar of Hydemade quick work with us, for fear, good Father Shoveller said, that wewere come to look after his corrody. " "Shoveller--what, a Shoveller of Cranbury? How fell ye in with him?" Ambrose told the adventures of their journey, and Randall exclaimed, "Bymy bau--I mean by my faith--if ye have ill-luck in uncles, ye have hadgood luck in friends. " "No ill-luck in thee, good, kind uncle, " said Stephen, catching at hishand with the sense of comfort that kindred blood gives. "How wottest thou that, child? Did not I--I mean did not Merryman tellyou, that mayhap ye would not be willing to own your uncle?" "We deemed he was but jesting, " said Stephen. For a sudden twinkle in the black eyes, an involuntary twist of themuscles of the face, were a sudden revelation to him. He clutched holdof Ambrose with a sudden grasp; Ambrose too looked and recoiled for amoment, while the colour spread over his face. "Yes, lads. Can you brook the thought!--Harry Randall is the poorfool!" Stephen, whose composure had already broken down, burst into tearsagain, perhaps mostly at the downfall of all his own expectations andglorifications of the kinsman about whom he had boasted. Ambrose onlyexclaimed, "O uncle, you must have been hard pressed. " For indeed thegrave, almost melancholy man, who stood before them, regarding themwistfully, had little in common with the lithe tumbler full ofabsurdities whom they had left at York House. "Even so, my good lad. Thou art right in that, " said he gravely. "Harder than I trust will ever be the lot of you two, my sweet Moll'ssons. She never guessed that I was come to this. " "O no, " said Stephen. "She always thought thou--thou hadst some highpreferment in--" "And so I have, " said Randall with something of his ordinary humour. "There's no man dares to speak such plain truth to my lord--or for thatmatter to King Harry himself, save his own Jack-a-Lee--and he, being afool of nature's own making, cannot use his chances, poor rogue! And sothe poor lads came up to London hoping to find a gallant captain whocould bring them to high preferment, and found nought but--Tom Fool! Icould find it in my heart to weep for them! And so thou mindestclutching the mistletoe on nunk Hal's shoulder. I warrant it growethstill on the crooked May bush? And is old Bobbin alive?" They answered his questions, but still as if under a great shock, andpresently he said, as they paced up and down the garden walks, "Ay, Ihave been sore bestead, and I'll tell you how it came about, boys, andmayhap ye will pardon the poor fool, who would not own you sooner, lestye should come in for mockery ye have not learnt to brook. " There was asadness and pleading in his tone that touched Ambrose, and he drewnearer to his uncle, who laid a hand on his shoulder, and presently theother on that of Stephen, who shrank a little at first, but submitted. "Lads, I need not tell you why I left fair Shirley and the goodgreenwood. I was a worse fool then than ever I have been since I worethe cap and bells, and if all had been brought home to me, it might havebrought your father and mother into trouble--my sweet Moll who had doneher best for me. I deemed, as you do now, that the way to fortune wasopen, but I found no path before me, and I had tightened my belt many atime, and was not much more than a bag of bones, when, by chance, I fellin with a company of tumblers and gleemen. I sang them the old hunting-song, and they said I did it tunably, and, whereas they saw I couldalready dance a hornpipe and turn a somersault passably well, the leaderof the troop, old Nat Fire-eater, took me on, and methinks he did notrepent--nor I neither--save when I sprained my foot and had time to lieby and think. We had plenty to fill our bellies and put on our backs;we had welcome wherever we went, and the groats and pennies rained intoour caps. I was Clown and Jack Pudding and whatever served their turn, and the very name of Quipsome Hal drew crowds. Yea, 'twas a merry life!Ay, I feel thee wince and shrink, my lad; and so should I haveshuddered when I was of thine age, and hoped to come to better things. " "Methinks 'twere better than this present, " said Stephen rather gruffly. "I had my reasons, boy, " said Randall, speaking as if he were pleadinghis cause with their father and mother rather than with two such younglads. "There was in our company an old man-at-arms who played the luteand the rebeck, and sang ballads so long as hand and voice served him, and with him went his grandchild, a fair and honest little maiden, whomhe kept so jealously apart that 'twas long ere I knew of her followingthe company. He had been a franklin on my Lord of Warwick's lands, andhad once been burnt out by Queen Margaret's men, and just as thingslooked up again with him, King Edward's folk ruined all again, and slewhis two sons. When great folk play the fool, small folk pay the scot, as I din into his Grace's ears whenever I may. A minion of the Duke ofClarence got the steading, and poor old Martin Fulford was turned out toshift as best he might. One son he had left, and with him he went tothe Low Countries, where they would have done well had they not beenbitten by faith in the fellow Perkin Warbeck. You've heard of him?" "Yea, " said Ambrose; "the same who was taken out of sanctuary atBeaulieu, and borne off to London. Father said he was marvellous likein the face to all the kings he had ever seen hunting in the Forest. " "I know not; but to the day of his death old Martin swore that he was ason of King Edward's, and they came home again with the men the Duchessof Burgundy gave Perkin--came bag and baggage, for young Fulford hadwedded a fair Flemish wife, poor soul! He left her with his father nighto Taunton ere the battle, and he was never heard of more, but as he wasone of the few men who knew how to fight, belike he was slain. Thus oldMartin was left with the Flemish wife and her little one on his hands, for whose sake he did what went against him sorely, joined himself tothis troop of jugglers and players, so as to live by the minstrelsy hehad learnt in better days, while his daughter-in-law mended and made forthe company and kept them in smart and shining trim. By the time I fellin with them his voice was well-nigh gone, and his hand sorely shaking, but Fire-eating Nat, the master of our troop, was not an ill-naturedfellow, and the glee-women's feet were well used to his rebeck. Moreover, the Fire-eater had an eye to little Perronel, though hermother had never let him train her--scarce let him set an eye on her;and when Mistress Fulford died, poor soul, of ague, caught when weshowed off before the merry Prior of Worcester, her last words were thatPerronel should never be a glee-maiden. Well, to make an end of mytale, we had one day a mighty show at Windsor, when the King and Courtwere at the castle, and it was whispered to me at the end that my LordArchbishop's household needed a jester, and that Quipsome Hal had beenthought to make excellent fooling. I gave thanks at first, but said Iwould rather be a free man, not bound to be a greater fool than DameNature made me all the hours of the day. But when I got back to theGarter, what should I find but that poor old Martin had been strickenwith the dead palsy while he was playing his rebeck, and would nevertwang a note more; and there was pretty Perronel weeping over him, andNat Fire-eater pledging his word to give the old man bed, board, and allthat he could need, if so be that Perronel should be trained to be oneof his glee-maidens, to dance and tumble and sing. And there was thepoor old franklin shaking his head more than the palsy made it shakealready, and trying to frame his lips to say, `rather they both shoulddie. '" "Oh, uncle, I wot now what thou didst!" cried Stephen. "Yea, lad, there was nought else to be done. I asked Master Fulford togive me Perronel, plighting my word that never should she sing or dancefor any one's pleasure save her own and mine, and letting him know thatI came of a worthy family. We were wedded out of hand by the priestthat had been sent for to housel him, and in our true names. The Fire-eater was fiery enough, and swore that, wedded or not, I was bound tohim, that he would have both of us, and would not drag about a helplessold man unless he might have the wench to do his bidding. I verilybelieve that, but for my being on the watch and speaking a word to twoor three stout yeomen of the king's guard that chanced to be crushing apot of sack at the Garter, he would have played some villainous trick onus. They gave a hint to my Lord of York's steward and he came down anddeclared that the Archbishop required Quipsome Hal, and would--of hisgrace--send a purse of nobles to the Fire-eater, wherewith he was to beoff on the spot without more ado, or he might find it the worse for him, and they, together with mine host's good wife, took care that the roguedid not carry away Perronel with him, as he was like to have done. Toend my story, here am I, getting showers of gold coins one day andnought but kicks and gibes the next, while my good woman keeps housenigh here on the banks of the Thames with Gaffer Martin. Her Flemishthrift has set her to the washing and clear--starching of the lawyers'ruffs, whereby she makes enough to supply the defects of my scanty days, or when I have to follow my lord's grace out of her reach, sweet soul. There's my tale, nevoys. And now, have ye a hand for Quipsome Hal?" "O uncle! Father would have honoured thee!" cried Stephen. "Why didst thou not bring her down to the Forest?" said Ambrose. "I conned over the thought, " said Randall, "but there was no way ofliving. I wist not whether the Ranger might not stir up old tales, andmoreover old Martin is ill to move. We brought him down by boat fromWindsor, and he has never quitted the house since, nor his bed for thelast two years. You'll come and see the housewife? She hath a supperlaying out for you, and on the way we'll speak of what ye are to do, mypoor lads. " "I'd forgotten that, " said Stephen. "So had not I, " returned his uncle; "I fear me I cannot aid you topreferment as you expected. None know Quipsome Hal by any name but thatof Harry Merryman, and it were not well that ye should come in there asakin to the poor fool. " "No, " said Stephen, emphatically. "Your father left you twenty crowns apiece?" "Ay, but John hath all save four of them. " "For that there's remedy. What saidst thou of the Cheapside armourer?His fellow, the Wrymouth, seemed to have a care of you. Ye made in tothe rescue with poor old Spring. " "Even so, " replied Ambrose, "and if Stevie would brook the thought, Itrow that Master Headley would be quite willing to have him bound as hisapprentice. " "Well said, my good lad!" cried Hal. "What sayest thou, Stevie?" "I had liefer be a man-at-arms. " "That thou couldst only be after being sorely knocked about as horse-boyand as groom. I tried that once, but found it meant kicks, and oaths, and vile company--such as I would not have for thy mother's son, Steve. Headley is a well-reported, God-fearing man, and will do well by thee. And thou wilt learn the use of arms as well as handle them. " "I like Master Headley and Kit Smallbones well enough, " said Stephen, rather gloomily, "and if a gentleman must be a prentice, weapons are notso bad a craft for him. " "Whittington was a gentleman, " said Ambrose. "I am sick of Whittington, " muttered Stephen. "Nor is he the only one, " said Randall, "there's Middleton and Pole--ay, and many another who have risen from the flat cap to the open helm, ifnot to the coronet. Nay, these London companies have rules againsttaking any prentice not of gentle blood. Come in to supper with my goodwoman, and then I'll go with thee and hold converse with good MasterHeadley, and if Master John doth not send the fee freely, why then Iknow of them who shall make him disgorge it. But mark, " he added, as heled the way out of the gardens, "not a breath of Quipsome Hal. Downhere they know me as a clerk of my lord's chamber, sad and sober, andhigh in his trust and therein they are not far out. " In truth, though Harry Randall had been a wild and frolicsome youth inhis Hampshire home, the effect of being a professional buffoon hadactually made it a relaxation of effort to him to be grave, quiet, andslow in movement; and this was perhaps a more effectual disguise thanthe dark garments, and the false brown hair, beard, and moustache, withwhich he concealed the shorn and shaven condition required of thedomestic jester. Having been a player, he was well able to adapthimself to his part, and yet Ambrose had considerable doubts whetherTibble had not suspected his identity from the first, more especially asboth the lads had inherited the same dark eyes from their mother, andAmbrose for the first time perceived a considerable resemblance betweenhim and Stephen, not only in feature but in unconscious gesture. Ambrose was considering whether he had better give his uncle a hint, lest concealment should excite suspicion; when, niched as it wereagainst an abutment of the wall of the Temple courts, close to somesteps going down to the Thames, they came upon a tiny house, at whoseopen door stood a young woman in the snowiest of caps and aprons over ashort black gown, beneath which were a trim pair of blue hosen and stoutshoes; a suspicion of yellow hair was allowed to appear framing thehonest, fresh, Flemish face, which beamed a good-humoured welcome. "Here they be! here be the poor lads, Pernel mine. " She held out herhand, and offered a round comfortable cheek to each, saying, "Welcome toLondon, young gentlemen. " Good Mistress Perronel did not look, exactly the stuff to make a glee-maiden of, nor even the beauty for whom to sacrifice everything, evenliberty and respect. She was substantial in form, and broad in face andmouth, without much nose, and with large almost colourless eyes. Butthere was a wonderful look of heartiness and friendliness about herperson and her house; the boys had never in their lives seen anything soamazingly and spotlessly clean and shining. In a corner stood anerection like a dark oaken cupboard or wardrobe, but in the middle wasan opening about a yard square through which could be seen the night-capped face of a white-headed white-bearded old man, propped againstsnowy pillows. To him Randall went at once, saying, "So, gaffer, howgoes it? You see I have brought company, my poor sister's sons--resther soul!" Gaffer Martin mumbled something to them incomprehensible, but which thejester comprehended, for he called them up and named them to him, andMartin put out a bony hand, and gave them a greeting. Though his speechand limbs had failed him, his intelligence was evidently still intact, and there was a tenderly-cared-for look about him, rendering hiscondition far less pitiable than that of Richard Birkenholt, who was sopalpably treated as an incumbrance. The table was already covered with a cloth, and Perronel quickly placedon it a yellow bowl of excellent beef broth, savoury with vegetables andpot-herbs, and with meat and dumplings floating in it. A lesser bowlwas provided for each of the company, with horn spoons, and a loaf ofgood wheaten bread, and a tankard of excellent ale. Randall declaredthat his Perronel made far daintier dishes than my Lord Archbishop'scook, who went every day in silk and velvet. He explained to her his views on the armourer, to which she agreed withall her might, the old gentleman in bed adding something which the boysbegan to understand, that there was no worthier nor more honourablecondition than that of an English burgess, specially in the good town ofLondon, where the kings knew better than to be ever at enmity with theirgood towns. "Will the armourer take both of you?" asked Mistress Randall. "Nay, it was only for Stephen we devised it, " said Ambrose. "And what wilt thou do?" "I wish to be a scholar, " said Ambrose. "A lean trade, " quoth the jester; "a monk now or a friar may be a rightjolly fellow, but I never yet saw a man who throve upon books!" "I had rather study than thrive, " said Ambrose rather dreamily. "He wotteth not what he saith, " cried Stephen. "Oh ho! so thou art of that sort!" rejoined his uncle. "I know them! Acrabbed black and white page is meat and drink to them! There's thatDutch fellow, with a long Latin name, thin and weazen as never wasDutchman before; they say he has read all the books in the world, andcan talk in all the tongues, and yet when he and Sir Thomas More and theDean of Saint Paul's get together at my lord's table one would thinkthey were bidding for my bauble. Such excellent fooling do they make, that my lord sits holding his sides. " "The Dean of Saint Paul's!" said Ambrose, experiencing a shock. "Ay! He's another of your lean scholars, and yet he was born a wealthyman, son to a Lord Mayor, who, they say, reared him alone out of a roundscore of children. " "Alack! poor souls, " sighed Mistress Randall under her breath, for, asAmbrose afterwards learnt, her two babes had scarce seen the light. Herhusband, while giving her a look of affection, went on--"Not that he cankeep his wealth. He has bestowed the most of it on Stepney church, andon the school he hath founded for poor children, nigh to Saint Paul's. " "Could I get admittance to that school?" exclaimed Ambrose. "Thou art a big fellow for a school, " said his uncle, looking him over. "However, faint heart never won fair lady. " "I have a letter from the Warden of Saint Elizabeth's to one of theclerks of Saint Paul's, " added Ambrose. "Alworthy is his name. " "That's well. We'll prove that same, " said his uncle. "Meantime, if yehave eaten your fill, we must be on our way to thine armourer, nevoyStephen, or I shall be called for. " And after a private colloquy between the husband and wife, Ambrose wasby both of them desired to make the little house his home until he couldfind admittance into Saint Paul's School, or some other. He demurredsomewhat from a mixture of feelings, in which there was a certain amountof Stephen's longing for freedom of action, and likewise a doubt whetherhe should not thus be a great inconvenience in the tiny household--aburden he was resolved not to be. But his uncle now took a more serioustone. "Look thou, Ambrose, thou art my sister's son, and fool though I be, thou art bound in duty to me, and I to have charge of thee, nor will I--for the sake of thy father and mother--have thee lying I know not where, among gulls, and cutpurses, and beguilers of youth here in this city ofLondon. So, till better befalls thee, and I wot of it, thou must behere no later than curfew, or I will know the reason why. " "And I hope the young gentleman will find it no sore grievance, " saidPerronel, so good-humouredly that Ambrose could only protest that he hadfeared to be troublesome to her, and promise to bring his bundle thenext day. CHAPTER NINE. ARMS SPIRITUAL AND TEMPORAL. "For him was leifer to have at his bedde's hedde Twenty books clothed in blacke or redde Of Aristotle and his philosophie Than robes riche or fiddle or psalterie. " Chaucer. Master Headley was found spending the summer evening in the bay windowof the hall. Tibble sat on a three-legged stool by him, writing in acrabbed hand, in a big ledger, and Kit Smallbones towered above both, holding in his hand a bundle of tally-sticks. By the help of these, andof that accuracy of memory which writing has destroyed, he wasunfolding, down to the very last farthing, the entire account ofpayments and receipts during his master's absence, the debtor andcreditor account being preserved as perfectly as if he had always had apen in his huge fingers, and studied book-keeping by double or singleentry. On the return of the two boys with such an apparently respectable memberof society as the handsome well-dressed personage who accompanied them, little Dennet, who had been set to sew her sampler on a stool by hergrandmother, under penalty of being sent off to bed if she disturbed herfather, sprang up with a little cry of gladness, and running up toAmbrose, entreated for the tales of his good greenwood Forest, and thepucks and pixies, and the girl who daily shared her breakfast with asnake and said, "Eat your own side, Speckleback. " Somehow, on Sundaynight she had gathered that Ambrose had a store of such tales, and shedragged him off to the gallery, there to revel in them, while hisbrother remained with her father. Though Master Stephen had begun by being high and mighty aboutmechanical crafts, and thought it a great condescension to consent to bebound apprentice, yet when once again in the Dragon court, it looked sofriendly and felt so much like a home that he found himself very anxiousthat Master Headley should not say that he could take no moreapprentices at present, and that he should be satisfied with the termsuncle Hal would propose. And oh! suppose Tibble should recogniseQuipsome Hal! However, Tibble was at this moment entirely engrossed by the accounts, and his master left him and his big companion to unravel them, while hehimself held speech with his guest at some distance--sending for a cupof sack, wherewith to enliven the conversation. He showed himself quite satisfied with what Randall chose to tell ofhimself as a well known "housekeeper" close to the Temple, his wife a"lavender" there, while he himself was attached to the suite of theArchbishop of York. Here alone was there any approach to shuffling, forMaster Headley was left to suppose that Randall attended Wolsey in hiscapacity of king's counsellor, and therefore, having a house of his own, had not been found in the roll of the domestic retainers and servants. He did not think of inquiring further, the more so as Randall wasperfectly candid as to his own inferiority of birth to the Birkenholtfamily, and the circumstances under which he had left the Forest. Master Headley professed to be quite willing to accept Stephen as anapprentice, with or without a fee; but he agreed with Randall that itwould be much better not to expose him to having it cast in his teeththat he was accepted out of charity; and Randall undertook to get aletter so written and conveyed to John Birkenholt that he should notdare to withhold the needful sum, in earnest of which Master Headleywould accept the two crowns that Stephen had in hand, as soon as theindentures could be drawn out by one of the many scriveners who livedabout Saint Paul's. This settled, Randall could stay no longer, but he called both nephewsinto the court with him. "Ye can write a letter?" he said. "Ay, sure, both of us; but Ambrose is the best scribe, " said Stephen. "One of you had best write then. Let that cur John know that I have myLord of York's ear, and there will be no fear but he will give it. I'llfind a safe hand among the clerks, when the judges ride to hold theassize. Mayhap Ambrose might also write to the Father at Beaulieu. Thething had best be bruited. " "I wished to do so, " said Ambrose. "It irked me to have taken no leaveof the good Fathers. " Randall then took his leave, having little more than time to return toYork House, where the Archbishop might perchance come home wearied andchafed from the King, and the jester might be missed if not there to puthim in good humour. The curfew sounded, and though attention to its notes was not compulsoryby law, it was regarded as the break-up of the evening and the note ofrecall in all well-ordered establishments. The apprentices andjourneymen came into the court, among them Giles Headley, who had beentaken out by one of the men to be provided with a working dress, much tohis disgust; the grandmother summoned little Dennet and carried her offto bed. Stephen and Ambrose bade good-night, but Master Headley and histwo confidential men remained somewhat longer to wind up their accounts. Doors were not, as a rule, locked within the court, for though itcontained from forty to fifty persons, they were all regarded as asingle family, and it was enough to fasten the heavily bolted, iron-studded folding doors of the great gateway leading into Cheapside, thekey being brought to the master like that of a castle, seven minutes, measured by the glass, after the last note of the curfew in the belfryoutside Saint Paul's. The summer twilight, however, lasted long after this time of grace, andwhen Tibble had completed his accountant's work, and Smallbones' deepvoiced "Good-night, comrade, " had resounded over the court, he beheld afigure rise up from the steps of the gallery, and Ambrose's voice said:"May I speak to thee, Tibble? I need thy counsel. " "Come hither, sir, " said the foreman, muttering to himself, "Methought'twas working in him! The leaven! the leaven!" Tibble led the way up one of the side stairs into the open gallery, where he presently opened a door, admitting to a small, though highchamber, the walls of bare brick, and containing a low bed, a smalltable, a three-legged stool, a big chest, and two cupboards, also across over the head of the bed. A private room was a luxury neitherpossessed nor desired by most persons of any degree, and only enjoyed byTibble in consideration of his great value to his master, his peculiartastes, and the injuries he had received. In point of fact, his fallhad been owing to a hasty blow, given in a passion by the master himselfwhen a young man. Dismay and repentance had made Giles Headley a coolerand more self-controlled man ever since, and even if Tibble had not beena superior workman, he might still have been free to do almost anythinghe chose. Tibble gave his visitor the stool, and himself sat down onthe chest, saying: "So you have found your uncle, sir. " "Ay, " said Ambrose, pausing in some expectation that Tibble wouldmention some suspicion of his identity; but if the foreman had his ideason the subject he did not disclose them, and waited for morecommunications. "Tibble!" said Ambrose, with a long gasp, "I must find means to hearmore of him thou tookedst me to on Sunday. " "None ever truly tasted of that well without longing to come back toit, " quoth Tibble. "But hath not thy kinsman done aught for thee?" "Nay, " said Ambrose, "save to offer me a lodging with his wife, a goodand kindly lavender at the Temple. " Tibble nodded. "So far am I free, " said Ambrose, "and I am glad of it. I have a letterhere to one of the canons, one Master Alworthy, but ere I seek him Iwould know somewhat from thee, Tibble. What like is he?" "I cannot tell, sir, " said Tibble. "The canons are rich and many, and apoor smith like me wots little of their fashions. " "Is it true, " again asked Ambrose, "that the Dean--he who spake thosewords yesterday--hath a school here for young boys?" "Ay. And a good and mild school it be, bringing them up in the name andnurture of the Holy Child Jesus, to whom it is dedicated. " "Then they are taught this same doctrine?" "I trow they be. They say the Dean loves them like the children of hisold age, and declares that they shall be made in love with holy lore bygentleness rather than severity. " "Is it likely that this same Alworthy could obtain me entrance there?" "Alack, sir, I fear me thou art too old. I see none but little ladsamong them. Didst thou come to London with that intent?" "Nay, for I only wist to-day that there was such a school. I came withI scarce know what purpose, save to see Stephen safely bestowed, andthen to find some way of learning myself. Moreover, a change seems tohave come on me, as though I had hitherto been walking in a dream. " Tibble nodded, and Ambrose, sitting there in the dark, was moved to pourforth all his heart, the experience of many an ardent soul in thosespirit searching days. Growing up happily under the care of the simplemonks of Beaulieu he had never looked beyond their somewhat mechanicalroutine, accepted everything implicitly, and gone on acquiring knowledgewith the receptive spirit but dormant thought of studious boyhood as yetunawakened, thinking that the studious clerical life to which every onedestined him would only be a continuation of the same, as indeed it hadbeen to his master, Father Simon. Not that Ambrose expressed this, beyond saying, "They are good and holy men, and I thought all were likethem, and fear that was all!" Then came death, for the first time nearly touching and affecting theyouth, and making his soul yearn after further depths, which he mightyet have found in the peace of the good old men, and the holy rites anddoctrine that they preserved; but before there was time for these thingsto find their way into the wounds of his spirit, his expulsion from homehad sent him forth to see another side of monkish and clerkly life. Father Shoveller, kindly as he was, was a mere yeoman with nothingspiritual about him; the monks of Hyde were, the younger, gay comrades, only trying how loosely they could sit to their vows; the elder, churlish and avaricious; even the Warden of Elizabeth College was littlemore than a student. And in London, fresh phases had revealedthemselves; the pomp, state, splendour and luxury of Archbishop Wolsey'shouse had been a shock to the lad's ideal of a bishop drawn from thesaintly biographies he had studied at Beaulieu; and he had but to keephis ears open to hear endless scandals about the mass-priests, as theywere called, since they were at this time very unpopular in London, andin many cases deservedly so. Everything that the boy had hithertothought the way of holiness and salvation seemed invaded by evil anddanger, and under the bondage of death, whose terrible dance continuedto haunt him. "I saw it, I saw it, " he said, "all over those halls at York House. Iseemed to behold the grisly shape standing behind one and another, asthey ate and laughed; and when the Archbishop and his priests and theKing came in it seemed only to make the pageant complete! Only now andthen could I recall those blessed words, `Ye are free indeed. ' Did hesay from the bondage of death?" "Yea, " said Tibble, "into the glorious freedom of God's children. " "Thou knowst it. Thou knowst it, Tibble. It seems to me that life isno life, but living death, without that freedom! And I _must_ hear ofit, and know whether it is mine, yea, and Stephen's, and all whom Ilove. O Tibble, I would beg my bread rather than not have that freedomever before mine eyes. " "Hold it fast! hold it fast, dear sir, " said Tibble, holding out hishands with tears in his eyes, and his face working in a manner thathappily Ambrose could not see. "But how--how? The barefoot friar said that for an _Ave_ a day, ourBlessed Lady will drag us back from purgatory. I saw her on the wall ofher chapel at Winchester saving a robber knight from the sea, yea and athief from the gallows; but that is not being free. " "Fond inventions of pardon-mongers, " muttered Tibble. "And is one not free when the priest hath assoilsied him?" addedAmbrose. "If, and if--" said Tibble. "But none shall make me trow that shrift inwords, without heart--sorrow for sin, and the Latin heard with nothought of Him that bore the guilt, can set the sinner free. 'Tis noneother that the Dean sets forth, ay, and the book that I have here. Ithank my God, " he stood up and took off his cap reverently, "that Hehath opened the eyes of another!" His tone was such that Ambrose could have believed him some devoutalmost inspired hermit rather than the acute skilful artisan he appearedat other times; and in fact, Tibble Steelman, like many anothercraftsman of those days, led a double life, the outer one that of theordinary workman, the inner one devoted to those lights that wereshining unveiled and new to in any; and especially here in the heart ofthe City, partly from the influence of Dean Colet's sermons andcatechisings at Saint Paul's, but also from remnants of Lollardism, which had never been entirely quenched. The ordinary clergy looked atit with horror, but the intelligent and thoughtful of the burgher andcraftsman classes studied it with a passionate fervour which might havesooner broken out and in more perilous forms save for the guidance itreceived in the truly Catholic and open-spirited public teachings ofColet, in which he persisted in spite of the opposition of his brotherclergy. Not that as yet the inquirers had in the slightest degree broken withthe system of the Church, or with her old traditions. They were onlybeginning to see the light that had been veiled from them, and toendeavour to clear the fountain from the mire that had fouled it; andthere was as yet no reason to believe that the aspersions continuallymade against the mass-priests and the friars were more than the chronicgrumblings of Englishmen, who had found the same faults in them for thelast two hundred years. "And what wouldst thou do, young sir?" presently inquired Tibble. "That I came to ask thee, good Tibble. I would work to the best of mypower in any craft so I may hear those words and gain the key to all Ihave hitherto learnt, unheeding as one in a dream. My purpose had beento be a scholar and a clerk, but I must see mine own way, and knowwhither I am being carried, ere I can go farther. " Tibble writhed and wriggled himself about in consideration. "I would Iwist how to take thee to the Dean himself, " he said, "but I am but apoor man, and his doctrine is `new wine in old bottles' to the master, though he be a right good man after his lights. See now, MasterAmbrose, me seemeth that thou hadst best take thy letter first to thissame priest. It may be that he can prefer thee to some post about theminster. Canst sing?" "I could once, but my voice is nought at this present. If I could butbe a servitor at Saint Paul's School!" "It might be that the will which hath led thee so far hath that post instore for thee, so bear the letter to Master Alworthy. And if he failthee, wouldst thou think scorn of aiding a friend of mine who worketh aprinting-press in Warwick Inner Ward? Thou wilt find him at his placein Paternoster Row, hard by Saint Paul's. He needeth one who is clerkenough to read the Latin, and the craft being a new one 'tis fenced bynone of those prentice laws that would bar the way to thee elsewhere, atthy years. " "I should dwell among books!" "Yea, and holy books, that bear on the one matter dear to the trueheart. Thou might serve Lucas Hansen at the sign of the Winged Stafftill thou hast settled thine heart, and then it may be the way would beopened to study at Oxford or at Cambridge, so that thou couldst expoundthe faith to others. " "Good Tibble, kind Tibble, I knew thou couldst aid me! Wilt thou speakto this Master Hansen for me?" Tibble, however, held that it was more seemly that Ambrose should firsttry his fate with Master Alworthy, but in case of this not succeeding, he promised to write a billet that would secure attention from LucasHansen. "I warn thee, however, that he is Low Dutch, " he added, "though hespeaketh English well. " He would gladly have gone with the youth, andat any other time might have been sent by his master, but the wholeenergies of the Dragon would be taken up for the next week bypreparations for the tilting-match at court, and Tibble could not bespared for another working hour. Ambrose, as he rose to bid his friend good-night, could not help sayingthat he marvelled that one such as he could turn his mind to suchvanities as the tilt-yard required. "Nay, " said Tibble, "'twas the craft I was bred to--yea, and I have agood master; and the Apostle Paul himself--as I've heard a preachersay--bade men continue in the state wherein they were, and not becurious to chop and change. Who knoweth whether in God's sight, all ourwars and policies be no more than the games of the tilt-yard. Moreover, Paul himself made these very weapons read as good a sermon as the Deanhimself. Didst never hear of the shield of faith, and helmet ofsalvation, and breastplate of righteousness? So, if thou comest toMaster Hansen, and provest worthy of his trust, thou wilt hear more, ay, and maybe read too thyself, and send forth the good seed to others, " hemurmured to himself, as he guided his visitor across the moonlit courtup the stairs to the chamber where Stephen lay fast asleep. CHAPTER TEN. TWO VOCATIONS. "The smith, a mighty man is he With large and sinewy hands; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands. " Longfellow. Stephen's first thought in the morning was whether the _ex voto_ effigyof poor Spring was put in hand, while Ambrose thought of Tibble'spromised commendation to the printer. They both, however, found theiraffairs must needs wait. Orders for weapons for the tilting-match hadcome in so thickly the day before that every hand must be employed onexecuting them, and the Dragon court was ringing again with the clang ofhammers and screech of grind-stones. Stephen, though not yet formally bound, was to enter on his apprenticelife at once; and Ambrose was assured by Master Headley that it was ofno use to repair to any of the dignified clergy of Saint Paul's beforemid-day, and that he had better employ the time in writing to his elderbrother respecting the fee. Materials were supplied to him, and he usedthem so as to do credit to the monks of Beaulieu, in spite of littleDennet spending every spare moment in watching his pen as if he wereperforming some cabalistic operation. He was a long time about it. There were two letters to write, and thewording of them needed to be very careful, besides that the old courthand took more time to frame than the Italian current hand, and eventhus, when dinner-time came, at ten o'clock, the household wasastonished to find that he had finished all that regarded Stephen, though he had left the letters open, until his own venture should havebeen made. Stephen flung himself down beside his brother hot and panting, shakinghis shoulder-blades and declaring that his arms felt ready to drop out. He had been turning a grindstone ever since six o'clock. The two newapprentices had been set on to sharpening the weapon points as all thatthey were capable of, and had been bidden by Smallbones to turn and holdalternately, but "that oaf Giles Headley, " said Stephen, "never groundbut one lance, and made me go on turning, threatening to lay the buttabout mine ears if I slacked. " "The lazy lubber!" cried Ambrose. "But did none see thee, or couldstnot call out for redress?" "Thou art half a wench thyself, Ambrose, to think I'd complain. Besides, he stood on his rights as a master, and he is a big fellow. " "That's true, " said Ambrose, "and he might make it the worse for thee. " "I would I were as big as he, " sighed Stephen, "I would soon show himwhich was the better man. " Perhaps the grinding match had not been as unobserved as Stephenfancied, for on returning to work, Smallbones, who presided over all therougher parts of the business, claimed them both. He set Stephen tostand by him, sort out and hand him all the rivets needed for a suit ofproof armour that hung on a frame, while he required Giles to straightenbars of iron heated to a white heat. Ere long Giles called out forStephen to change places, to which Smallbones coolly replied, "Turnaboutis the rule here, master. " "Even so, " replied Giles, "and I have been at work like this longenough, ay, and too long!" "Thy turn was a matter of three hours this morning, " replied Kit--notcoolly, for nobody was cool in his den, but with a brevity whichprovoked a laugh. "I shall see what my cousin the master saith!" cried Giles, in greatwrath. "Ay, that thou wilt, " returned Kit, "if thou dost loiter over thybusiness, and hast not those bars ready when called for. " "He never meant me to be put on work like this, with a hammer thatbreaks mine arm. " "What! crying out for that!" said Edmund Burgess, who had just come into ask for a pair of tongs. "What wouldst say to the big hammer thatnone can wield save Kit himself?" Giles felt there was no redress, and panted on, feeling as if he weremelting away, and with a dumb, wild rage in his heart, that could get nooutlet, for Smallbones was at least as much bigger than he as he wasthan Stephen. Tibble was meanwhile busy over the gilding and enamellingof Buckingham's magnificent plate armour in Italian fashion, but he hadfound time to thrust into Ambrose's hand an exceedingly small andcuriously folded billet for Lucas Hansen, the printer, in case of need. "He would be found at the sign of the Winged Staff in Paternoster Row, "said Tibble, "or if not there himself, there would be his servant whowould direct Ambrose to the place where the Dutch printer lived andworked. " No one was at leisure to show the lad the way, and he set outwith a strange feeling of solitude, as his path began decisively to beaway from that of his brother. He did not find much difficulty in discovering the quadrangle on thesouth side of the minster where the minor canons lived near the deanery;and the porter, a stout lay brother, pointed out to him the doorwaybelonging to Master Alworthy. He knocked, and a young man with atonsured head but a bloated face opened it. Ambrose explained that hehad brought a letter from the Warden of Saint Elizabeth's College atWinchester. "Give it here, " said the young man. "I would give it to his reverence himself, " said Ambrose. "His reverence is taking his after-dinner nap and may not be disturbed, "said the man. "Then I will wait, " said Ambrose. The door was shut in his face, but it was the shady side of the court, and he sat down on a bench and waited. After full an hour the door wasopened, and the canon, a good-natured looking man, in a square cap, andgown and cassock of the finest cloth, came slowly out. He had evidentlyheard nothing of the message, and was taken by surprise when Ambrose, doffing his cap and bowing low, gave him the greeting of the Warden ofSaint Elizabeth's and the letter. "Hum! Ha! My good friend--Fielder--I remember him. He was always ascholar. So he hath sent thee here with his commendations. What shouldI do with all the idle country lads that come up to choke London andfeed the plague? Yet stay--that lurdane Bolt is getting intolerablylazy and insolent, and methinks he robs me! What canst do, thoustripling?" "I can read Latin, sir, and know the Greek alphabeta. " "Tush! I want no scholar more than enough to serve my mass. Canstsing?" "Not now; but I hope to do so again. " "When I rid me of Bolt there--and there's an office under the sacristanthat he might fill as well as another knave--the fellow might do for mewell enow as a body servant, " said Mr Alworthy, speaking to himself. "He would brush my gowns and make my bed, and I might perchance trusthim with my marketings, and by and by there might be some office for himwhen he grew saucy and idle. I'll prove him on mine old comrade'sword. " "Sir, " said Ambrose, respectfully, "what I seek for is occasion forstudy. I had hoped you could speak to the Dean, Dr John Colet, forsome post at his school. " "Boy, " said Alworthy, "I thought thee no such fool! Why crack thybrains with study when I can show thee a surer path to ease andpreferment? But I see thou art too proud to do an old man a service. Thou writst thyself gentleman, forsooth, and high blood will not stoop. " "Not so, sir, " returned Ambrose, "I would work in any way so I couldstudy the humanities, and hear the Dean preach. Cannot you commend meto his school?" "Ha!" exclaimed the canon, "this is your sort, is it? I'll have noughtto do with it! Preaching, preaching! Every idle child's head is agogon preaching nowadays! A plague on it! Why can't Master Dean leave itto the black friars, whose vocation 'tis, and not cumber us with hissermons for ever, and set every lazy lad thinking he must needs runafter them? No, no, my good boy, take my advice. Thou shalt have twogood bellyfuls a day, all my cast gowns, and a pair of shoes by theyear, with a groat a month if thou wilt keep mine house, bring in mymeals, and the like, and by and by, so thou art a good lad, and runstnot after these new-fangled preachments which lead but to heresy, andset folk racking their brains about sin and such trash, we'll get theeshorn and into minor orders, and who knows what good preferment thoumayst not win in due time!" "Sir, I am beholden to you, but my mind is set on study. " "What kin art thou to a fool?" cried the minor canon, so startlingAmbrose that he had almost answered, and turning to another ecclesiasticwhose siesta seemed to have ended about the same time, "Look at thisvarlet, Brother Cloudesley! Would you believe it? He comes to me witha letter from mine old friend, in consideration of which I offer himthat saucy lubber Bolt's place, a gown of mine own a year, meat andpreferment, and, lo you, he tells me all he wants is to study Greek, forsooth, and hear the Dean's sermons!" The other canon shook his head in dismay at such arrant folly. "Youngstripling, be warned, " he said. "Know what is good for thee. Greek isthe tongue of heresy. " "How may that be, reverend sir, " said Ambrose, "when the holy Apostlesand the Fathers spake and wrote in the Greek?" "Waste not thy time on him, brother, " said Mr Alworthy. "He will findout his error when his pride and his Greek forsooth have brought him tofire and faggot. " "Ay! ay!" added Cloudesley. "The Dean with his Dutch friend and hissermons, and his new grammar and accidence, is sowing heretics as thickas groundsel. " Wherewith the two canons of the old school waddled away, arm in arm, andBolt put out his head, leered at Ambrose, and bade him shog off, and notcome sneaking after other folk's shoes. Sooth to say, Ambrose was relieved by his rejection. If he were not toobtain admission in any capacity to Saint Paul's School, he felt moredrawn to Tibble's friend the printer; for the self-seeking luxurioushabits into which so many of the beneficed clergy had fallen wererepulsive to him, and his whole soul thirsted after that new revelation, as it were, which Colet's sermon had made to him. Yet the word heresywas terrible and confusing, and a doubt came over him whether he mightnot be forsaking the right path, and be lured aside by false lights. He would think it out before he committed himself. Where should he doso in peace? He thought of the great Minster, but the nave was full ofa surging multitude, and there was a loud hum of voices proceeding fromit, which took from him all inclination to find his way to the quieterand inner portions of the sanctuary. Then he recollected the little Pardon Church, where he had seen the_Dance of Death_ on the walls; and crossing the burial-ground heentered, and, as he expected, found it empty, since the hours for massesfor the dead were now past. He knelt down on a step, repeated the sextoffice, in warning for which the bells were chiming all round, coveringhis face with his hands, and thinking himself back to Beaulieu; then, seating himself on a step, leaning against the wall, he tried to thinkout whether to give himself up to the leadings of the new light that hadbroken on him, or whether to wrench himself from it. Was this, whichseemed to him truth and deliverance, verily the heresy respecting whichrumours had come to horrify the country convents? If he had only heardof it from Tibble Wrymouth, he would have doubted, in spite of its powerover him, but he had heard it from a man, wise, good, and high in place, like Dean Colet. Yet to his further perplexity, his uncle had spoken ofColet as jesting at Wolsey's table. What course should he take? Couldhe bear to turn away from that which drew his soul so powerfully, andreturn to the bounds which seem to him to be grown so narrow, but whichhe was told were safe? Now that Stephen was settled, it was open to himto return to Saint Elizabeth's College, but the young soul within himrevolted against the repetition of what had become to him unsatisfying, unless illumined by the brightness he seemed to have glimpsed at. But Ambrose had gone through much unwonted fatigue of late, and whilethus musing he fell asleep, with his head against the wall. He was halfwakened by the sound of voices, and presently became aware that twopersons were examining the walls, and comparing the paintings with someothers, which one of them had evidently seen. If he had known it, itwas with the _Dance of Death_ on the bridge of Lucerne. "I question, " said a voice that Ambrose had heard before, "whether theseterrors be wholesome for men's souls. " "For priests' pouches, they be, " said the other, with something of aforeign accent. "Alack, when shall we see the day when the hope of paradise and dread ofpurgatory shall be no longer made the tools of priestly gain; and hatredof sin taught to these poor folk, instead of servile dread ofpunishment. " "Have a care, my Colet, " answered the yellow bearded foreigner; "thouart already in ill odour with those same men in authority; and though aDean's stall be fenced from the episcopal crook, yet there is a rod atRome which can reach even thither. " "I tell thee, dear Erasmus, thou art too timid; I were well content toleave house and goods, yea, to go to prison or to death, could I butbring home to one soul, for which Christ died, the truth and hope inevery one of those prayers and creeds that our poor folk are taught topatter as a senseless charm. " "These are strange times, " returned Erasmus. "Methinks yonder phantom, be he skeleton or angel, will have snatched both of us away ere webehold the full issue either of thy preachings, or my Greek Testament, or of our More's Utopian images. Dost thou not feel as though we werelike children who have set some mighty engine in motion, like the greatwater-wheels in my native home, which, whirled by the flowing streams oftime and opinion, may break up the whole foundations, and destroy theoneness of the edifice?" "It may be so, " returned Colet. "What read we? `The net brake' even inthe Master's sight, while still afloat on the sea. It was only on theshore that the hundred and fifty-three, all good and sound, were drawnto His feet. " "And, " returned Erasmus, "I see wherefore thou hast made thy children atSaint Paul's one hundred and fifty and three. " The two friends were passing out. Their latter speeches had scarce beenunderstood by Ambrose, even if he heard them, so full was he ofconflicting feelings, now ready to cast himself before their feet, andentreat the Dean to help him to guidance, now withheld by bashfulness, unwillingness to interrupt, and ingenuous shame at appearing like aneavesdropper towards such dignified and venerable personages. Had heobeyed his first impulse, mayhap his career had been made safer andeasier for him, but it was while shyness chained his limbs and tonguethat the Dean and Erasmus quitted the chapel, and the opportunity ofaccosting them had slipped away. Their half comprehended words had however decided him in the part heshould take, making him sure that Colet was not controverting theformularies of the Church, but drawing out those meanings which inrepetition by rote were well-nigh forgotten. It was as if his coursewere made clear to him. He was determined to take the means which most readily presentedthemselves of hearing Colet; and leaving the chapel, he bent his stepsto the Row which his book-loving eye had already marked. Flanking thegreat Cathedral on the north, was the row of small open stalls devotedto the sale of books, or "objects of devotion, " all so arranged that theopen portion might be cleared, and the stock-in-trade locked up if notcarried away. Each stall had its own sign, most of them sacred, such asthe Lamb and Flag, the Scallop Shell, or some patron saint, butclassical emblems were oddly intermixed, such as Minerva's aegis, Pegasus, and the Lyre of Apollo. The sellers, some middle-aged men, some lads, stretched out their arms with their wares to attract thepassengers in the street, and did not fail to beset Ambrose. The morelively looked at his Lincoln-green and shouted verses of ballads at him, fluttering broad sheets with verses on the lamentable fate of JaneShore, or Fair Rosamond, the same woodcut doing duty for both ladies, without mercy to their beauty. The scholastic judged by his face andstep that he was a student, and they flourished at him black-boundcopies of Virgilius Maro, and of Tully's Offices, while others, hopingthat he was an incipient clerk, offered breviaries, missals orportuaries, with the Use of Saint Paul's, or of Sarum, or mayhap SaintAustin's Confessions. He made his way along, with his eye diligentlyheedful of the signs, and at last recognised the Winged Staff orcaduceus of Hermes, over a stall where a couple of boys in blue caps andgowns and yellow stockings were making a purchase of a small, grave-looking, elderly but bright cheeked man, whose yellow hair and beardwere getting intermingled with grey. They were evidently those SaintPaul's School boys whom Ambrose envied so much, and as they finishedtheir bargaining and ran away together, Ambrose advanced with asalutation, asked if he did not see Master Lucas Hansen, and gave himthe note with the commendations of Tibble Steelman the armourer. He was answered with a ready nod and "yea, yea, " as the old man openedthe billet and cast his eyes over it; then scanning Ambrose from head tofoot, said with some amazement, "But you are of gentle blood, youngsir. " "I am, " said Ambrose; "but gentle blood needs at times to work forbread, and Tibble let me hope that I might find both livelihood for thebody and for the soul with you, sir. " "Is it so?" asked the printer, his face lighting up. "Art thou willingto labour and toil, and give up hope of fee and honour, if so thou maystwin the truth?" Ambrose folded his hands with a gesture of earnestness, and Lucas Hansensaid, "Bless thee, my son! Methinks I can aid thee in thy quest, sothou canst lay aside, " and here his voice grew sharper and moreperemptory, "all thy gentleman's airs and follies, and serve--ay, serveand obey. " "I trust so, " returned Ambrose; "my brother is even now becomingprentice to Master Giles Headley, and we hope to live as honest men bythe work of our hands and brains. " "I forgot that you English herren are not so puffed up with pride andscorn like our Dutch nobles, " returned the printer. "Canst livesparingly, and lie hard, and see that thou keepst the house clean, notlike these English swine?" "I hope so, " said Ambrose, smiling; "but I have an uncle and aunt, andthey would have me lie every night at their house beside the Templegardens. " "What is thine uncle?" "He hath a post in the meine of my Lord Archbishop of York, " saidAmbrose, blushing and hesitating a little. "He cometh to and fro to hiswife, who dwells with her old father, doing fine lavender's work for thelawyer folk therein. " It was somewhat galling that this should be the most respectableoccupation that could be put forward, but Lucas Hansen was evidentlyreassured by it. He next asked whether Ambrose could read Latin, putting a book into his hand as he did so; Ambrose read and construedreadily, explaining that he had been trained at Beaulieu. "That is well!" said the printer; "and hast thou any Greek?" "Only the alphabeta, " said Ambrose, "I made that out from a book atBeaulieu, but Father Simon knew no more, and there was nought to studyfrom. " "Even so, " replied Hansen, "but little as thou knowst 'tis as much as Ican hope for from any who will aid me in my craft. 'Tis I that, as thouhast seen, furnish for the use of the children at the Dean's school ofSaint Paul's. The best and foremost scholars of them are grounded intheir Greek, that being the tongue wherein the Holy Gospels were firstwrit. Hitherto I have had to get me books for their use from Holland, whither they are brought from Basle, but I have had sent me from Hamburga fount of type of the Greek character, whereby I hope to print at home, the accidence, and mayhap the _Dialogues_ of Plato, and it might even bethe sacred Gospel itself, which the great Doctor, Master Erasmus, iseven now collating from the best authorities in the universities. " Ambrose's eyes kindled with unmistakable delight. "You have theaccidence!" he exclaimed. "Then could I study the tongue even whileworking for you! Sir, I would do my best! It is the very opportunity Iseek. " "Fair and softly, " said the printer with something of a smile. "Thouart new to cheapening and bargaining, my fair lad. Thou hast spoken notone word of the wage. " "I recked not of that, " said Ambrose. "'Tis true, I may not burthenmine uncle and aunt, but verily, sir, I would live on the humblest farethat will keep body and soul together so that I may have such anopportunity. " "How knowst thou what the opportunity may be?" returned Lucas, drily. "Thou art but a babe! Some one should have a care of thee. If I setthee to stand here all day and cry what d'ye lack? or to carry bales ofbooks 'twixt this and Warwick Inner Ward, thou wouldst have no ground tocomplain. " "Nay, sir, " returned Ambrose, "I wot that Tibble Steelman would neversend me to one who would not truly give me what I need. " "Tibble Steelman is verily one of the few who are both called andchosen, " replied Lucas, "and I think thou art the same so far as greenyouth may be judged, since thou art one who will follow the word intothe desert, and never ask for the loaves and fishes. Nevertheless, Iwill take none advantage of thy youth and zeal, but thou shalt firstbehold what thou shalt have to do for me, and then if it still likesthee, I will see thy kindred. Hast no father?" Ambrose explained, and at that moment Master Hansen's boy made hisappearance, returning from an errand; the stall was left in his charge, while the master took Ambrose with him into the precincts of what hadonce been the splendid and hospitable mansion of the great king-maker, Warwick, but was now broken up into endless little tenements with theircourts and streets, though the baronial ornaments and the arrangementstill showed what the place had been. Entering beneath a wide archway, still bearing the sign of the Bear andRagged Staff, Lucas led the way into what must have been one of thecourts of offices, for it was surrounded with buildings and sheds ofdifferent heights and sizes, and had on one side a deep trough of stone, fed by a series of water-taps, intended for the use of the stables. Thedoors of one of these buildings was unlocked by Master Hansen, andAmbrose found himself in what had once perhaps been part of a stable, but had been partitioned off from the rest. There were two stalls, oneserving the Dutchman for his living room, the other for his workshop. In one corner stood a white earthenware stove--so new a spectacle to theyoung forester that he supposed it to be the printing-press. A table, shiny with rubbing, a wooden chair, a couple of stools, a few vessels, mirrors for brightness, some chests and corner cupboards, a bed shuttingup like a box and likewise highly polished, completed the furniture, allarranged with the marvellous orderliness and neatness of the nation. Acurtain shut off the opening to the other stall, where stood a machinewith a huge screw, turned by leverage. Boxes of type and piles of papersurrounded it, and Ambrose stood and looked at it with a sort of awe-struck wonder and respect as the great fount of wisdom. Hansen showedhim what his work would be, in setting up type, and by and by correctingafter the first proof. The machine could only print four pages at atime, and for this operation the whole strength of the establishment wasrequired. Moreover, Master Hansen bound, as well as printed his books. Ambrose was by no means daunted. As long as he might read as well asprint, and while he had Sundays at Saint Paul's to look to, he asked nomore--except indeed that his gentle blood stirred at the notion ofacting salesman in the book-stall, and Master Hansen assured him with asmile that Will Wherry, the other boy, would do that better than eitherof them, and that he would be entirely employed here. The methodical master insisted however on making terms with the boy'srelations; and with some misgivings on Ambrose's part, the two--sincebusiness hours were almost over--walked together to the Temple and tothe little house, where Perronel was ironing under her window. Ambrose need not have doubted. The Dutch blood on either side wasstirred; and the good housewife commanded the little printer's respectas he looked round on a kitchen as tidy as if it in his own country. And the bargain was struck that Ambrose Birkenholt should serve MasterHansen for his meals and two pence a week, while he was to sleep at thelittle house of Mistress Randall, who would keep his clothes and linenin order. And thus it was that both Ambrose and Stephen Birkenholt had found theirvocations for the present, and both were fervent in them. MasterHeadley pshawed a little when he heard that Ambrose had engaged himselfto a printer and a foreigner; and when he was told it was to a friend ofTibble's, only shook his head, saying that Tib's only fault was dabblingin matters of divinity, as if a plain man could not be saved withoutthem! However, he respected the lad for having known his own mind andnot hung about in idleness, and he had no opinion of clerks, whethermonks or priests. Indeed, the low esteem in which the clergy as a classwere held in London was one of the very evil signs of the times. Ambrose was invited to dine and sup at the Dragon court every Sunday andholiday, and he was glad to accept, since the hospitality was so free, and he thus was able to see his brother and Tibble; besides that, itprevented him from burthening Mistress Randall, whom he really liked, though he could not see her husband, either in his motley or his plaingarments, without a shudder of repulsion. Ambrose found that setting up type had not much more to do with thestudy of new books than Stephen's turning the grindstone had withfighting in the lists; and the mistakes he made in spelling from rightto left, and in confounding the letters, made him despair, and preparefor any amount of just indignation from his master; but he found on thecontrary that Master Hansen had never had a pupil who made so fewblunders on the first trial, and augured well of him from such abeginning. Paper was too costly, and pressure too difficult, for manyproofs to be struck off, but Hansen could read and correct his type asit stood, and assured Ambrose that practice would soon give him the samepower; and the correction was thus completed, when Will Wherry, a big, stout fellow, came in to dinner--the stall being left during that time, as nobody came for books during the dinner-hour, and Hansen, having anunderstanding with his next neighbour, by which they took turns to keepguard against thieves. The master and the two lads dined together on the contents of acauldron, where pease and pork had been simmering together on the stoveall the morning. Their strength was then united to work the press andstrike off a sheet, which the master scanned, finding only one error init. It was a portion of Lilly's _Grammar_, and Ambrose regarded it withmingled pride and delight, though he longed to go further into thosedeeper revelations for the sake of which he had come here. Master Hansen then left the youths to strike off a couple of hundredsheets, after which they were to wash the types and re-arrange theletters in the compartments in order, whilst he returned to the stall. The customers requiring his personal attention were generally late ones. When all this was accomplished, and the pot put on again in preparationfor supper, the lads might use the short time that remained as theywould, and Hansen himself showed Ambrose a shelf of books concealed by ablue curtain, whence he might read. Will Wherry showed unconcealed amazement that this should be the tasteof his companion. He himself hated the whole business, and would neverhave adopted it, but that he had too many brothers for all to take tothe water on the Thames, and their mother was too poor to apprenticethem, and needed the small weekly pay the Dutchman gave him. He seemeda good-natured, dull fellow, whom no doubt Hansen had hired for the sakeof the strong arms, developed by generations of oarsmen upon the river. What he specially disliked was that his master was a foreigner. Thewhole court swarmed with foreigners, he said, with the utmost disgust, as if they were noxious insects. They made provisions dear, andundersold honest men, and he wondered the Lord Mayor did not see to itand drive them out. He did not so much object to the Dutch, but theSpaniards--no words could express his horror of them. By and by, Ambrose going out to fetch some water from the conduit, foundstanding by it a figure entirely new to him. It was a young girl ofsome twelve or fourteen years old, in the round white cap worn by all ofher age and sex; but from beneath it hung down two thick plaits of thedarkest hair he had ever seen, and though the dress was of the ordinarydark serge with a coloured apron, it was put on with an air that made itlook like some strange and beautiful costume on the slender, lithe, little form. The vermilion apron was further trimmed with a narrowborder of white, edged again with deep blue, and it chimed in with thebright coral earrings and necklace. As Ambrose came forward thecreature tried to throw a crimson handkerchief over her head, and raninto the shelter of another door, but not before Ambrose had seen a pairof large dark eyes so like those of a terrified fawn that they seemed tocarry him back to the Forest. Going back amazed, he asked his companionwho the girl he had seen could have been. Will stared. "I trow you mean the old blackamoor sword-cutler's wench. He is one of those pestilent strangers. An 'Ebrew Jew who worshipsMahound and is too bad for the Spanish folk themselves. " This rather startled Ambrose, though he knew enough to see that theaccusations could not both be true, but he forgot it in the delight, when Will pronounced the work done, of drawing back the curtain andfeasting his eyes upon the black backs of the books, and the black-letter brochures that lay by them. There were scarcely thirty, yet hegloated on them as on an inexhaustible store, while Will, whistlingwonder at his taste, opined that since some one was there to look afterthe stove, and the iron pot on it, he might go out and have a turn atball with Hob and Martin. Ambrose was glad to be left to go over his coming feast. There wasLatin, English, and, alas! baffling Dutch. High or Low it was all thesame to him. What excited his curiosity most was the _EnchiridionMilitis Christiani_ of Erasmus--in Latin of course, and that he couldeasily read--but almost equally exciting was a Greek and Latinvocabulary; or again, a very thin book in which he recognised the NewTestament in the Vulgate. He had heard chapters of it read from thegraceful stone pulpit overhanging the refectory at Beaulieu, and, ofcourse, the Gospels and Epistles at mass, but they had been read withlittle expression and no attention; and that Sunday's discourse hadfilled him with eagerness to look farther; but the mere reading thetitles of the books was pleasure enough for the day, and his master wasat home before he had fixed his mind on anything. Perhaps this was aswell, for Lucas advised him what to begin with, and how to divide hisstudies so as to gain a knowledge of the Greek, his great ambition, andalso to read the Scripture. The master was almost as much delighted as the scholar, and it was nottill the curfew was beginning to sound that Ambrose could tear himselfaway. It was still daylight, and the door of the next dwelling wasopen. There, sitting on the ground cross-legged, in an attitude such asAmbrose had never seen, was a magnificent old man, with a huge longwhite beard, wearing, indeed, the usual dress of a Londoner of the lowerclass, but the gown flowed round him in a grand and patriarchal manner, corresponding with his noble, somewhat aquiline features; and behind himAmbrose thought he caught a glimpse of the shy fawn he had seen in themorning. CHAPTER ELEVEN. AY DI ME GRENADA. "In sooth it was a thing to weep If then as now the level plain Beneath was spreading like the deep, The broad unruffled main. If like a watch-tower of the sun Above, the Alpuxarras rose, Streaked, when the dying day was done, With evening's roseate snows. " Archbishop Trench. When Mary Tudor, released by death from her first dreary marriage, contracted for her brother's pleasure, had appeased his wrath at hersecond marriage made to please herself, Henry the Eighth was only tooglad to mark his assent by all manner of festivities; and Englishchroniclers, instead of recording battles and politics, had only towrite of pageantries and tournaments during the merry May of the year1515--a May, be it remembered, which, thanks to the old style, was atleast ten days nearer to Midsummer than our present month. How the two queens and all their court had gone a-maying on Shooter'sHill, ladies and horses poetically disguised and labelled with sweetsummer titles, was only a nine days' wonder when the Birkenholts hadcome to London, but the approaching tournament at Westminster on theWhitsun holiday was the great excitement to the whole population, for, with all its faults, the Court of bluff King Hal was thoroughly genial, and every one, gentle and simple, might participate in his pleasures. Seats were reserved at the lists for the city dignitaries and theirfamilies, and though old Mistress Headley professed that she ought tohave done with such vanities, she could not forbear from going to seethat her son was not too much encumbered with the care of little Dennet, and that the child herself ran into no mischief. Master Headley himselfgrumbled and sighed but he put himself into his scarlet gown, holdingthat his presence was a befitting attention to the king, glad to gratifyhis little daughter, and not without a desire to see how hisworkmanship--good English ware--held out against "mail and plate ofMilan steel, " the fine armour brought home from France by the new Dukeof Suffolk. Giles donned his best in the expectation of sitting in theplaces of honour as one of the family, and was greatly disgusted whenKit Smallbones observed, "What's all that bravery for? The tilting-match quotha? Ha! ha! my young springald, if thou see it at all, thoumust be content to gaze as thou canst from the armourers' tent, ifTibble there chooses to be cumbered with a useless lubber like thee. " "I always sat with my mother when there were matches at Clarendon, "muttered Giles, who had learnt at least that it was of no use tocomplain of Smallbones' plain speaking. "If folks cocker malapert lads at Sarum we know better here, " was theanswer. "I shall ask the master, my kinsman, " returned the youth. But he got little by his move. Master Headley told him, not unkindly, for he had some pity for the spoilt lad, that not the Lord Mayor himselfwould take his own son with him while yet an apprentice. TibbleSteelman would indeed go to one of the attendants' tents at the furtherend of the lists, where repairs to armour and weapons might be needed, and would take an assistant or two, but who they might be must depend onhis own choice, and if Giles had any desire to go, he had better don hisworking dress. In fact, Tibble meant to take Edmund Burgess and one workman for use, and one of the new apprentices for pleasure, letting them change in themiddle of the day. The swagger of Giles actually forfeited for him thefirst turn, which--though he was no favourite with the men--would havebeen granted to his elder years and his relationship to the master; buton his overbearing demand to enter the boat which was to carry down alittle anvil and charcoal furnace, with a few tools, rivets, nails, andhorse-shoes, Tibble coolly returned that he needed no such gay birds;but if Giles chose to be ready in his leathern coat when StephenBirkenholt came home at mid-day, mayhap he might change with him. Stephen went joyously in the plainest of attire, though Tibble in furcap, grimy jerkin, and leathern apron was no elegant steersman; andEdmund, who was at the age of youthful foppery, shrugged his shoulders alittle, and disguised the garments of the smithy with his best flat capand newest mantle. They kept in the wake of the handsome barge which Master Headley sharedwith his friend and brother alderman, Master Hope the draper, whoseyoung wife, in a beautiful black velvet hood and shining blue satinkirtle, was evidently petting Dennet to her heart's content, though thelittle damsel never lost an opportunity of nodding to her friends in theplainer barge in the rear. The Tudor tilting-matches cost no lives, and seldom broke bones. Theywere chiefly opportunities for the display of brilliant enamelled andgilt armour, at the very acme of cumbrous magnificence; and of equallygorgeous embroidery spread out over the vast expanse provided byelephantine Flemish horses. Even if the weapons had not been purposelyblunted, and if the champions had really desired to slay one another, they would have found the task very difficult, as in effect they did inthe actual game of war. But the spectacle was a splendid one, and allthe apparatus was ready in the armourers' tent, marked by Saint Georgeand the Dragon. Tibble ensconced himself in the innermost corner with a"tractate, " borrowed from his friend Lucas, and sent the apprentices togaze their fill at the rapidly filling circles of seats. They saw KingHarry, resplendent in gilded armour--"from their own anvil, true Englishsteel, " said Edmund, proudly--hand to her seat his sister the bride, oneof the most beautiful women then in existence, with a lovely anddelicate bloom on her fair face and exquisite Plantagenet features. Nomore royally handsome creatures could the world have offered than thatbrother and sister, and the English world appreciated them and made thelists ring with applause at the fair lady who had disdained foreignprinces to wed her true love, an honest Englishman. He--the cloth of frieze--in blue Milanese armour, made to look asclassical as possible, and with clasps and medals engraven from antiquegems--handed in Queen Katharine, whose dark but glowing Spanishcomplexion made a striking contrast to the dazzling fairness of heryoung sister-in-law. Near them sat a stout burly figure in episcopalpurple, and at his feet there was a form which nearly took away allStephen's pleasure for the time. For it was in motley, and he couldhear the bells jingle, while the hot blood rose in his cheeks in thedread lest Burgess should detect the connection, or recognise in thejester the grave personage who had come to negotiate with Mr Headleyfor his indentures, or worse still, that the fool should see and claimhim. However, Quipsome Hal seemed to be exchanging drolleries with the youngdowager of France, who, sooth to say, giggled in a very unqueenly mannerat jokes which made the grave Spanish-born queen draw up her statelyhead, and converse with a lady on her other hand--an equally statelylady, somewhat older, with the straight Plantagenet features, and by herside a handsome boy, who, though only eight or nine years old, wastonsured, and had a little scholar's gown. "That, " said Edmund, "is myLady Countess of Salisbury, of whom Giles Headley prates so much. " A tournament, which was merely a game between gorgeously equippedprinces and nobles, afforded little scope for adventure worthy ofrecord, though it gave great diversion to the spectators. Stephen gazedlike one fascinated at the gay panoply of horse and man, with the hugeplumes on the heads of both, as they rushed against one another, and heshared with Edmund the triumph when the lance from their armoury heldgood, the vexation if it were shivered. All would have been perfect butfor the sight of his uncle, playing off his drolleries in a manner thatgave him a sense of personal degradation. To escape from the sight almost consoled him when, in the pause afterthe first courses had been run, Tibble told him and Burgess to return, and send Headley and another workman with a fresh bundle of lances forthe afternoon's tilting. Stephen further hoped to find his brother atthe Dragon court, as it was one of those holidays that set every onefree, and separation began to make the brothers value their meetings. But Ambrose was not at the Dragon court, and when Stephen went in questof him to the Temple, Perronel had not seen him since the early morning, but she said he seemed so much bitten with the little old man'sscholarship that she had small doubt that he would be found poring overa book in Warwick Inner Ward. Thither therefore did Stephen repair. The place was nearly deserted, for the inhabitants were mostly either artisans or that far too numerousrace who lived on the doles of convents, on the alms of churchgoers, andthe largesses scattered among the people on public occasions, and thesewere for the most part pursuing their vocation both of gazing andlooking out for gain among the spectators outside the lists. The doorthat Stephen had been shown as that of Ambrose's master was, however, partly open, and close beside it sat in the sun a figure that amazedhim. On a small mat or rug, with a black and yellow handkerchief overher head, and little scarlet legs crossed under a blue dress, alllighted up by the gay May sun, there slept the little dark, glowingmaiden, with her head bent as it leant against the wall, her rosy lipshalf-open, her long black plaits on her shoulders. Stepping up to the half-open door, whence he heard a voice reading, hisastonishment was increased. At the table were his brother and hismaster, Ambrose with a black book in hand, Lucas Hansen with somepapers, and on the ground was seated a venerable, white-bearded old man, something between Stephen's notions of an apostle and of a magician, though the latter idea predominated at sight of a long parchment scrollcovered with characters such as belonged to no alphabet that he had everdreamt of. What were they doing to his brother? He was absolutely inan enchanter's den. Was it a pixie at the door, guarding it?"Ambrose!" he cried aloud. Everybody started. Ambrose sprang to his feet, exclaiming, "Stephen!"The pixie gave a little scream and jumped up, flying to the old man, whoquietly rolled up his scroll. Lucas rose up as Ambrose spoke. "Thy brother?" said he. "Yea--come in search of me, " said Ambrose. "Thou hadst best go forth with him, " said Lucas. "It is not well that youth should study over long, " said the old man. "Thou hast aided us well, but do thou now unbend the bow. Peace be withthee, my son. " Ambrose complied, but scarcely willingly, and the instant they had madea few steps from the door, Stephen exclaimed in dismay, "Who--what wasit? Have they bewitched thee, Ambrose?" Ambrose laughed merrily. "Not so. It is holy lore that those good menare reading. " "Nay now, Ambrose. Stand still--if thou canst, poor fellow, " hemuttered, and then made the sign of the cross three times over hisbrother, who stood smiling, and said, "Art satisfied Stevie? Or wilthave me rehearse my _Credo_?" Which he did, Stephen listeningcritically, and drawing a long breath as he recognised each word, pronounced without a shudder at the critical points. "Thou art safe sofar, " said Stephen. "But sure he is a wizard. I even beheld hisfamiliar spirit--in a fair shape doubtless--like a pixie! Be notdeceived, brother. Sorcery reads backwards--and I saw him so read fromthat scroll of his. Laughest thou! Nay! what shall I do to free thee?Enter here!" Stephen dragged his brother, still laughing, into the porch of thenearest church, and deluged him with holy water with such good will, that Ambrose, putting up his hands to shield his eyes, exclaimed, "Comenow, have done with this folly, Stephen--though it makes me laugh tothink of thy scared looks, and poor little Aldonza being taken for afamiliar spirit. " And Ambrose laughed as he had not laughed for weeks. "But what is it, then?" "The old man is of thy calling, or something like it, Stephen, beingthat he maketh and tempereth sword-blades after the prime Damascene orToledo fashion, and the familiar spirit is his little daughter. " Stephen did not however look mollified. "Sword-blades! None have aright to make them save our craft. This is one of the rascailleSpaniards who have poured into the city under favour of the queen tospoil and ruin the lawful trade. Though could you but have seen, Ambrose, how our tough English ashwood in King Harry's band--from ourown armoury too--made all go down before it, you would never upholdstrangers and their false wares that can only get the better bysorcery. " "How thou dost harp upon sorcery!" exclaimed Ambrose. "I must tell theethe good old man's story as 'twas told to me, and then wilt thou ownthat he is as good a Christian as ourselves--ay, or better--and hathlittle cause to love the Spaniards. " "Come on, then, " said Stephen. "Methought if we, went towardsWestminster we might yet get where we could see the lists. Such a rareshow, Ambrose, to see the King in English armour, ay, and MasterHeadley's, every inch of it, glittering in the sun, so that one couldscarce brook the dazzling, on his horse like a rock shattering all thatcame against him! I warrant you the lances cracked and shivered likefaggots under old Purkis's bill-hook. And that you should liefer poreover crabbed monkish stuff with yonder old men! My life on it, theremust be some spell!" "No more than of old, when I was ever for book and thou for bow, " saidAmbrose; "but I'll make thee rueful for old Michael yet. Hast heardtell of the Moors in Spain?" "Moors--blackamoors who worship Mahound and Termagant. I saw ablackamoor last week behind his master, a merchant of Genoa, in Paul'sWalk. He looked like the devils in the Miracle Play at Christ Church, with blubber lips and wool for hair. I marvelled that he did not writheand flee when he came within the Minster, but Ned Burgess said he was achristened man. " "Moors be not all black, neither be they all worshippers of Mahound, "replied Ambrose. However, as Ambrose's information, though a few degrees more correct andintelligent than his brother's, was not complete, it will be better notto give the history of Lucas's strange visitors in his words. They belonged to the race of Saracen Arabs who had brought the arts oflife to such perfection in Southern Spain, but who had received thegeneral appellation of Moors from those Africans who were continuallyreinforcing them, and, bringing a certain Puritan strictness ofMohammedanism with them, had done much towards destroying the highestcultivation among them before the Spanish kingdoms became united, andfinally triumphed over them. During the long interval of two centuries, while Castille was by Italian occupied by internal wars, and Aragonconquests, there had been little aggression on the Moorish borderland, and a good deal of friendly intercourse both in the way of traffic andof courtesy, nor had the bitter persecution and distrust of new convertsthen set in, which followed the entire conquest of Granada. Thus, whenRonda was one of the first Moorish cities to surrender, a great merchantof the unrivalled sword-blades whose secret had been brought fromDamascus, had, with all his family, been accepted gladly when hedeclared himself ready to submit and receive baptism. Miguel Abenaliwas one of the sons, and though his conversion had at first been merecompliance with his father's will and the family interests, he hadbecome sufficiently convinced of Christian truth not to take part withhis own people in the final struggle. Still, however, the inbredabhorrence of idolatry had influenced his manner of worship, and when, after half a lifetime, Granada had fallen, and the Inquisition had begunto take cognisance of new Christians from among the Moors as well as theJews, there were not lacking spies to report the absence of all sacredimages or symbols from the house of the wealthy merchant, and thatneither he nor any of his family had been seen kneeling before theshrine of Nuestra Senora. The sons of Abenali did indeed feel stronglythe power of the national reaction, and revolted from the religion whichthey saw cruelly enforced on their conquered countrymen. The Moor hadbeen viewed as a gallant enemy, the Morisco was only a being to bedistrusted and persecuted; and the efforts of the good Bishop ofGranada, who had caused the Psalms, Gospels, and large portions of theBreviary to be translated into Arabic, were frustrated by the zeal ofthose who imagined that heresy lurked in the vernacular, and perhapsthat objections to popular practices might be strengthened. By order of Cardinal Ximenes, these Arabic versions were taken away andburnt; but Miguel Abenali had secured his own copy, and it was what hethere learnt that withheld him from flying to his countrymen andresuming their faith when he found that the Christianity he hadprofessed for forty years was no longer a protection to him. Havingknown the true Christ in the Gospel, he could not turn back to Mohammed, even though Christians persecuted in the Name they so little understood. The crisis came in 1507, when Ximenes, apparently impelled by the dreadthat simulated conformity should corrupt the Church, quickened thepersecution of the doubtful "Nuevos Cristianos, " and the Abenali family, who had made themselves loved and respected, received warning that theyhad been denounced, and that their only hope lay in flight. The two sons, high-spirited young men, on whom religion had far lesshold than national feeling, fled to the Alpuxarra Mountains, andrenouncing the faith of the persecutors, joined their countrymen intheir gallant and desperate warfare. Their mother, who had long beendead, had never been more than an outward Christian; but the second wifeof Abenali shared his belief and devotion with the intelligence andforce of character sometimes found among the Moorish ladies of Spain. She and her little ones fled with him in disguise to Cadiz, with theprecious Arabic Scriptures rolled round their waists, and took shelterwith an English merchant, who had had dealings in sword-blades withSenor Miguel, and had been entertained by him in his beautiful Saracenichouse at Ronda with Eastern hospitality. This he requited by givingthem the opportunity of sailing for England in a vessel laden with Xeressack; but the misery of the voyage across the Bay of Biscay in a shiplit for nothing but wine, was excessive, and creatures reared in thelovely climate and refined luxury of the land of the palm and orange, exhausted too already by the toils of the mountain journey, wereincapable of enduring it, and Abenali's brave wife and one of herchildren were left beneath the waves of the Atlantic. With the onelittle girl left to him, he arrived in London, and the recommendation ofhis Cadiz friend obtained for him work from a dealer in foreign weapons, who was not unwilling to procure them nearer home. Happily for him, Moorish masters, however rich, were always required to be proficients intheir own trade; and thus Miguel, or Michael as he was known in England, was able to maintain himself and his child by the fabrication of bladesthat no one could distinguish from those of Damascus. Their perfectionwas a work of infinite skill, labour, and industry, but they were socostly, that their price, and an occasional job of inlaying gold inother metal, sufficed to maintain the old man and his little daughter. The armourers themselves were sometimes forced to have recourse to him, though unwillingly, for he was looked on with distrust and dislike as aninterloper of foreign birth, belonging to no guild. A Biscayan orCastillian of the oldest Christian blood incurred exactly the sameobloquy from the mass of London craftsmen and apprentices, and Lucashimself had small measure of favour, though Dutchmen were less alien tothe English mind than Spaniards, and his trade did not lead to so muchrivalry and competition. As much of this as Ambrose knew or understood he told to Stephen, wholistened in a good deal of bewilderment, understanding very little, butwith a strong instinct that his brother's love of learning was leadinghim into dangerous company. And what were they doing on this fine Mayholiday, when every one ought to be out enjoying themselves? "Well, if thou wilt know, " said Ambrose, pushed hard, "there is oneMaster William Tindal, who hath been doing part of the blessed Evangelinto English, and for better certainty of its correctness, MasterMichael was comparing it with his Arabic version, while I overlooked theLatin. " "O Ambrose, thou wilt surely run into trouble. Know you not how nurseJoan used to tell us of the burning of the Lollard books?" "Nay, nay, Stevie, this is no heresy. 'Tis such work as the greatscholar, Master Erasmus, is busied on--ay, and he is loved and honouredby both the Archbishops and the King's grace. Ask Tibble Steelman whathe thinks thereof. " "Tibble Steelman would think nought of a beggarly stranger callinghimself a sword-cutler, and practising the craft without prenticeship orlicense, " said Stephen, swelling with indignation. "Come on, Ambrose, and sweep the cobwebs from thy brain. If we cannot get into our owntent again, we can mingle with the outskirts, and learn how the day isgoing, and how our lances and breastplates have stood where the knavesat the Eagle have gone like reeds and egg-shells--just as I threw GeorgeBates, the prentice at the Eagle yesterday, in a wrestling match at thebutts with the trick old Diggory taught me. " CHAPTER TWELVE. A KING IN A QUAGMIRE. "For my pastance Hunt, sing, and dance, My heart is set All godly sport To my comfort. Who shall me let?" The King's Balade, _attributed to Henry the Eighth_. Life was a rough, hearty thing in the early sixteenth century, strangelydivided between thought and folly, hardship and splendour, misery andmerriment, toil and sport. The youths in the armourer's household had experienced little of this asyet in their country life, but in London they could not but soon beginto taste both sides of the matter. Master Headley himself was a gooddeal taken up with city affairs, and left the details of his business toTibble Steelman and Kit Smallbones, though he might always appear on thescene, and he had a wonderful knowledge of what was going on. The breaking-in and training of the two new country lads was entirelyleft to them and to Edmund Burgess. Giles soon found that complaintswere of no avail, and only made matters harder for him, and that TibbleSteelman and Kit Smallbones had no notion of favouring their master'scousin. Poor fellow, he was very miserable in those first weeks. The actualtoil, to which he was an absolute novice, though nominally three yearsan apprentice, made his hands raw, and his joints full of aches, whilehis groans met with nothing but laughter; and he recognised with greatdispleasure, that more was laid on him than on Stephen Birkenholt. Thiswas partly in consideration of Stephen's youth, partly of his ready zealand cheerfulness. His hands might be sore too, but he was rather proudof it than otherwise, and his hero worship of Kit Smallbones made himrun on errands, tug at the bellows staff, or fetch whatever was calledfor with a bright alacrity that won the foremen's hearts, and it wasnoted that he who was really a gentleman, had none of the airs thatGiles Headley showed. Giles began by some amount of bullying, by way of slaking his wrath atthe preference shown for one whom he continued to style a beggarly bratpicked up on the heath; but Stephen was good-humoured, and accustomed togive and take, and they both found their level, as well in the Dragoncourt as among the world outside, where the London prentices were astrong and redoubtable body, with rude, not to say cruel, rites ofinitiation among themselves, plenty of rivalries and enmities betweenhouse and house, guild and guild, but a united, not to say ferocious, _esprit de corps_ against every one else. Fisticuffs and wrestlingswere the amenities that passed between them, though always with a loveof fair play so long as no cowardice, or what was looked on as such, wasshown, for there was no mercy for the weak or weakly. Such had betterbetake themselves at once to the cloister, or life was made intolerableby constant jeers, blows, baiting and huntings, often, it must be owned, absolutely brutal. Stephen and Giles had however passed through this ordeal. The letter toJohn Birkenholt had been despatched by a trusty clerk riding with theJudges of Assize, whom Mistress Perronel knew might be safely trusted, and who actually brought back a letter which might have emanated fromthe most affectionate of brothers, giving his authority for the bindingStephen apprentice to the worshipful Master Giles Headley, and sendingthe remainder of the boy's portion. Stephen was thereupon regularly bound apprentice to Master Headley. Itwas a solemn affair, which took place in the Armourer's Hall in ColemanStreet, before sundry witnesses. Harry Randall, in his soberest garband demeanour, acted as guardian to his nephew, and presented him, cladin the regulation prentice garb--"flat round cap, close-cut hair, narrowfalling bands, coarse side coat, close hose, cloth stockings, " coat withthe badge of the Armourers' Company, and Master Headley's own dragon'stail on the sleeve, to which was added a blue cloak marked in likemanner. The instructions to apprentices were rehearsed, beginning, "Yeshall constantly and devoutly on your knees every day serve God, morningand evening, "--pledging him to "avoid evil company, to make speedyreturn when sent on his master's business, to be fair, gentle and lowlyin speech and carriage with all men, " and the like. Mutual promises were interchanged between him and his master, Stephen onhis knees; the indentures were signed, for Quipsome Hal could with muchado produce an autograph signature, though his penmanship went nofurther, and the occasion was celebrated by a great dinner of the wholecraft at the Armourers' Hall, to which the principal craftsmen who hadbeen apprentices, such as Tibble Steelman and Kit Smallbones, wereinvited, sitting at a lower table, while the masters had the higher oneon the days, and a third was reserved for the apprentices after theyshould have waited on their masters--in fact it was an imitation of theorders of chivalry, knights, squires, and pages, and the gradation ofrank was as strictly observed as by the nobility. Giles, consideringthe feast to be entirely in his honour, though the transfer of hisindentures had been made at Salisbury, endeavoured to come out in someof his bravery, but was admonished that such presumption might bepunished, the first time, at his master's discretion, the second time, by a whipping at the Hall of his Company, and the third time by sixmonths being added to the term of his apprenticeship. Master Randall was entertained in the place of honour, where hecomported himself with great gravity, though he could not resistalarming Stephen with an occasional wink or gesture as the boyapproached in the course of the duties of waiting at the upper board--asplendid sight with cups and flagons of gold and silver, with venisonand capons and all that a City banquet could command before theinvention of the turtle. There was drinking of toasts, and among the foremost was that of Wolsey, who had freshly received his nomination of cardinal, and whose hat wason its way from Rome--and here the jester could not help betraying hisknowledge of the domestic policy of the household, and telling thecompany how it had become known that the scarlet hat was actually on theway, but in a "varlet's budget--a mere Italian common knave, no betterthan myself, " quoth Quipsome Hal, whereat his nephew trembled standingbehind his chair, forgetting that the decorous solid man in the sad-coloured gown and well-crimped ruff, neatest of Perronel's performances, was no such base comparison for any varlet. Hal went on to describe, however, how my Lord of York had instantly sent to stay the messenger onhis landing at Dover, and equip him with all manner of costly silks byway of apparel, and with attendants, such as might do justice to hisfreight, "that so, " he said, "men may not rate it but as a scarletcock's comb, since all men be but fools, and the sole question is, whoamong them hath wit enough to live by his folly. " Therewith he gave awink that so disconcerted Stephen as nearly to cause an upset of thebowl of perfumed water that he was bringing for the washing of hands. Master Headley, however, suspected nothing, and invited the grave MasterRandall to attend the domestic festival on the presentation of poorSpring's effigy at the shrine of Saint Julian. This was to take placeearly in the morning of the 14th of September, Holy Cross Day, the lastholiday in the year that had any of the glory of summer about it, and onwhich the apprentices claimed a prescriptive right to go out nutting inSaint John's Wood, and to carry home their spoil to the lasses of theiracquaintance. Tibble Steelman had completed the figure in bronze, with a silver collarand chain, not quite without protest that the sum had better have beenbestowed in alms. But from his master's point of view this would havebeen giving to a pack of lying beggars and thieves what was due to theholy saint; no one save Tibble, who could do and say what he chose, could have ventured on a word of remonstrance on such a subject; and asthe full tide of iconoclasm, consequent on the discovery of the originalwording of the second commandment, had not yet set in, Tibble had nomore conscientious scruple against making the figure, than in moulding alittle straight-tailed lion for Lord Harry Percy's helmet. So the party in early morning heard their mass, and then, repairing toSaint Julian's pillar, while the rising sun came peeping through the loweastern window of the vaulted Church of Saint Faith, Master Headley onhis knees gave thanks for his preservation, and then put forward hislittle daughter, holding on her joined hands the figure of poor Spring, couchant, and beautifully modelled in bronze with all Tibble's bestskill. Hal Randall and Ambrose had both come up from the little home wherePerronel presided, for the hour was too early for the jester's absenceto be remarked in the luxurious household of the Cardinal elect, and heeven came to break his fast afterwards at the Dragon court, and heldsuch interesting discourse with old Dame Headley on the farthingales andcoifs of Queen Katharine and her ladies, that she pronounced him a manwondrous wise and understanding, and declared Stephen happy in thepossession of such a kinsman. "And whither away now, youngsters?" he said, as he rose from table. "To Saint John's Wood! The good greenwood, uncle, " said Ambrose. "Thou too, Ambrose?" said Stephen joyfully. "For once away from thineink and thy books!" "Ay, " said Ambrose, "mine heart warms to the woodlands once more. Uncle, would that thou couldst come. " "Would that I could, boy! We three would show these lads of Cockaynewhat three foresters know of wood-craft! But it may not be. Were Ionce there, the old blood might stir again and I might bring you intotrouble, and ye have not two faces under one hood as I have! So fare yewell, I wish you many a bagful of nuts!" The four months of city life, albeit the City was little bigger than ourmoderate sized country towns, and far from being an unbroken mass ofhouses, had yet made the two young foresters delighted to enjoy a day ofthorough country in one another's society. Little Dennet longed to gowith them, but the prentice world was far too rude for little maidens tobe trusted in it, and her father held out hopes of going one of thesedays to High Park as he called it, while Edmund and Stephen promised herall their nuts, and as many blackberries as could be held in their flatcaps. "Giles has promised me none, " said Dennet, with a pouting lip, "norAmbrose. " "Why sure, little mistress, thou'lt have enough to crack thy teeth on!"said Edmund Burgess. "They _ought_ to bring theirs to me, " returned the little heiress of theDragon court with an air of offended dignity that might have suited theheiress of the kingdom. Giles, who looked on Dennet as a kind of needful appendage to theDragon, a piece of property of his own, about whom he need take notrouble, merely laughed and said, "Want must be thy master then. " ButAmbrose treated her petulance in another fashion. "Look here, prettymistress, " said he, "there dwells by me a poor little maid nigh aboutthine age, who never goeth further out than to Saint Paul's minster, norplucketh flower, nor hath sweet cake, nor manchet bread, nor sugar-stick, nay, and scarce ever saw English hazel-nut nor blackberry. 'Tisfor her that I want to gather them. " "Is she thy master's daughter?" demanded Dennet, who could admit theclaims of another princess. "Nay, my master hath no children, but she dwelleth near him. " "I will send her some, and likewise of mine own comfits and cakes, " saidMistress Dennet. "Only thou must bring all to me first. " Ambrose laughed and said, "It's a bargain then, little mistress?" "I keep my word, " returned Dennet marching away, while Ambrose obeyed asummons from good-natured Mistress Headley to have his wallet filledwith bread and cheese like those of her own prentices. Off went the lads under the guidance of Edmund Burgess, meeting partiesof their own kind at every turn, soon leaving behind them the Citybounds, as they passed under New Gate, and by and by skirting the fieldsof the great Carthusian monastery, or Charter House, with the burial-ground given by Sir Walter Manny at the time of the Black Death. Beyondcame marshy ground through which they had to pick their way carefully, over stepping-stones--this being no other than what is now the Regent'sPark, not yet in any degree drained by the New River, but all quakingground, overgrown with rough grass and marsh-plants, through whichStephen and Ambrose bounded by the help of stout poles with feet andeyes well used to bogs, and knowing where to look for a safe footing, while many a flat-capped London lad floundered about and sank over hisyellow ankles or left his shoes behind him, while lapwings shrieked pee-wheet, and almost flapped him with their broad wings, and moorhens divedin the dark pools, and wild ducks rose in long families. Stephen was able to turn the laugh against his chief adversary andrival, George Bates of the Eagle, who proposed seeking for the lapwing'snest in hopes of a dainty dish of plovers' eggs; being too great acockney to remember that in September the contents of the eggs wereprobably flying over the heather, as well able to shift for themselvesas their parents. Above all things the London prentices were pugnacious, but as every onejoined in the laugh against George, and he was, besides, stuck fast on aquaking tussock of grass, afraid to proceed or advance, he could nothave his revenge. And when the slough was passed, and the slight riseleading to the copse of Saint John's Wood was attained, behold, it wasfound to be in possession of the lower sort of lads, the black guard asthey were called. They were of course quite as ready to fight with theprentices as the prentices were with them, and a battle royal tookplace, all along the front of the hazel bushes--in which Stephen of theDragon and George of the Eagle fought side by side. Sticks and fistswere the weapons, and there were no very severe casualties before theprentices, being the larger number as well as the stouter and betterfed, had routed their adversaries, and driven them off towards Harrow. There was crackling of boughs and filling of bags, and cracking of nuts, and wild cries in pursuit of startled hare or rabbit, and though Ambroseand Stephen indignantly repelled the idea of Saint John's Wood beingnamed in the same day with their native forest, it is doubtful whetherthey had ever enjoyed themselves more; until just as they were about toturn homeward, whether moved by his hostility to Stephen, or by envy atthe capful of juicy blackberries, carefully covered with green leaves, George Bates, rushing up from behind, shouted out, "Here's a skulker!Here's one of the black guard! Off to thy fellows, varlet!" at the sametime dealing a dexterous blow under the cap, which sent the blackberriesup into Ambrose's face. "Ha! ha!" shouted the ill-conditioned fellow. "So much for a knave that serves rascally strangers! Here! hand overthat bag of nuts!" Ambrose was no fighter, but in defence of the bag that was to purchase atreat for little Aldonza, he clenched his fists, and bade George Batescome and take them if he would. The quiet scholarly boy was, however, no match for the young armourer, and made but poor reply to the buffetsof his adversary, who had hold of the bag, and was nearly choking himwith the string round his neck. However, Stephen had already missed his brother, and turning round, shouted out that the villain Bates was mauling him, and rushed back, falling on Ambrose's assailant with a sudden well-directed pommellingthat made him hastily turn about, with cries of "Two against one!" "Not at all, " said Stephen. "Stand by, Ambrose; I'll give the cowardhis deserts. " In fact, though the boys were nearly of a size, George somewhat thebiggest, Stephen's country activity, and perhaps the higher spirit ofhis gentle blood, generally gave him the advantage, and on this occasionhe soon reduced Bates to roar for mercy. "Thou must purchase it!" said Stephen. "Thy bag of nuts, in return forthe berries thou hast wasted!" Peaceable Ambrose would have remonstrated, but Stephen was implacable. He cut the string, and captured the bag, then with a parting kick badeBates go after his comrades, for his Eagle was nought but a thievingkite. Bates made off pretty quickly, but the two brothers tarried a little tosee how much damage the blackberries had suffered, and to repair thelosses as they descended into the bog by gathering some choicedewberries. "I marvel these fine fellows 'scaped our company, " said Stephenpresently. "Are we in the right track, thinkst thou? Here is a pool I marked notbefore, " said Ambrose anxiously. "Nay, we can't be far astray while we see Saint Paul's spire and theTower full before us, " said Stephen. "Plainer marks than we had athome. " "That may be. Only where is the safe footing?" said Ambrose. "I wishwe had not lost sight of the others!" "Pish! what good are a pack of City lubbers!" returned Stephen. "Don'twe know a quagmire when we see one, better than they do?" "Hark, they are shouting for us. " "Not they! That's a falconer's call. There's another whistle! See, there's the hawk. She's going down the wind, as I'm alive, " and Stephenbegan to bound wildly along, making all the sounds and calls by whichfalcons were recalled, and holding up as a lure a lapwing which he hadknocked down. Ambrose, by no means so confident in bog-trotting as hisbrother, stood still to await him, hearing the calls and shouts of thefalconer coming nearer, and presently seeing a figure, flying by thehelp of a pole over the pools and dykes that here made some attempt atdraining the waste. Suddenly, in mid career over one of these broadditches, there was a collapse, and a lusty shout for help as the formdisappeared. Ambrose instantly perceived what had happened, the leapingpole had broken to the downfall of its owner. Forgetting all his doubtsas to bogholes and morasses, he grasped his own pole, and sprang fromtussock to tussock, till he had reached the bank of the ditch or water-course in which the unfortunate sportsman was floundering. He was alarge, powerful man, but this was of no avail, for the slough affordedno foothold. The further side was a steep bank built up of sods, thenearer sloped down gradually, and though it was not apparently verydeep, the efforts of the victim to struggle out had done nothing butchurn up a mass of black muddy water in which he sank deeper everymoment, and it was already nearly to his shoulders when with a cry ofjoy, half choked however, by the mud, he cried, "Ha! my good lad! Arethere any more of ye?" "Not nigh, I fear, " said Ambrose, beholding with some dismay the breadthof the shoulders which were all that appeared above the turbid water. "Soh! Lie down, boy, behind that bunch of osier. Hold out thy pole. Let me see thine hands. Thou art but a straw, but, our Lady be myspeed! Now hangs England on a pair of wrists!" There was a great struggle, an absolute effort for life, and but for theosier stump Ambrose would certainly have been dragged into the water, when the man had worked along the pole, and grasping his hands, pulledhimself upwards. Happily the sides of the dyke became harder higher up, and did not instantly yield to the pressure of his knees, and by thetime Ambrose's hands and shoulders felt nearly wrenched from theirsockets, the stem of the osier had been attained, and in another minute, the rescued man, bareheaded, plastered with mud, and streaming withwater, sat by him on the bank, panting, gasping, and trying to gatherbreath and clear his throat from the mud he had swallowed. "Thanks, good lad, well done, " he articulated. "Those fellows! whereare they?" And feeling in his bosom, he brought out a gold whistlesuspended by a chain. "Blow it, " he said, taking off the chain, "mymouth is too full of slime. " Ambrose blew a loud shrill call, but it seemed to reach no one butStephen, whom he presently saw dashing towards them. "Here is my brother coming, sir, " he said, as he gave his endeavours tohelp the stranger to free himself from the mud that clung to him, andwhich was in some places thick enough to be scraped off with a knife. He kept up a continual interchange of exclamations at his plight, whistles and shouts for his people, and imprecations on their tardiness, until Stephen was near enough to show that the hawk had been recovered, and then he joyfully called out, "Ha! hast thou got her? Why, flat-capsas ye are, ye put all my fellows to shame! How now, thou errant bird, dost know thy master, or take him for a mud wall? Kite that thou art, to have led me such a dance! And what's your name, my brave lads? Yemust have been bred to wood-craft. " Ambrose explained both their parentage and their present occupation, butwas apparently heeded but little. "Wot ye how to get out of thisquagmire?" was the question. "I never was here before, sir, " said Stephen; "but yonder lies theTower, and if we keep along by this dyke, it must lead us outsomewhere. " "Well said, boy, I must be moving, or the mud will dry on me, and Ishall stand here as though I were turned to stone by the Gorgon's head!So have with thee! Go on first, master hawk-tamer. What will bear theewill bear me!" There was an imperative tone about him that surprised the brothers, andAmbrose looking at him from head to foot, felt sure that it was somegreat man at the least, whom it had been his hap to rescue. Indeed, hebegan to have further suspicions when they came to a pool of clearerwater, beyond which was firmer ground, and the stranger with anexclamation of joy, borrowed Stephen's cap, and, scooping up the waterwith it, washed his face and head, disclosing the golden hair and beard, fair complexion, and handsome square face he had seen more than oncebefore. He whispered to Stephen, "'Tis the King!" "Ha! ha!" laughed Henry, "hast found him out, lads? Well, it may not bethe worse for ye. Pity thou shouldst not be in the Forest still, myyoung falconer, but we know our good city of London too well to breakthy indentures. And thou--" He was turning to Ambrose when further shouts were heard. The Kinghallooed, and bade the boys do so, and in a few moments more they weresurrounded by the rest of the hawking party, full of dismay at theking's condition, and deprecating his anger for having lost him. "Yea, " said Henry; "an it had not been for this good lad, ye would neverhave heard more of the majesty of England! Swallowed in a quagmire hadmade a new end for a king, and ye would have to brook the little Scot. " The gentlemen who had come up were profuse in lamentations. A horse wasbrought up for the king's use, and he prepared to mount, being in hasteto get into dry clothes. He turned round, however, to the boys, andsaid, "I'll not forget you, my lads. Keep that!" he added, as Ambrose, on his knee, would have given him back the whistle, "'tis a token thatmaybe will serve thee, for I shall know it again. And thou, my black-eyed lad--My purse, Howard!" He handed the purse to Stephen--a velvet bag richly wrought with gold, and containing ten gold angels, besides smaller money--bidding themdivide, like good brothers as he saw they were, and then galloped offwith his train. Twilight was coming on, but following in the direction of the riders, the boys were soon on the Islington road. The New Gate was shut by thetime they reached it, and their explanation that they were belated aftera nutting expedition would not have served them, had not Stephenproduced the sum of twopence which softened the surliness of the guard. It was already dark, and though curfew had not yet sounded, preparationswere making for lighting the watch-fires in the open spaces and throwingchains across the streets, but the little door in the Dragon court wasopen, and Ambrose went in with his brother to deliver up his nuts toDennet and claim her promise of sending a share to Aldonza. They found their uncle in his sober array sitting by Master Headley, whowas rating Edmund and Giles for having lost sight of them, the latterexcusing himself by grumbling out that he could not be marking allStephen's brawls with George Bates. When the two wanderers appeared, relief took the form of anger, andthere were sharp demands why they had loitered. Their story waslistened to with many exclamations: Dennet jumped for joy, hergrandmother advised that the angels should be consigned to her own safekeeping, and when Master Headley heard of Henry's scruples about theindentures, he declared that it was a rare wise king who knew that anhonest craft was better than court favour. "Yet mayhap he might do something for thee, friend Ambrose, " added thearmourer. "Commend thee to some post in his chapel royal, or put theeinto some college, since such is thy turn. How sayst thou, MasterRandall, shall he send in this same token, and make his petition?" "If a fool--if a plain man may be heard where the wise hath spoken, "said Randall, "he had best abstain. Kings love not to be minded ofmishaps, and our Hal's humour is not to be reckoned on! Lay up the toyin case of need, but an thou claim overmuch he may mind thee in afashion not to thy taste. " "Sure our King is of a more generous mould!" exclaimed Mrs Headley. "He is like other men, good mistress, just as you know how to have him, and he is scarce like to be willing to be minded of the taste of mire, or of floundering like a hog in a salt marsh. Ha! ha!" and Quipsome Halwent off into such a laugh as might have betrayed his identity to anyone more accustomed to the grimaces of his professional character, butwhich only infected the others with the same contagious merriment. "Come thou home now, " he said to Ambrose; "my good woman hath been in amortal fright about thee, and would have me come out to seek after thee. Such are the women folk, Master Headley. Let them have but a lad tolook after, and they'll bleat after him like an old ewe that has losther lamb. " Ambrose only stayed for Dennet to divide the spoil, and though theblackberries had all been lost or crushed, the little maiden kept herpromise generously, and filled the bag not only with nuts but with threered-cheeked apples, and a handful of comfits, for the poor little maidwho never tasted fruit or sweets. CHAPTER THIRTEEN. A LONDON HOLIDAY. "Up then spoke the apprentices tall Living in London, one and all. " _Old Ballad_. Another of the many holidays of the Londoners was enjoyed on theoccasion of the installation of Thomas Wolsey as Cardinal of SaintCecilia, and Papal Legate. A whole assembly of prelates and "lusty gallant gentlemen" rode out toBlackheath to meet the Roman envoy, who, robed in full splendour, withSaint Peter's keys embroidered on back and breast and on the housings ofhis mule, appeared at the head of a gallant train in the papal liveries, two of whom carried the gilded pillars, the insignia of office, and twomore, a scarlet and gold-covered box or casket containing the Cardinal'shat. Probably no such reception of the dignity was ever preparedelsewhere, and all was calculated to give magnificent ideas of theoffice of Cardinal and of the power of the Pope to those who had notbeen let into the secret that the messenger had been met at Dover; andthus magnificently fitted out to satisfy the requirements of thebutcher's son of Ipswich, and of one of the most ostentatious of courts. Old Gaffer Martin Fulford had muttered in his bed that such pomp had notbeen the way in the time of the true old royal blood, and that displayhad come in with the upstart slips of the Red Rose--as he still chose tostyle the Tudors; and he maundered away about the beauty and affabilityof Edward the Fourth till nobody could understand him, and Perronel onlythrew in her "ay, grandad, " or "yea, gaffer, " when she thought it wasexpected of her. Ambrose had an unfailing appetite for the sermons of Dean Colet, who wasto preach on this occasion in Westminster Abbey, and his uncle had givenhim counsel how to obtain standing ground there, entering before theprocession. He was alone, his friends Tibble and Lucas both had thatpart of the Lollard temper which loathed the pride and wealth of thegreat political clergy, and in spite of their admiration for the Deanthey could not quite forgive his taking part in the pomp of such araree-show. But Ambrose's devotion to the Dean, to say nothing of youthfulcuriosity, outweighed all those scruples, and as he listened, he wascarried along by the curious sermon in which the preacher likened theorders of the hierarchy below to that of the nine orders of the Angels, making the rank of Cardinal correspond to that of the Seraphim, aglowwith love. Of that holy flame, the scarlet robes were the type to thespiritualised mind of Colet, while others saw in them only the relic ofthe imperial purple of old Rome; and some beheld them as the token thatWolsey was one step nearer the supreme height that he coveted soearnestly. But the great and successful man found himself personallyaddressed, bidden not to be puffed up with his own greatness, andstringently reminded of the highest example of humility, shown that hethat exalteth himself shall be abased, and he that humbleth himself beexalted. The preacher concluded with a strong personal exhortation todo righteousness and justice alike to rich and poor, joined with truthand mercy, setting God always before him. The sermon ended, Wolsey knelt at the altar, and Archbishop Wareham, who, like his immediate predecessors, held legatine authority, performedthe act of investiture, placing the scarlet hat with its many loops andtassels on his brother primate's head, after which a magnificent _TeDeum_ rang through the beautiful church, and the procession of prelates, peers, and ecclesiastics of all ranks in their richest array formed toescort the new Cardinal to banquet at his palace with the King andQueen. Ambrose, stationed by a column, let the throng rush, tumble, and jostleone another to behold the show, till the Abbey was nearly empty, whilehe tried to work out the perplexing question whether all this pomp andsplendour were truly for the glory of God, or whether it were a delusionfor the temptation of men's souls. It was a debate on which his old andhis new guides seemed to him at issue, and he was drawn in bothdirections--now by the beauty, order, and deep symbolism of the Catholicritual, now by the spirituality and earnestness of the men among whom helived. At one moment the worldly pomp, the mechanical and irreverentworship, and the gross and vicious habits of many of the clergy repelledhim; at another the reverence and conservatism of his nature held himfast. Presently he felt a hand on his shoulder, and started, "Lost in a stud, as we say at home, boy, " said the jester, resplendent in a bran newmotley suit. "Wilt come in to the banquet? 'Tis open house, and I canfind thee a seat without disclosing the kinship that sits so sore on thybrother. Where is he?" "I have not seen him this day. " "That did I, " returned Randall, "as I rode by on mine ass. He wasruffling it so lustily that I could not but give him a wink, the whichmy gentleman could by no means stomach! Poor lad! Yet there be times, Ambrose, when I feel in sooth that mine office is the only honourableone, since who besides can speak truth? I love my lord; he is a kind, open-handed master, and there's none I would so willingly serve, whetherby jest or earnest, but what is he but that which I oft call him injoke--the greater fool than I, selling peace and ease, truth and hope, this life and the next, for yonder scarlet hat, which is after all of nomore worth than this jingling head-gear of mine. " "Deafening the spiritual ears far more, it may be, " said Ambrose, "since_humiles exaltaverint_. " It was no small shock that there, in the midst of the nave, the answerwas a bound, like a ball, almost as high as the capital of the column bywhich they stood. "There's exaltation!" said Randall in a low voice, and Ambrose perceived that some strangers were in sight. "Come, seekthy brother out, boy, and bring him to the banquet. I'll speak a wordto Peter Porter, and he'll let you in. There'll be plenty of foolingall the afternoon, before my namesake King Hal, who can afford to be anhonester man in his fooling than any about him, and whose laugh at ahearty jest is goodly to hear. " Ambrose thanked him and undertook the quest. They parted at the greatwest door of the Abbey, where, by way of vindicating his own characterfor buffoonery, Randall exclaimed, "Where be mine ass?" and not seeingthe animal, immediately declared, "There he is!" and at the same timesprang upon the back and shoulders of a gaping and astonished clown whowas gazing at the rear of the procession. The crowd applauded with shouts of coarse laughter, but a man, whoseemed to belong to the victim, broke in with an angry oath, and "Hownow, sir?" "I cry you mercy, " quoth the jester; "'twas mine own ass I sought, andif I have fallen on thine, I will but ride him to York House and thenrestore him. So ho! good jackass, " crossing his ankles on the poorfellow's chest so that he could not be shaken off. The comrade lifted a cudgel, but there was a general cry of "My LordCardinal's jester, lay not a finger on him!" But Harry Randall was not one to brook immunity on the score of hismaster's greatness. In another second he was on his feet, had wrestedthe staff from the hands of his astounded beast of burden, flourished itround his head after the most approved manner of Shirley champions atLyndhurst fair, and called to his adversary to "come on. " It did not take many rounds before Hal's dexterity had floored hisadversary, and the shouts of "Well struck, merry fool!" "Well played, Quipsome Hal!" were rising high when the Abbot of Westminster's yeomenwere seen making way through the throng, which fell back in terror oneither side as they came to seize on the brawlers in their sacredprecincts. But here again my Lord Cardinal's fool was a privileged person, and noone laid a hand on him, though his blood being up, he would, spite ofhis gay attire, have enjoyed a fight on equal terms. His quadrupeddonkey was brought up to him amid general applause, but when he lookedround for Ambrose, the boy had disappeared. The better and finer the nature that displayed itself in Randall, themore painful was the sight of his buffooneries to his nephew, and at thefirst leap, Ambrose had hurried away in confusion. He sought hisbrother here, there, everywhere, and at last came to the conclusion thatStephen must have gone home to dinner. He walked quickly across thefields separating Westminster from the City of London, hoping to reachCheapside before the lads of the Dragon should have gone out again; butjust as he was near Saint Paul's, coming round Amen Corner, he heard thesounds of a fray. "Have at the country lubbers! Away with themoonrakers! Flat-caps, come on!" "Hey! lads of the Eagle! Down withthe Dragons! Adders! Snakes-s-s-s-s-!" There was a kicking, struggling mass of blue backs and yellow legsbefore him, from out of which came "Yah! Down with the Eagles!Cowards! Kites! Cockneys!" There were plenty of boys, men, women withchildren in their arms hallooing on, "Well done, Eagle!" "Go it, Dragon!" The word Dragon filled the quiet Ambrose with hot impulse to defend hisbrother. All his gentle, scholarly habits gave way before that cry, anda shout that he took to be Stephen's voice in the midst of the _melee_. He was fairly carried out of himself, and doubling his fists, fell onthe back of the nearest boys, intending to break through to his brother, and he found an unexpected ally. Will Wherry's voice called out, "Havewith you, comrade!"--and a pair of hands and arms considerably stouterand more used to fighting than his own, began to pommel right and leftwith such good will that they soon broke through to the aid of theirfriends; and not before it was time, for Stephen, Giles, and Edmund, with their backs against the wall, were defending themselves with alltheir might against tremendous odds; and just as the new allies reachedthem, a sharp stone struck Giles in the eye, and levelled him with theground, his head striking against the wall. Whether it were from alarmat his fall, or at the unexpected attack in the rear, or probably fromboth causes, the assailants dispersed in all directions without waitingto perceive how slender the succouring force really was. Edmund and Stephen were raising up the unlucky Giles, who lay quiteinsensible, with blood pouring from his eye. Ambrose tried to wipe itaway, and there were anxious doubts whether the eye itself were safe. They were some way from home, and Giles was the biggest and heaviest ofthem all. "Would that Kit Smallbones were here!" said Stephen, preparing to takethe feet, while Edmund took the shoulders. "Look here, " said Will Wherry, pulling Ambrose's sleeve, "our yard ismuch nearer, and the old Moor, Master Michael, is safe to know what todo for him. That sort of cattle always are leeches. He wiled the painfrom my thumb when 'twas crushed in our printing-press. Mayhap if heput some salve to him, he might get home on his own feet. " Edmund listened. "There's reason in that, " he said. "Dost know thisleech, Ambrose?" "I know him well. He is a good old man, and wondrous wise. Nay, noblack arts; but he saith his folk had great skill in herbs and the like, and though he be no physician by trade, he hath much of their lore. " "Have with thee, then, " returned Edmund, "the rather that Giles is nosmall weight, and the guard might come on us ere we reached the Dragon. " "Or those cowardly rogues of the Eagle might set on us again, " addedStephen; and as they went on their way to Warwick Inner Ward, heexplained that the cause of the encounter had been that Giles hadthought fit to prank himself in his father's silver chain, and thusGeorge Bates, always owing the Dragon a grudge, and rendered speciallymalicious since the encounter on Holy Rood Day, had raised the cryagainst him, and caused all the flat-caps around to make a rush at thegaud as lawful prey. "'Tis clean against prentice statutes to wear one, is it not?" askedAmbrose. "Ay, " returned Stephen; "yet none of us but would stand up for our owncomrade against those meddling fellows of the Eagle. " "But, " added Edmund, "we must beware the guard, for if they looked intothe cause of the fray, our master might be called on to give Giles awhipping in the Company's hall, this being a second offence of goingabroad in these vanities. " Ambrose went on before to prepare Miguel Abenali, and entreat his goodoffices, explaining that the youth's master, who was also his kinsman, would be sure to give handsome payment for any good offices to him. Hescarcely got out half the words; the grand old Arab waved his hand andsaid, "When the wounded is laid before the tent of Ben Ali, where is thequestion of recompense? Peace be with thee, my son! Bring him hither. Aldonza, lay the carpet yonder, and the cushions beneath the window, where I may have light to look to his hurt. " Therewith he murmured a few words in an unknown tongue, which, asAmbrose understood, were an invocation to the God of Abraham to blesshis endeavours to heal the stranger youth, but which happily were spokenbefore the arrival of the others, who would certainly have believed theman incantation. The carpet though worn threadbare, was a beautiful old Moorish rug, onceglowing with brilliancy, and still rich in colouring, and the cushionwas of thick damask faded to a strange pale green. All in that double-stalled partition, once belonging to the great earl's war-horses, wasscrupulously clean, for the Christian Moor had retained some of thepeculiar virtues born of Mohammedanism and of high civilisation. Theapprentice lads tramped in much as if they had been entering a wizard'scave, though Stephen had taken care to assure Edmund of his applicationof the test of holy water. Following the old man's directions, Edmund and Stephen deposited theirburden on the rug. Aldonza brought some warm water, and Abenali washedand examined the wound, Aldonza standing by and handing him whatever heneeded, now and then assisting with her slender brown hands in a mannerastonishing to the youths, who stood by anxious and helpless, whiletheir companion began to show signs of returning life. Abenali pronounced that the stone had missed the eyeball, but the cutand bruise were such as to require constant bathing, and the blow on thehead was the more serious matter, for when the patient tried to raisehimself he instantly became sick and giddy, so that it would be wise toleave him where he was. This was much against the will of EdmundBurgess, who shared all the prejudices of the English prentice againstthe foreigner--perhaps a wizard and rival in trade; but there was nohelp for it, and he could only insist that Stephen should mount guardover the bed until he had reported to his master, and returned with hisorders. Therewith he departed, with such elaborate thanks andcourtesies to the host, as betrayed a little alarm in the tallapprentice, who feared not quarter-staff, nor wrestler, and had evendauntlessly confronted the masters of his guild! Stephen, sooth to say, was not very much at ease; everything around hadsuch a strange un-English aspect, and he imploringly muttered, "Bidewith me, Am!" to which his brother willingly assented, being quite ascomfortable in Master Michael's abode as by his aunt's own hearth. Giles meanwhile lay quiet and then, as his senses became less confused, and he could open one eye, he looked dreamily about him, and presentlybegan to demand where he was, and what had befallen him, grasping at thehand of Ambrose as if to hold fast by something familiar; but he stillseemed too much dazed to enter into the explanation, and presentlymurmured something about thirst. Aldonza came softly up with a cup ofsomething cool. He looked very hard at her, and when Ambrose would havetaken it from her hand to give it to him, he said, "Nay! _Site_!" And _site_, with a sweet smile in her soft, dark, shady eyes, and on herfull lips, held the cup to his lips far more daintily and dexterouslythan either of his boy companions could have done; then when he moanedand said his head and eye pained him, the white-bearded elder came andbathed his brow with the soft sponge. It seemed all to pass before himlike a dream, and it was not much otherwise with his unhurt companions, especially Stephen, who followed with wonder the movements made by theslippered feet of father and daughter upon the mats which covered thestone flooring of the old stable. The mats were only of English rushesand flags, and had been woven by Abenali and the child; but loose rashesstrewing the floor were accounted a luxury in the Forest, and even atthe Dragon court the upper end of the hall alone had any covering. Thenthe water was heated, and all such other operations carried on over acurious round vessel placed over charcoal; the window and the door haddark heavy curtains; and a matted partition cut off the further stall, no doubt to serve as Aldonza's chamber. Stephen looked about forsomething to assure him that the place belonged to no wizard enchanter, and was glad to detect a large white cross on the wall, with a holy-water stoup beneath it, but of images there were none. It seemed to him a long time before Master Headley's ruddy face, full ofanxiety, appeared at the door. Blows were, of course, no uncommon matter; perhaps so long as nopermanent injury was inflicted, the master-armourer had no objection toanything that might knock the folly out of his troublesome young inmate;but Edmund had made him uneasy for the youth's eye, and still more soabout the quarters he was in, and he had brought a mattress and a coupleof men to carry the patient home, as well as Steelman, his primeminister, to advise him. He had left all these outside, however, and advanced, civilly andcondescendingly thanking the sword-cutler, in perfect ignorance that theman who stood before him had been born to a home that was an absolutepalace compared with the Dragon court. The two men were a curiouscontrast. There stood the Englishman with his sturdy form inclining, with age, to corpulence, his broad honest face telling of many a civicbanquet, and his short stubbly brown grizzled beard; his whole airgiving a sense of worshipful authority and weight; and opposite to himthe sparely made, dark, thin, aquiline-faced, white-bearded Moor, a farsmaller man in stature, yet with a patriarchal dignity, refinement, andgrace in port and countenance, belonging as it were to another sphere. Speaking English perfectly, though with a foreign accent, Abenaliinformed Master Headley that his young kinsman would by Heaven'sblessing soon recover without injury to the eye, though perhaps a scarmight remain. Mr Headley thanked him heartily for his care, and said that he hadbrought men to carry the youth home, if he could not walk; and then hewent up to the couch with a hearty "How now, Giles? So thou hast hadhard measure to knock the foolery out of thee, my poor lad. But come, we'll have thee home, and my mother will see to thee. " "I cannot walk, " said Giles, heavily, hardly raising his eyes, and whenhe was told that two of the men waited to bear him home, he onlyentreated to be let alone. Somewhat sharply, Mr Headley ordered him tosit up and make ready, but when he tried to do so, he sank back with areturn of sickness and dizziness. Abenali thereupon intreated that he might be left to his care for thatnight, and stepping out into the court so as to be unheard by thepatient, explained that the brain had had a shock, and that perfectquiet for some hours to come was the only way to avert a seriousillness, possibly dangerous. Master Headley did not like thealternative at all, and was a good deal perplexed. He beckoned toTibble Steelman, who had all this time been talking to Lucas Hansen, andnow came up prepared with his testimony that this Michael was a good manand true, a godly one to boot, who had been wealthy in his own land andwas a rare artificer in his own craft. "Though he hath no license to practise it here, " threw in MasterHeadley, _sotto voce_; but he accepted the assurance that Michael was agood Christian, and, with his daughter, regularly went to mass; andsince better might not be, he reluctantly consented to leave Giles underhis treatment, on Lucas reiterating the assurance that he need have nofears of magic or foul play of any sort. He then took the purse thathung at his girdle, and declared that Master Michael, (the title ofcourtesy was wrung from him by the stately appearance of the old man), must be at no charges for his cousin. But Abenali with a grace that removed all air of offence from hismanner, returned thanks for the intention, but declared that it neverwas the custom of the sons of Ali to receive reward for the hospitalitythey exercised to the stranger within their gates. And so it was thatMaster Headley, a good deal puzzled, had to leave his apprentice underthe roof of the old sword-cutler for the night at least. "'Tis passing strange, " said he, as he walked back; "I know not what mymother will say, but I wish all may be right. I feel--I feel as if Ihad left the lad Giles with Abraham under the oak tree, as we saw him inthe miracle play!" This description did not satisfy Mrs Headley, indeed she feared thather son was likewise bewitched; and when, the next morning, Stephen, whohad been sent to inquire for the patient, reported him better, but stillunable to be moved, since he could not lift his head without sickness, she became very anxious. Giles was transformed in her estimate from across-grained slip to poor Robin Headley's boy, the only son of a widow, and nothing would content her but to make her son conduct her to WarwickInner Ward to inspect matters, and carry thither a precious relicwarranted proof against all sorcery. It was with great trepidation that the good old dame ventured, but theresult was that she was fairly subdued by Abenali's patriarchal dignity. She had never seen any manners to equal his, not _even_ when KingEdward the Fourth had come to her father's house at the Barbican, chucked her under the chin, and called her a dainty duck! It was Aldonza, however, who specially touched her feelings. Such asweet little wench, with the air of being bred in a kingly or knightlycourt, to be living there close to the very dregs of the city was ascandal and a danger--speaking so prettily too, and knowing how to treather elders. She would be a good example for Dennet, who, sooth to say, was getting too old for spoilt-child sauciness to be always pleasing, while as to Giles, he could not be in better quarters. Mrs Headley, well used to the dressing of the burns and bruises incurred in theweapon-smiths' business, could not but confess that his eye had beendealt with as skilfully as she could have done it herself. CHAPTER FOURTEEN. THE KNIGHT OF THE BADGER. "I am a gentleman of a company. " Shakespeare. Giles Headley's accident must have amounted to concussion of the brain, for though he was able to return to the Dragon in a couple of days, andthe cut over his eye was healing fast, he was weak and shaken, and didnot for several weeks recover his usual health. The noise and heat of the smithy were distressing to him, and there wasno choice but to let him lie on settles, sun himself on the steps, andattempt no work. It had tamed him a good deal. Smallbones said the letting out ofmalapert blood was wholesome, and others thought him still under aspell; but he seemed to have parted with much of his arrogance, eitherbecause he had not spirits for self-assertion, or because something ofthe grand eastern courtesy of Abenali had impressed him. Forintercourse with the Morisco had by no means ceased. Giles went, aslong as the injury required it, to have the hurt dressed, and loiteredin the Inner Ward a long time every day, often securing some smalldainty for Aldonza--an apple, a honey cake, a bit of marchpane, a driedplum, or a comfit. One day he took her a couple of oranges. To hissurprise, as he entered, Abenali looked up with a strange light in hiseyes, and exclaimed, "My son! thy scent is to my nostrils as the courtof my fathouse!" Then, as he beheld the orange, he clasped his hands, took it in them, and held it to his breast, pouring out a chant in anunknown tongue, while the tears flowed down his cheeks. "Father, father!" Aldonza cried, terrified, while Giles marvelledwhether the orange worked on him like a spell. But he perceived theiramazement, and spoke again in English, "I thank thee, my son! Thou hastborne me back for a moment to the fountain in my father's house, whereye grow, ye trees of the unfading leaf, the spotless blossom, and goldenfruit! Ah Ronda! Ronda! Land of the sunshine, the deep blue sky, andsnow-topped hills! Land where are the graves of my father and mother!How pines and sickens the heart of the exile for thee! O happy they whodied beneath the sword or flame, for they knew not the lonely home-longing of the exile. Ah! ye golden fruits! One fragrant breath ofthee is as a waft of the joys of my youth! Are ye foretastes of thefruits of Paradise, the true home to which I may yet come, though I maynever, never see the towers and hills of Ronda more?" Giles knew not what to make of this outburst. He kept it to himself astoo strange to be told. The heads of the family were willing that heshould carry these trifles to the young child of the man who wouldaccept no reward for his hospitality. Indeed, Master Headley spent muchconsideration on how to recompense the care bestowed on his kinsman. Giles suggested that Master Michael had just finished the most beautifulsword blade he had ever seen, and had not yet got a purchaser for it; itwas far superior to the sword Tibble had just completed for my Lord ofSurrey. Thereat the whole court broke into an outcry; that any workmanshould be supposed to turn out any kind of work surpassing Steelman'swas rank heresy, and Master Headley bluntly told Giles that he knew notwhat he was talking of! He might perhaps purchase the blade by way ofcourtesy and return of kindness, but--good English workmanship for him! However, Giles was allowed to go and ask the price of the blade, andbring it to be looked at. When he returned to the court he found, infront of the building where finished suits were kept for display, atall, thin, wiry, elderly man, deeply bronzed, and with a scar on hisbrow. Master Headley and Tibble were both in attendance, Tib measuringthe stranger, and Stephen, who was standing at a respectful distance, gave Giles the information that this was the famous Captain of Free-lances, Sir John Fulford, who had fought in all the wars in Italy, andwas going to fight in them again, but wanted a suit of "our harness. " The information was hardly needed, for Sir John, in a voice loud enoughto lead his men to the battle-field, and with all manner of strongasseverations in all sorts of languages, was explaining the dints andblows that had befallen the mail he had had from Master Headley eighteenyears ago, when he was but a squire; how his helmet had endured toughblows, and saved his head at Novara, but had been crushed like an eggshell by a stone from the walls at Barletta, which had nearly been hisown destruction: and how that which he at present wore (beautifullychased and in a classical form) was taken from a dead Italian Count onthe field of Ravenna, but always sat amiss on him; and how he had brokenhis good sword upon one of the rascally Swiss only a couple of monthsago at Marignano. Having likewise disabled his right arm, and beingwell off through the payment of some ransoms, he had come home partly tolook after his family, and partly to provide himself with a full suit ofEnglish harness, his present suit being a patchwork of relics ofnumerous battle-fields. Only one thing he desired, a true Spanishsword, not only Toledo or Bilboa in name, but nature. He had seenexecution done by the weapons of the soldiers of the Great Captain, andbeen witness to the endurance of their metal, and this made him demandwhether Master Headley could provide him with the like. Giles took the moment for stepping forward and putting Abenali's workinto the master's hand. The Condottiere was in raptures. He pronouncedit as perfect a weapon as Gouzalo de Cordova himself could possess;showed off its temper and his own dexterity by piercing and cutting upan old cuirass, and invited the bystanders to let him put it to furtherproof by letting him slice through an apple placed on the open palm ofthe hand. Giles's friendship could not carry him so far as to make the venture;Kit Smallbones observed that he had a wife and children, and could notafford to risk his good right hand on a wandering soldier's bravado;Edmund was heard saying, "Nay, nay, Steve, don't be such a fool, " butStephen was declaring he would not have the fellow say that English ladshunt back from what rogues of France and Italy would dare. "No danger for him who winceth not, " said the knight. Master Headley, a very peaceful citizen in his composition in spite ofhis trade, was much inclined to forbid Stephen from the experiment, buthe refrained, ashamed and unwilling to daunt a high spirit; and half thehousehold, eager for the excitement, rushed to the kitchen in quest ofapples, and brought out all the women to behold, and add a clamour ofremonstrance. Sir John, however, insisted that they should all be ordered back again. "Not that the noise and clamour of women folk makes any odds to me, "said the grim old warrior, "I've seen too many towns taken for that, butit might make the lad queasy, and cost him a thumb or so. " Of course this renewed the dismay and excitement, and both Tibble andhis master entreated Stephen to give up the undertaking if he felt theleast misgiving as to his own steadiness, arguing that they should notthink him any more a craven than they did Kit Smallbones or EdmundBurgess. But Stephen's mind was made up, his spirit was high, and hewas resolved to go through with it. He held out his open hand, a rosy-checked apple was carefully laid onit. The sword flashed through the air--divided in half the apple whichremained on Stephen's palm. There was a sharp shriek from a window, drowned in the acclamations of the whole court, while the Captain pattedStephen on the shoulder, exclaiming, "Well done, my lad. There's themaking of a tall fellow in thee! If ever thou art weary of makingweapons and wouldst use them instead, seek out John Fulford, of theBadger troop, and thou shalt have a welcome. Our name is the Badger, because there's no troop like us for digging out mines beneath thewalls. " A few months ago such an invitation would have been bliss to Stephen. Now he was bound in all honour and duty to his master, and could onlythank the knight of the Badger, and cast a regretful eye at him, as hedrank a cup of wine, and flung a bag of gold and silver, supplemented bya heavy chain, to Master Headley, who prudently declined working forFree Companions, unless he were paid beforehand; and, at the knight'srequest, took charge of a sufficient amount to pay his fare back againto the Continent. Then mounting a tall, lean, bony horse, the knightsaid he should call for his armour on returning from Somerset, and rodeoff, while Stephen found himself exalted as a hero in the eyes of hiscompanions for an act common enough at feats of arms among moderncavalry, but quite new to the London flat-caps. The only sufferer waslittle Dennet, who had burst into an agony of crying at the sight, needed that Stephen should spread out both hands before her, and showher the divided apple, before she would believe that his thumb was inits right place, and at night screamed out in her sleep that the ill-favoured man was cutting off Stephen's hands. The sword was left behind by Sir John in order that it might be fittedwith a scabbard and belt worthy of it; and on examination, MasterHeadley and Tibble both confessed that they could produce nothing equalto it in workmanship, though Kit looked with contempt at the slightweapon of deep blue steel, with lines meandering on it like a wateredsilk, and the upper part inlaid with gold wire in exquisite arabesquepatterns. He called it a mere toy, and muttered something aboutsorcery, and men who had been in foreign parts not thinking honestweight of English steel good enough for them. Master Headley would not trust one of the boys with the good silvercoins that had been paid as the price of the sword--French crowns andMilanese ducats, with a few Venetian gold bezants--but he bade them goas guards to Tibble, for it was always a perilous thing to carry a sumof money through the London streets. Tibble was not an unwillingmessenger. He knew Master Michael to be somewhat of his own way ofthinking, and he was a naturally large-minded man who could appreciateskill higher than his own without jealousy. Indeed, he and his masterheld a private consultation on the mode of establishing a connectionwith Michael and profiting by his ability. To have lodged him at the Dragon court and made him part of theestablishment might have seemed the most obvious way, but the doggedEnglish hatred and contempt of foreigners would have rendered thisimpossible, even if Abenali himself would have consented to give up hiscomparative seclusion and live in a crowd and turmoil. But he was thankful to receive and execute orders from Master Headley, since so certain a connection would secure Aldonza from privation suchas the child had sometimes had to endure in the winter; when, though theabstemious Eastern nature needed little food, there was great sufferingfrom cold and lack of fuel. And Tibble moreover asked questions andbegged for instructions in some of the secrets of the art. It was aneffort to such a prime artificer as Steelman to ask instruction from anyman, especially a foreigner, but Tibble had a nature of no common order, and set perfection far above class prejudice; and moreover, he feltAbenali to be one of those men who had their inner eyes devotedly fixedon the truth, though little knowing where the quest would lead them. On his side Abenali underwent a struggle. "Woe is me!" he said. "Wottest thou, my son, that the secrets of the sword of light andswiftness are the heritage that Abdallah Ben Ali brought from Damascusin the hundred and fifty-third year of the flight of him whom once Itermed the prophet; nor have they departed from our house, but have beenhanded on from father to son. And shall they be used in the wars of thestranger and the Christian?" "I feared it might be thus, " said Tibble. "And yet, " went on the old man, as if not hearing him, "wherefore shouldI guard the secret any longer? My sons? Where are they? They brookednot the scorn and hatred of the Castillian which poisoned to them thenew faith. They cast in their lot with their own people, and that theirbones may lie bleaching on the mountains is the best lot that can havebefallen the children of my youth and hope. The house of Miguel Abenaliis desolate and childless, save for the little maiden who sits by myhearth in the land of my exile! Why should I guard it longer for himwho may wed her, and whom I may never behold? The will of Heaven bedone! Young man, if I bestow this knowledge on thee, wilt thou swear tobe as a father to my daughter, and to care for her as thine own?" It was a good while since Tibble had been called a young man, and as helistened to the flowing Eastern periods in their foreign enunciation, hewas for a moment afraid that the price of the secret was that he shouldbecome the old Moor's son-in-law! His seared and scarred youth hadprecluded marriage, and he entertained the low opinion of women frequentin men of superior intellect among the uneducated. Besides, thepossibilities of giving umbrage to Church authorities were dawning onhim, and he was not willing to form any domestic ties, so that in everyway such a proposition would have been unwelcome to him. But he had noobjection to pledge himself to fatherly guardianship of the pretty childin case of a need that might never arise. So he gave the promise, andbecame a pupil of Abenali, visiting Warwick Inner Ward with his master'sconsent whenever he could be snared, while the workmanship at the Dragonbegan to profit thereby. The jealousy of the Eagle was proportionately increased. AldermanItillyeo, the head of the Eagle, was friendly enough to Mr Headley, butit was undeniable that they were the rival armourers of London, dividingthe favours of the Court equally between them, and the bitterness of theemulation increased the lower it went in the establishment. Theprentices especially could hardly meet without gibes and sneers, ifnothing worse, and Stephen's exploit had a peculiar flavour because itwas averred that no one at the Eagle would have done the like. But it was not till the Sunday that Ambrose chanced to hear of the feat, at which he turned quite pale, but he was prouder of it than any oneelse, and although he rejoiced that he had not seen it performed, he didnot fail to boast of it at home, though Perronel began by declaring thatshe did not care for the mad pranks of roistering prentices; butpresently she paused, as she stirred her grandfather's evening posset, and said, "What saidst thou was the strange soldier's name?" "Fulford--Sir John Fulford, " said Ambrose. "What? I thought not of it, is not that Gaffer's name?" "Fulford, yea! Mayhap--" and Perronel sat down and gave an odd sort oflaugh of agitation--"mayhap 'tis mine own father. " "Shouldst thou know him, good aunt?" cried Ambrose, much excited. "Scarce, " she said. "I was not seven years old when he went to thewars--if so be he lived through the battle--and he recked little of me, being but a maid. I feared him greatly and so did my mother. 'Twashappier with only Gaffer! Where saidst thou he was gone?" Ambrose could not tell, but he undertook to bring Stephen to answer allqueries on the subject. His replies that the Captain was gone in questof his family to Somersetshire settled the matter, since there had beenold Martin Fulford's abode, and there John Fulford had parted with hiswife and father. They did not, however, tell the old man of thepossibility of his son's being at home, he had little memory, and waseasily thrown into a state of agitation; besides, it was a doubtfulmatter how the Condottiere would feel as to the present fortunes of thefamily. Stephen was to look out for his return in quest of his suit ofarmour, inform him of his father's being alive, and show him the way tothe little house by the Temple Gardens; but Perronel gave the strictestinjunctions that her husband's profession should not be explained. Itwould be quite enough to say that he was of the Lord Cardinal'shousehold. Stephen watched, but the armour was finished and Christmas passed bybefore anything was seen of the Captain. At last, however, he diddescend on the Dragon court, looking so dilapidated that Mr Headleyrejoiced in the having received payment beforehand. He was loudervoiced and fuller of strange oaths than ever, and in the utmost haste, for he had heard tidings that, "there was to be a lusty game between theEmperor and the Italians, and he must have his share. " Stephen made his way up to speak to him, and was received with, "Ha, mygallant lad! Art weary of hammer and anvil? Wouldst be a brave Badger, slip thine indentures, and hear helm and lance ring in good earnest?" "Not so, sir, " said Stephen, "but I have been bidden to ask if thou hastfound thy father?" "What's that to thee, stripling? When thou hast cut thy wisdom teeth, thou'lt know old fathers be not so easy found. 'Twas a wild goosechase, and I wot not what moved me to run after it. I met jollycomrades enough, bumpkins that could drink with an honest soldier whenthey saw him, but not one that ever heard the name of Fulford. " "Sir, " said Stephen, "I know an old man named Fulford. His grand-daughter is my uncle's wife, and they dwell by the Temple. " The intelligence seemed more startling and less gratifying than Stephenhad expected. Sir John demanded whether they were poor, and declaredthat he had better have heard of them when his purse was fuller. He hadsupposed that his wife had given him up and found a fresh mate, and whenhe heard of her death, he made an exclamation which might be pity, buthad in it something of relief. He showed more interest about his oldfather; but as to his daughter, if she had been a lad now, a' might havebeen a stout comrade by this time, ready to do the Badger credit. Yea, his poor Kate was a good lass, but she was only a Flemish woman andhadn't the sense to rear aught but a whining little wench, who was of nogood except to turn fools' heads, and she was wedded and past all thatby this time. Stephen explained that she was wedded to one of the Lord Cardinal'smeine. "Ho!" said the Condottiere, pausing, "be that the butcher's boy that ispouring out his gold to buy scarlet hats, if not the three crowns. 'Tisno bad household wherein to have a footing. Saidst thou I should findmy wench and the old Gaffer there?" Stephen had to explain, somewhat to the disappointment of the Captain, who had, as it appeared, in the company of three or four moreadventurous spirits like himself, taken a passage in a vessel lying offGravesend, and had only turned aside to take up his new armour and hisdeposit of passage-money. He demurred a little, he had little time tospare, and though, of course, he could take boat at the Temple Stairs, and drop down the river, he observed that it would have been a verydifferent thing to go home to the old man when he first came back with apouch full of ransoms and plunder, whereas now he had barely enough tocarry him to the place of meeting with his Badgers. And there was thewench too--he had fairly forgotten her name. Women were like she wolvesfor greed when they had a brood of whelps. Stephen satisfied him that there was no danger on that score, and heardhim muttering, that it was no harm to secure a safe harbour in case aman hadn't the luck to be knocked on the head ere he grew too old totrail a pike. And he would fain see the old man. So permission was asked for Stephen to show the way to Master Randall's, and granted somewhat reluctantly, Master Headley saying, "I'll have theeback within an hour, Stephen Birkenholt, and look thou dost not let thybrain be set afire with this fellow's windy talk of battles and sieges, and deeds only fit for pagans and wolves. " "Ay!" said Tibble, perhaps with a memory of the old fable, "better bethe trusty mastiff than the wolf. " And like the wolf twitting the mastiff with his chain, the soldier wasno sooner outside the door of the Dragon court before he began toexpress his wonder how a lad of mettle could put up with a flat cap, ablue gown, and the being at the beck and call of a greasy burgher, whena bold, handsome young knave like him might have the world before himand his stout pike. Stephen was flattered, but scarcely tempted. The hard selfishness andwant of affection of the Condottiere shocked him, while he looked about, hoping some of his acquaintance would see him in company with this tallfigure clanking in shining armour, and with a knightly helmet and giltspurs. The armour, new and brilliant, concealed the worn and shabbyleathern dress beneath, and gave the tall, spare figure a greaterbreadth, diminishing the look of a hungry wolf which Sir John Fulford'saspect suggested. However, as he passed some of the wealthier stalls, where the apprentices, seeing the martial figure, shouted, "What d'yelack, sir knight?" and offered silk and velvet robes and mantles, gaysword knots, or even rich chains, under all the clamour, Stephen heardhim swearing by Saint George what a place this would be for a sack, ifhis Badgers were behind him. "If that poor craven of a Warbeck had had a spark of valour in him, "quoth he, as he passed a stall gay with bright tankards and flagons, "wewould have rattled some of that shining gear about the lazy citizens'ears! He, jolly King Edward's son! I'll never give faith to it! Toturn his back when there was such a booty to be had for the plundering. " "He might not have found it so easy. Our trainbands are sturdy enough, "said Stephen, whose _esprit de corps_ was this time on the Londoners'side, but the knight of the Badger snapped his fingers, and said, "Somuch for your burgher trainbands! All they be good for with their showof fight is to give honest landsknechts a good reason to fall on to theplunder, if so be one is hampered by a squeamish prince. But grammercyto Saint George, there be not many of that sort after they be oncefleshed!" Perhaps a year ago, when fresh from the Forest, Stephen might have beenmore captivated by the notion of adventure and conquest. Now that hehad his place in the community and looked on a civic position withwholesome ambition, Fulford's longings for havoc in these peacefulstreets made his blood run cold. He was glad when they reached theirdestination, and he saw Perronel with bare arms, taking in some linencuffs and bands from a line across to the opposite wall. He could onlycall out, "Good naunt, here he be!" Perronel turned round, the colour rising in her cheeks, with anobeisance, but trembling a good deal. "How now, wench? Thou art growna buxom dame. Thou makst an old man of me, " said the soldier with alaugh. "Where's my father? I have not the turning of a cup to stay, for I'm come home poor as a cat in a plundered town, and am off to thewars again; but hearing that the old man was nigh at hand, I came thisway to see him, and let thee know thou art a knight's daughter. Thouart indifferent comely, girl, what's thy name? but not the peer of thymother when I wooed her as one of the bonny lasses of Bruges. " He gave a kind of embrace, while she gave a kind of gasp of "Welcome, sir, " and glanced somewhat reproachfully at Stephen for not having givenher more warning. The cause of her dismay was plain as the Captain, giving her no time to precede him, strode into the little chamber, whereHal Randall, without his false beard or hair, and in his parti-colouredhose, was seated by the cupboard-like bed, assisting old Martin Fulfordto take his mid-day meal. "Be this thine husband, girl? Ha! ha! He's more like a jolly friarcome in to make thee merry when the good man is out!" exclaimed thevisitor, laughing loudly at his own rude jest; but heeding little eitherHal's appearance or his reply, as he caught the old man's bewilderedeyes, and heard his efforts to utter his name. For eighteen years had altered John Fulford less than either his fatheror his daughter, and old Martin recognised him instantly, and held outthe only arm he could use, while the knight, softened, touched, andreally feeling more natural affection than Stephen had given him creditfor, dropped on his knee, breaking into indistinct mutterings with roughbut hearty greetings, regretting that he had not found his fathersooner, when his pouch was full, lamenting the change in him, declaringthat he must hurry away now, but promising to come back with sacks ofItalian ducats to provide for the old man. Those who could interpret the imperfect utterance, now further choked bytears and agitation, knew that there was a medley of broken rejoicings, blessings, and weepings, in the midst of which the soldier, glad perhapsto end a scene where he became increasingly awkward and embarrassed, started up, hastily kissed the old man on each of his withered cheeks, gave another kiss to his daughter, threw her two Venetian ducats, bidding her spend them for the old man, and he would bring a pouchfulmore next time, and striding to the door, bade Stephen call a boat totake him down to Gravesend. Randall, who had in the meantime donned his sober black gown in theinner chamber, together with a dark hood, accompanied his newly foundfather-in-law down the river, and Stephen would fain have gone too, butfor the injunction to return within the hour. Perronel had hurried back to her grandfather's side to endeavour tocompose him after the shock of gladness. But it had been too much forhis enfeebled powers. Another stroke came on before the day was over, and in two or three days more old Martin Fulford was laid to rest, andhis son's ducats were expended on masses for his soul's welfare. CHAPTER FIFTEEN. HEAVE HALF A BRICK AT HIM. "For strangers then did so increase, By reason of King Henry's queen, And privileged in many a place To dwell, as was in London seen. Poor tradesmen had small dealing then And who but strangers bore the bell, Which was a grief to Englishmen To see them here in London dwell. " _Ill May Day_, by Churchill, a Contemporary Poet. Time passed on, and Edmund Burgess, who had been sent from York to learnthe perfection of his craft, completed his term and returned to hishome, much regretted in the Dragon court, where his good humour and goodsense had generally kept the peace, both within and without. Giles Headley was now the eldest prentice. He was in every way greatlyimproved, thoroughly accepting his position, and showing himself quiteready both to learn and to work; but he had not the will or the power ofavoiding disputes with outsiders, or turning them aside with a merryjest; and rivalries and quarrels with the armoury at the Eagle began toincrease. The Dragon, no doubt, turned out finer workmanship, and thisthe Eagle alleged was wholly owing to nefarious traffic with the oldSpanish or Moorish sorcerer in Warwick Inner Ward, a thing unworthy ofhonest Englishmen. This made Giles furious, and the cry never failed to end in a fight, inwhich Stephen supported the cause of the one house, and George Bates andhis comrades of the other. It was the same with even the archery at Mile End, where the butts wereerected, and the youth contended with the long bow, which was stillconsidered as the safeguard of England. King Henry often looked in onthese matches, and did honour to the winners. One match there was inespecial, on Mothering Sunday, when the champions of each guild shotagainst one another at such a range that it needed a keen eye to see thepopinjay--a stuffed bird at which they shot. Stephen was one of these, his forest lore having always given him anadvantage over many of the others. He even was one of the last threewho were to finish the sport by shooting against one another. One was abutcher named Barlow. The other was a Walloon, the best shot among sixhundred foreigners of various nations, all of whom, though with littleencouragement, joined in the national sport on these pleasant springafternoons. The first contest threw out the Walloon, at which therewere cries of ecstasy; now the trial was between Barlow and Stephen, andin this final effort, the distance of the pole to which the popinjay wasfastened was so much increased that strength of arm told as much asaccuracy of aim, and Stephen's seventeen years' old muscles could not, after so long a strain, cope with those of Ralph Barlow, a butcher offull thirty years old. His wrist and arm began to shake with weariness, and only one of his three last arrows went straight to the mark, whileBarlow was as steady as ever, and never once failed. Stephen wasbitterly disappointed, his eyes filled with tears, and he flung himselfdown on the turf, feeling as if the shouts of "A Barlow! a Barlow!"which were led by the jovial voice of King Harry himself, were allexulting over him. Barlow was led up to the king, who hailed him "King of Shoreditch, " atitle borne by the champion archer ever after, so long as bowmanship inearnest lasted. A tankard which the king filled with silver pieces washis prize, but Henry did not forget Number 2. "Where's the otherfellow?" he said. "He was but a stripling, and to my mind, his feat wasa greater marvel than that of a stalwart fellow like Barlow. " Half a dozen of the spectators, among them the cardinal's hurried insearch of Stephen, who was roused from his fit of weariness anddisappointment by a shake of the shoulder as his uncle jingled his bellsin his ears, and exclaimed, "How now, here I own a cousin!" Stephen satup and stared with angry, astonished eyes, but only met a laugh. "Ay, ay, 'tis but striplings and fools that have tears to spend for such asthis! Up, boy! D'ye hear? The other Hal is asking for thee. " And Stephen, hastily brushing away his tears, and holding his flat capin his hand, was marshalled across the mead, hot, shy, and indignant, asthe jester mopped and mowed, and cut all sorts of antics before him, turning round to observe in an encouraging voice, "Pluck up a heart, man! One would think Hal was going to cut off thine head!" And then, on arriving where the king sat on his horse, "Here he is, Hal, such ashe is come humbly to crave thy gracious pardon for hitting the mark nobetter! He'll mend his ways, good my lord, if your grace will pardonhim this time. " "Ay, marry, and that will I, " said the king. "The springald bids fairto be King of Shoreditch by the time the other fellow abdicates. Howold art thou, my lad?" "Seventeen, an it please your grace, " said Stephen, in the gruff voiceof his age. "And thy name?" "Stephen Birkenholt, my liege, " and he wondered whether he would berecognised; but Henry only said-- "Methinks I've seen those sloe-black eyes before. Or is it only thatthe lad is thy very marrow, quipsome one?" "The which, " returned the jester, gravely, while Stephen tingled allover with dismay, "may account for the tears the lad was wasting at nothaving the thews of the fellow double his age! But I envy him not! NotI! He'll never have wit for mine office, but will come in second therelikewise. " "I dare be sworn he will, " said the king. "Here, take this, my goodlad, and prank thee in it when thou art out of thy time, and goest a-hunting in Epping!" It was a handsome belt with a broad silver clasp, engraven with theTudor rose and portcullis; and Stephen bowed low and made hisacknowledgments as best he might. He was hailed with rapturous acclamations by his own contemporaries, whoheld that he had saved the credit of the English prentice world, andinsisted on carrying him enthroned on their shoulders back to Cheapside, in emulation of the journeymen and all the butcher kind, who were thusbearing home the King of Shoreditch. Shouts, halloos, whistles, every jubilant noise that youth and boyhoodcould invent, were the triumphant music of Stephen on his surging anduneasy throne, as he was shifted from one bearer to another when each inturn grew tired of his weight. Just, however, as they were nearingtheir own neighbourhood, a counter cry broke out, "Witchcraft! Hisarrows are bewitched by the old Spanish sorcerer! Down with Dragons andWizards!" And a handful of mud came full in the face of the enthronedlad, aimed no doubt by George Bates. There was a yell and rush of rage, but the enemy was in numbers too small to attempt resistance, and dashedoff before their pursuers, only pausing at safe corners to shoutParthian darts of "Wizards!" "Magic!" "Sorcerers!" "Heretics!" There was nothing to be done but to collect again, and escort Stephen, who had wiped the mud off his face, to the Dragon court, where Dennetdanced on the steps for joy, and Master Headley, not a little gratified, promised Stephen a supper for a dozen of his particular friends atArmourers' Hall on the ensuing Easter Sunday. Of course Stephen went in search of his brother, all the more eagerlybecause he was conscious that they had of late drifted apart a gooddeal. Ambrose was more and more absorbed by the studies to which LucasHansen led him, and took less and less interest in his brother'spursuits. He did indeed come to the Sunday's dinner according to theregular custom, but the moment it was permissible to leave the board hewas away with Tibble Steelman to meet friends of Lucas, and pursuestudies, as if, Stephen thought, he had not enough of books as it was. When Dean Colet preached or catechised in Saint Paul's in the afternoonthey both attended and listened, but that good man was in failinghealth, and his wise discourses were less frequent. Where they were at other times, Stephen did not know, and hardly cared, except that he had a general dislike to, and jealousy of, anything thattook his brother's sympathy away from him. Moreover Ambrose's face wasthinner and paler, he had a strange absorbed look, and often even whenthey were together seemed hardly to attend to what his brother wassaying. "I will make him come, " said Stephen to himself, as he went withswinging gait towards Warwick Inner Ward, where, sure enough, he foundAmbrose sitting at the door, frowning over some black-letter whichlooked most uninviting in the eyes of the apprentice, and he fell uponhis brother with half angry, half merry reproofs for wasting the finespring afternoon over such studies. Ambrose looked up with a dreamy smile and greeted his brother; but allthe time Stephen was narrating the history of the match, (and he _did_tell the fate of each individual arrow of his own or Barlow's), his eyeswere wandering back to the crabbed page in his hand, and when Stephenimpatiently wound up his history with the invitation to supper on EasterSunday, the reply was, "Nay, brother, thanks, but that I cannot do. " "Cannot!" exclaimed Stephen. "Nay, there are other matters in hand that go deeper. " "Yea, I know whatever concerns musty books goes deeper with thee thanthy brother, " replied Stephen, turning away much mortified. Ambrose's warm nature was awakened. He held his brother by the arm anddeclared himself anything but indifferent to him, but he owned that hedid not love noise and revelry, above all on Sunday. "Thou art addling thy brains with preachings!" said Stephen. "PrayHeaven they make not a heretic of thee. But thou mightest for once havecome to mine own feast. " Ambrose, much perplexed and grieved at thus vexing his brother, declaredthat he would have done so with all his heart, but that this very EasterSunday there was coming a friend of Master Hansen's from Holland: whowas to tell them much of the teaching in Germany, which was soenlightening men's eyes. "Yea, truly, making heretics of them, Mistress Headley saith, " returnedStephen. "O Ambrose, if thou wilt run after these books and parchments, canst not do it in right fashion, among holy monks, as of old?" "Holy monks!" repeated Ambrose. "Holy monks! Where be they?" Stephen stared at him. "Hear uncle Hal talk of monks whom he sees at my Lord Cardinal's table!What holiness is there among them? Men, that have vowed to renounce allworldly and carnal things flaunt like peacocks and revel like swine--myLord Cardinal with his silver pillars foremost of them! He poor andmortified! 'Tis verily as our uncle saith, he plays the least false andshameful part there!" "Ambrose, Ambrose, thou wilt be distraught, poring over these mattersthat were never meant for lads like us! Do but come and drive them outfor once with mirth and good fellowship. " "I tell thee, Stephen, what thou callest mirth and good fellowship dobut drive the pain in deeper. Sin and guilt be everywhere. I seem tosee the devils putting foul words on the tongue and ill deeds in thehands of myself and all around me, that they may accuse us before God. No, Stephen, I cannot, cannot come. I must go where I can hear of abetter way. " "Nay, " said Stephen, "what better way can there be than to be shriven--clean shriven--and then houselled, as I was ere Lent, and trust to beagain on next Low Sunday morn? That's enough for a plain lad. " Hecrossed himself reverently, "Mine own Lord pardoneth and cometh to me. " But the two minds, one simple and practical, the other sensitive andspeculative, did not move in the same atmosphere, and could notunderstand one another. Ambrose was in the condition of excitement andbewilderment produced by the first stirrings of the Reformation uponenthusiastic minds. He had studied the Vulgate, made out something ofthe Greek Testament, read all fragments of the Fathers that came in hisway, and also all the controversial "tractates, " Latin or Dutch, that hecould meet with, and attended many a secret conference between Lucas andhis friends, when men, coming from Holland or Germany, communicatedaccounts of the lectures and sermons of Dr Martin Luther, which alreadywere becoming widely known. He was wretched under the continual tossings of his mind. Was theentire existing system a vast delusion, blinding the eyes and destroyingthe souls of those who trusted to it; and was the only safety in the onepoint of faith that Luther pressed on all, and ought all that he hadhitherto revered to crumble down to let that alone be upheld? Whateverhe had once loved and honoured at times seemed to him a lie, while atothers real affection and veneration, and dread of sacrilege, made himshudder at himself and his own doubts! It was his one thought, and hepassionately sought after all those secret conferences which did butfeed the flame that consumed him. The elder men who were with him were not thus agitated. Lucas'sconvictions had not long been fixed. He did not court observation nordo anything unnecessarily to bring persecution on himself, but hequietly and secretly acted as an agent in dispersing the Lollard booksand those of Erasmus, and lived in the conviction that there would oneday be a great crash, believing himself to be doing his part byundermining the structure, and working on undoubtingly. Abenali was notaggressive. In fact, though he was reckoned among Lucas's party, because of his abstinence from all cult of saints or images, and thepersecution he had suffered, he did not join in their general opinions, and held aloof from their meetings. And Tibble Steelman, as has beenbefore said, lived two lives, and that as foreman at the Dragon court, being habitual to him, and requiring much thought and exertion, thespeculations of the reformers were to him more like an intellectualrelaxation than the business of life. He took them as a modern artisanwould in this day read his newspaper, and attend his club meeting. Ambrose, however, had the enthusiastic practicalness of youth. On thatwhich he fully believed, he must act, and what did he fully believe? Boy as he was--scarcely yet eighteen--the toils and sports thatdelighted his brother seemed to him like toys amusing infants on theverge of an abyss, and he spent his leisure either in searching in theVulgate for something to give him absolute direction, or in going insearch of preachers, for, with the stirring of men's minds, sermons werebecoming more frequent. There was much talk just now of the preaching of one Doctor Beale, towhom all the tradesmen, Journeymen, and apprentices were resorting, eventhose who were of no special religious tendencies. Ambrose went onEaster Tuesday to hear him preach at Saint Mary's Spitall. The placewas crowded with artificers, and Beale began by telling them that he had"a pitiful bill, " meaning a letter, brought to him declaring how aliensand strangers were coming in to inhabit the City and suburbs, to eat thebread from poor fatherless children, and take the living from allartificers and the intercourse from merchants, whereby poverty was somuch increased that each bewaileth the misery of others. Presentlycoming to his text, "_Caelum caeli Domini, terram autem dedit filiishominis_, " (the Heaven of Heavens is the Lord's, the earth hath He givento the children of men), the doctor inculcated that England was given toEnglishmen, and that as birds would defend their nests, so oughtEnglishmen to defend themselves, _and to hurt and grieve aliens for thecommon weal_! The corollary a good deal resembled that of "hate thineenemy" which was foisted by "them of the old time" upon "thou shalt lovethy neighbour. " And the doctor went on upon the text, "_Pugna propatria_, " to demonstrate that fighting for one's country meant risingupon and expelling all the strangers who dwelt and traded within it. Many of these foreigners were from the Hanse towns which had specialcommercial privileges, there were also numerous Venetians and Genoese, French and Spaniards, the last of whom were, above all, the objects ofdislike. Their imports of silks, cloth of gold, stamped leather, wineand oil, and their superior skill in many handicrafts, had put Englishwares out of fashion; and their exports of wool, tin, and lead excitedequal jealousy, which Dr Beale, instigated as was well known by abroker named John Lincoln, was thus stirring up into fierce passion. His sermon was talked of all over London; blacker looks than ever weredirected at the aliens, stones and dirt were thrown at them, and evenAmbrose, as he walked along the street, was reviled as the Dutchkin'sknave. The insults became each day more daring and outrageous. GeorgeBates and a skinner's apprentice named Studley were caught in the act oftripping up a portly old Flanderkin and forthwith sent to Newgate, andthere were other arrests, which did but inflame the smouldering rage ofthe mob. Some of the wealthier foreigners, taking warning by the signsof danger, left the City, for there could be no doubt that the whole ofLondon and the suburbs were in a combustible condition of discontent, needing only a spark to set it alight. It was just about this time that a disreputable clerk--a lewd priest, asHall calls him--a hanger-on of the house of Howard, was guilty of aninsult to a citizen's wife as she was quietly walking home through theCheap. Her husband and brother, who were nearer at hand than heguessed, avenged the outrage with such good wills that this disgrace tothe priesthood was left dead on the ground. When such things happened, and discourses like Beale's were heard, it was not surprising thatAmbrose's faith in the clergy as guides received severe shocks. CHAPTER SIXTEEN. MAY EVE. "The rich, the poor, the old, the young, Beyond the seas though born and bred, By prentices they suffered wrong, When armed thus they gather'd head. " _Ill May Day_. May Eve had come, and little Dennet Headley was full of plans for goingout early with her young play-fellows to the meadow to gather May dew inthe early morning, but her grandmother, who was in bed under a heavyattack of rheumatism, did not like the reports brought to her, anddeferred her consent to the expedition. In the afternoon there were tidings that the Lord Mayor, Sir ThomasRest, had been sent for to my Lord Cardinal, who just at this time, during the building at York House, was lodging in his house close toTemple Bar. Some hours later a message came to Master Alderman Headleyto meet the Lord Mayor and the rest of the Council at the Guildhall. Heshook himself into his scarlet gown, and went off, puffing and blowing, and bidding Giles and Stephen take heed that they kept close, and raninto no mischief. But they agreed, and Kit Smallbones with them, that there could be noharm in going into the open space of Cheapside and playing out a matchwith bucklers between Giles and Wat Ball, a draper's prentice who hadchallenged him. The bucklers were huge shields, and the weapons werewooden swords. It was an exciting sport, and brought out all the youthsof Cheapside in the summer evening, bawling out encouragement, andlaying wagers on either side. The curfew rang, but there were specialprivileges on May Eve, and the game went on louder than ever. There was far too much noise for any one to hear the town crier, whowent along jingling his bell, and shouting, "O yes! O yes! O yes! Byorder of the Lord Mayor and Council, no householder shall allow any oneof his household to be abroad beyond his gate between the hours of nineo'clock at night and seven in the morning, " or if any of the outermostheard it, as did Ambrose who was on his way home to his night quarters, they were too much excited not to turn a deaf ear to it. Suddenly, however, just as Giles was preparing for a master-stroke, hewas seized roughly by the shoulder and bidden to give over. He lookedround. It was an alderman, not his master, but Sir John Mundy, anunpopular, harsh man. "Wherefore?" demanded Giles. "Thou shalt know, " said the alderman, seizing his arm to drag him to theCounter prison, but Giles resisted. Wat Ball struck at Sir John's armwith his wooden sword, and as the alderman shouted for the watch andcity-guard, the lads on their side raised their cry, "Prentices andClubs! Flat-caps and Clubs!" Master Headley, struggling along, met hiscolleague, with his gown torn into shreds from his back, among a host ofwildly yelling lads, and panting, "Help, help, brother Headley!" Withgreat difficulty the two aldermen reached the door of the Dragon, whenceSmallbones sallied out to rescue them, and dragged them in. "The boys!--the boys!" was Master Headley's first cry, but he might aswell have tried to detach two particular waves from a surging ocean ashis own especial boys from the multitude on that wild evening. Therewas no moon, and the twilight still prevailed, but it was dark enough tomake the confusion greater, as the cries swelled and numbers flowed intothe open space of Cheapside. In the words of Hall, the chronicler, "Outcame serving-men, and watermen, and courtiers, and by eleven of theclock there were six or seven hundreds in Cheap. And out of Pawle'sChurchyard came three hundred which wist not of the others. " For themost part all was involved in the semi-darkness of the summer night, buthere and there light came from an upper window on some boyish face, perhaps full of mischief, perhaps somewhat bewildered and appalled. Here and there were torches, which cast a red glare round them, butwhose smoke blurred everything, and seemed to render the darknessdeeper. Perhaps if the tumult had only been of the apprentices, provoked byAlderman Mundy's interference, they would soon have dispersed, but thethrong was pervaded by men with much deeper design, and a cry arose--noone knew from whence--that they would break into Newgate and set freeStudley and Bates. By this time the torrent of young manhood was quite irresistible by anyforce that had yet been opposed to it. The Mayor and Sheriffs stood atthe Guildhall, and read the royal proclamation by the light of a waxcandle, held in the trembling hand of one of the clerks; but no oneheard or heeded them, and the uproar was increased as the doors ofNewgate fell, and all the felons rushed out to join the rioters. At the same time another shout rose, "Down with the aliens!" and therewas a general rush towards Saint Martin's gate, in which direction manylived. There was, however, a pause here, for Sir Thomas More, Recorderof London, stood in the way before Saint Martin's gate, and with hisfull sweet voice began calling out and entreating the lads to go home, before any heads were broken more than could be mended again. He wasalways a favourite, and his good humour seemed to be making someimpression, when, either from the determination of the more evil-disposed, or because the inhabitants of Saint Martin's Lane werebeginning to pour down hot water, stones, and brickbats on the densemass of heads below them, a fresh access of fury seized upon the mob. Yells of, "Down with the strangers!" echoed through the narrow streets, drowning Sir Thomas's voice. A lawyer who stood with him was knockeddown and much hurt, the doors were battered down, and the householdstuff thrown from the windows. Here, Ambrose, who had hitherto beenpushed helplessly about, and knocked hither and thither, was driven upagainst Giles, and, to avoid falling and being trampled down, clutchedhold of him breathless and panting. "Thou here!" exclaimed Giles. "Who would have thought of sober Ambrosein the midst of the fray? See here, Stevie!" "Poor old Ambrose!" cried Stephen, "keep close to us! We'll see no harmcomes to thee. 'Tis hot work, eh?" "Oh, Stephen! could I but get out of the throng to warn my master andMaster Michael!" Those words seemed to strike Giles Headley. He might have cared littlefor the fate of the old printer, but as he heard the screams of thewomen in the houses around, he exclaimed, "Ay! there's the old man andthe little maid! We will have her to the Dragon!" "Or to mine aunt's, " said Ambrose. "Have with thee then, " said Giles: "Take his other arm, Steve;" andlocking their arms together the three fought and forced their way fromamong the plunderers in Saint Martin's with no worse mishap than ashower of hot water, which did not hurt them much through their stoutwoollen coats. They came at last to a place where they could breathe, and stood still a moment to recover from the struggle, and vituperatethe hot water. Then they heard fresh howls and yells in front as well as behind. "They are at it everywhere, " exclaimed Stephen. "I hear them somewhereout by Cornhill. " "Ay, where the Frenchmen live that calender worsted, " returned Giles. "Come on; who knows how it is with the old man and little maid?" "There's a sort in our court that are ready for aught, " said Ambrose. On they hurried in the darkness, which was now at the very deepest ofthe night; now and then a torch was borne across the street, and most ofthe houses had lights in the upper windows, for few Londoners slept onthat strange night. The stained glass of the windows of the Churchesbeamed in bright colours from the Altar lights seen through them, butthe lads made slower progress than they wished, for the streets werenever easy to walk in the dark, and twice they came on mobs assailinghouses, from the windows of one of which, French shoes and boots werebeing hailed down. Things were moderately quiet around Saint Paul's, but as they came into Warwick Lane they heard fresh shouts and wildcries, and at the archway leading to the inner yard they could see thatthere was a huge bonfire in the midst of the court--of what composedthey could not see for the howling figures that exulted round it. "George Bates, the villain!" cried Stephen, as his enemy in exultingferocious delight was revealed for a moment throwing a book on the fire, and shouting, "Hurrah! there's for the old sorcerer, there's for theheretics!" That instant Giles was flying on Bates, and Stephen, with equal, if notgreater fury, at one of his comrades; but Ambrose dashed through theoutskirts of the wildly screaming and shouting fellows, many of whomwere the miscreant population of the mews, to the black yawning doorwayof his master. He saw only a fellow staggering out with the screw ofthe press to feed the flame, and hurried on in the din to call, "Master, art thou there?" There was no answer, and he moved on to the next door, calling againsoftly, while all the spoilers seemed absorbed in the fire and thecombat. "Master Michael! 'Tis I, Ambrose!" "Here, my son, " cautiously answered a voice he knew for Lucas Hansen's. "Oh, master! master!" was his low, heart-stricken cry, as by the leapinglight of a flame he saw the pale face of the old printer, who drew himin. "Yea! 'tis ruin, my son, " said Lucas. "And would that that were theworst. " The light flashed and flickered through the broken window so thatAmbrose saw that the hangings had been torn down and everything wrecked, and a low sound as of stifled weeping directed his eyes to a cornerwhere Aldonza sat with her father's head on her lap. "Lives he? Is hegreatly hurt?" asked Ambrose, awe-stricken. "The life is yet in him, but I fear me greatly it is passing fast, " saidLucas, in a low voice. "One of those lads smote him on the back with aclub, and struck him down at the poor maid's feet, nor hath he movedsince. It was that one young Headley is fighting with, " he added. "Bates! ah! Would that we had come sooner! What! more of this work--" For just then a tremendous outcry broke forth, and there was a rush andpanic among those who had been leaping round the fire just before. "Theguard!--the King's men!" was the sound they presently distinguished. They could hear rough abusive voices, shrieks and trampling of feet. Afew seconds more and all was still, only the fire remained, and in thestillness the suppressed sobs and moans of Aldonza were heard. "A light! Fetch a light from the fire!" said Lucas. Ambrose ran out. The flame was lessening, but he could see the darkbindings, and the blackened pages of the books he loved so well. Acorner of a page of Saint Augustine's Confessions was turned towards himand lay on a singed fragment of Aldonza's embroidered curtain, while alittle red flame was licking the spiral folds of the screw, trying, asit were, to gather energy to do more than blacken it. Ambrose couldhave wept over it at any other moment, but now he could only catch up abrand--it was the leg of his master's carved chair--and run back withit. Lucas ventured to light a lamp, and they could then see the oldman's face pale, but calm and still, with his long white beard flowingover his breast. There was no blood, no look of pain, only a set lookabout the eyes; and Aldonza cried, "Oh, father, thou art better! Speakto me! Let Master Lucas lift thee up!" "Nay, my child. I cannot move hand or foot. Let me lie thus till theAngel of Death come for me. He is very near. " He spoke in shortsentences. "Water--nay--no pain, " he added then, and Ambrose ran forsome water in the first battered fragment of a tin pot he could find. They bathed his face and he gathered strength after a time to say, "Apriest!--oh for a priest to shrive and housel me. " "I will find one, " said Ambrose, speeding out into the court overfragments of the beautiful work for which Abenali was hated, and overthe torn, half-burnt leaves of the beloved store of Lucas. The fire haddied down, but morning twilight was beginning to dawn, and all wasperfectly still after the recent tumult though for a moment or twoAmbrose heard some distant cries. Where should he go? Priests indeed were plentiful, but both his friendswere in bad odour with the ordinary ones. Lucas had avoided both theLenten shrift and Easter Communion, and what Miguel might have done, Ambrose was uncertain. Some young priests had actually been among theforemost in sacking the dwellings of the unfortunate foreigners, andAmbrose was quite uncertain whether he might not fall on one of thatstamp--or on one who might vex the old man's soul--perhaps deny him theSacraments altogether. As he saw the pale lighted windows of SaintPaul's, it struck him to see whether any one were within. The lightmight be only from some of the tapers burning perpetually, but the palelight in the north-east, the morning chill, and the clock strikingthree, reminded him that it must be the hour of Prime, and he said tohimself, "Sure, if a priest be worshipping at this hour, he will be agood and merciful man. I can but try. " The door of the transept yielded to his hand. He came forward, lightedthrough the darkness by the gleam of the candles, which cast a huge andawful shadow from the crucifix of the rood-screen upon the pavement. Before it knelt a black figure in prayer. Ambrose advanced in some aweand doubt how to break in on these devotions, but the priest had heardhis step, rose and said, "What is it, my son? Dost thou seek sanctuaryafter these sad doings?" "Nay, reverend sir, " said Ambrose. "'Tis a priest for a dying man Iseek;" and in reply to the instant question, where it was, he explainedin haste who the sufferer was, and how he had received a fatal blow, andwas begging for the Sacraments. "And oh, sir!" he added, "he is a holyand God-fearing man, if ever one lived, and hath been cruelly and foullyentreated by jealous and wicked folk, who hated him for his skill andindustry. " "Alack for the unhappy lads; and alack for those who egged them on, "said the priest. "Truly they knew not what they did. I will come withthee, my good youth. Thou hast not been one of them?" "No, truly sir, save that I was carried along and could not break fromthe throng. I work for Lucas Hansen, the Dutch printer, whom they havelikewise plundered in their savage rage. " "'Tis well. Thou canst then bear this, " said the priest, taking a thickwax candle. Then reverently advancing to the Altar, whence he took thepyx, or gold case in which the Host was reserved, he lighted the candle, which he gave, together with his stole, to the youth to bear before him. Then, when the light fell full on his features, Ambrose with a strangethrill of joy and trust perceived that it was no other than Dean Colet, who had here been praying against the fury of the people. He was verythankful, feeling intuitively that there was no fear but that Abenaliwould be understood, and for his own part, the very contact with the manwhom he revered seemed to calm and soothe him, though on that solemnerrand no word could be spoken. Ambrose went on slowly before, his darkhead uncovered, the priestly stole hanging over his arm, his handsholding aloft the tall candle of virgin wax, while the Dean followedclosely with feeble steps, looking frail and worn, but with a grave, sweet solemnity on his face. It was a perfectly still morning, and asthey slowly paced along, the flame burnt steadily with littleflickering, while the pure, delicately-coloured sky overhead wasbecoming every moment lighter, and only the larger stars were visible. The houses were absolutely still, and the only person they met, a ladcreeping homewards after the fray, fell on his knees bareheaded as heperceived their errand. Once or twice again sounds came up from thecity beneath, like shrieks or wailing breaking strangely on that fairpeaceful May morn; but still that pair went on till Ambrose had guidedthe Dean to the yard, where, except that the daylight was revealing moreand more of the wreck around, all was as he had left it. Aldonza, poorchild, with her black hair hanging loose like a veil, for she had beenstartled from her bed, still sat on the ground making her lap a pillowfor the white-bearded head, nobler and more venerable than ever. On itlay, in the absolute immobility produced by the paralysing blow, thefine features already in the solemn grandeur of death, and only themovement of the lips under the white flowing beard and of the dark eyesshowing life. Dean Colet said afterwards that he felt as if he had been called to thedeath-bed of Israel, or of Barzillai the Gileadite, especially when theold man, in the Oriental phraseology he had never entirely lost, said, "I thank Thee, my God, and the God of my fathers, that Thou hast grantedme that which I had prayed for. " The Dutch printer was already slightly known to the Dean, having soldhim many books. A few words were exchanged with him, but it was plainthat the dying man could not be moved, and that his confession must bemade on the lap of the young girl. Colet knelt over him so as to beable to hear, while Lucas and Ambrose withdrew, but were soon calledback for the remainder of the service for the dying. The old man's faceshowed perfect peace. All worldly thought and care seemed to have beencrushed out of him by the blow, and he did not even appear to think ofthe unprotected state of his daughter, although he blessed her withsolemn fervour immediately after receiving the Viaticum--then laymurmuring to himself sentences which Ambrose, who had learnt much fromhim, knew to be from his Arabic breviary about palm-branches, and thetwelve manner of fruits of the Tree of Life. It was a strange scene--the grand, calm, patriarchal old man, sopeaceful on his dark-haired daughter's lap in the midst of the shatteredhome in the old feudal stable. All were silent a while in awe, but theDean was the first to move and speak, calling Lucas forward to asksundry questions of him. "Is there no good woman, " he asked, "who could be with this poor childand take her home, when her father shall have passed away?" "Mine uncle's wife, sir, " said Ambrose, a little doubtfully. "I trowshe would come--since I can certify her that your reverence holds himfor a holy man. " "I had thy word for it, " said the Dean. "Ah! reply not, my son, I seewell how it may be with you here. But tell those who will take the wordof John Colet that never did I mark the passing away of one who hadborne more for the true holy Catholic faith, nor held it more to hissoul's comfort. " For the Dean, a man of vivid intelligence, knew enough of the Morescopersecutions to be able to gather from the words of Lucas and Ambrose, and the confession of the old man himself, a far more correct estimateof Abenali's sufferings, and constancy to the truth, than any of themore homebred wits could have divined. He knew, too, that his ownorthodoxy was so called in question by the narrower and more unspiritualsection of the clergy that only the appreciative friendship of the Kingand the Cardinal kept him securely in his position. Ambrose sped away, knowing that Perronel would be quite satisfied. Hewas sure of her ready compassion and good-will, but she had so oftenbewailed his running after learning and possibly heretical doctrine, that he had doubted whether she would readily respond to a summons, onhis own authority alone, to one looked on with so much suspicion asMaster Michael. Colet intimated his intention of remaining a littlelonger to pray with the dying man, and further wrote a few words on histablets, telling Ambrose to leave them with one of the porters at hishouse as he went past Saint Paul's. It was broad daylight now, a lovely May morning, such as generallycalled forth the maidens, small and great, to the meadows to rub theirfresh cheeks with the silvery dew, and to bring home kingcups, cuckooflowers, blue bottles, and cowslips for the Maypoles that were to bedecked. But all was silent now, not a house was open, the rising sunmade the eastern windows of the churches a blaze of light, and from thewest door of Saint Paul's the city beneath seemed sleeping, only awreath or two of smoke rising. Ambrose found the porter looking out forhis master in much perturbation. He groaned as he looked at thetablets, and heard where the Dean was, and said that came of being asaint on earth. It would be the death of him ere long! What would oldMistress Colet, his mother, say? He would have detained the youth withhis inquiries, but Ambrose said he had to speed down to the Temple on anerrand from the Dean, and hurried away. All Ludgate Hill was now quiet, every house closed, but here and there lay torn shreds of garments, orhousehold vessels. As he reached Fleet Street, however, there was a sound of horses' feet, and a body of men-at-arms with helmets glancing in the sun were seen. There was a cry, "There's one! That's one of the lewd younglings! Athim!" And Ambrose to his horror and surprise saw two horsemen begin to galloptowards him, as if to ride him down. Happily he was close to a narrowarchway leading to an alley down which no war-horse could possibly makeits way, and dashing into it and round a corner, he eluded his pursuers, and reached the bank of the river, whence, being by this timeexperienced in the by-ways of London, he could easily reach Perronel'shouse. She was standing at her door looking out anxiously, and as she saw himshe threw up her hands in thanksgiving to our Lady that here he was atlast, and then turned to scold him. "O lad, lad, what a night thou hastgiven me! I trusted at least that thou hadst wit to keep out of a frayand to let the poor aliens alone, thou that art always running afteryonder old Spaniard. Hey! what now? Did they fall on him! Fie! Shameon them!--a harmless old man like that. " "Yea, good aunt, and what is more, they have slain him, I fear me, outright. " Amidst many a "good lack" and exclamation of pity and indignation fromPerronel, Ambrose told his tale of that strange night, and entreated herto come with him to do what was possible for Abenali and his daughter. She hesitated a little; her kind heart was touched, but she hardly likedto leave her house, in case her husband should come in, as he generallycontrived to do in the early morning, now that the Cardinal's householdwas lodged so near her. Sheltered as she was by the buildings of theTemple, she had heard little or nothing of the noise of the riot, thoughshe had been alarmed at her nephew's absence, and an officious neighbourhad run in to tell her first that the prentice lads were up and sackingthe houses of the strangers, and next that the Tower was firing on them, and the Lord Mayor's guard and the gentlemen of the Inns of Court wereup in arms to put them down. She said several times, "Poor soul!" and, "Yea, it were a shame to leave her to the old Dutchkin, " but with trueFlemish deliberation she continued her household arrangements, andinsisted that the bowl of broth, which she set on the table, should bepartaken of by herself and Ambrose before she would stir a step. "Noteat! Now out on thee, lad! what good dost thou think thou or I can doif we come in faint and famished, where there's neither bite nor sup tobe had? As for me, not a foot will I budge, till I have seen thee emptythat bowl. So to it, my lad! Thou hast been afoot all night, andlookst so grimed and ill-favoured a varlet that no man would think thoucamest from an honest wife's house. Wash thee at the pail! Get theeinto thy chamber and put on clean garments, or I'll not walk the streetwith thee! 'Tis not safe--thou wilt be put in ward for one of therioters. " Everybody who entered that little house obeyed Mistress Randall, andAmbrose submitted, knowing it vain to resist, and remembering thepursuit he had recently escaped; yet the very refreshment of food andcleanliness revealed to him how stiff and weary were his limbs, thoughhe was in no mood for rest. His uncle appeared at the door just as hehad hoped Perronel was ready. "Ah! there's one of you whole and safe!" he exclaimed. "Where is theother?" "Stephen?" exclaimed Ambrose. "I saw him last in Warwick Inner Ward. "And in a few words he explained. Hal Randall shook his head. "May allbe well, " he exclaimed, and then he told how Sir Thomas Parr had come atmidnight and roused the Cardinal's household with tidings that all therabble of London were up, plundering and murdering all who came in theirway, and that he had then ridden on to Richmond to the King with thenews. The Cardinal had put his house into a state of defence, notknowing against whom the riot might be directed--and the jester had notbeen awakened till too late to get out to send after his wife, besideswhich, by that time, intelligence had come in that the attack wasdirected entirely on the French and Spanish merchants and artificers indistant parts of the city and suburbs, and was only conducted by ladswith no better weapons than sticks, so that the Temple and its precinctswere in no danger at all. The mob had dispersed of its own accord by about three or four o'clock, but by that hour the Mayor had got together a force, the Gentlemen ofthe Inns of Court and the Yeomen of the Tower were up in arms, and theEarl of Shrewsbury had come in with a troop of horse. They had met therioters, and had driven them in herds like sheep to the differentprisons, after which Lord Shrewsbury had come to report to the Cardinalthat all was quiet, and the jester having gathered as much intelligenceas he could, had contrived to slip into the garments that concealed hismotley, and to reach home. He gave ready consent to Perronel's going tothe aid of the sufferers in Warwick Inner Ward, especially at thesummons of the Dean of Saint Paul's, and even to her bringing home thelittle wench. Indeed, he would escort her thither himself, for he wasvery anxious about Stephen, and Ambrose was so dismayed by the accounthe gave as to reproach himself extremely for having parted company withhis brother, and never having so much as thought of him as in peril, while absorbed in care for Abenali. So the three set out together, whenno doubt the sober, solid appearance which Randall's double suit ofapparel and black gown gave him, together with his wife's matronly andrespectable look, were no small protection to Ambrose, for men-at-armswere prowling about the streets, looking hungry to pick up stragglingvictims; and one actually stopped Randall to interrogate him as to whothe youth was, and what was his errand. Before Saint Paul's they parted, the husband and wife going towardsWarwick Inner Ward, whither Ambrose, fleeter of foot, would follow, sosoon as he had ascertained at the Dragon court whether Stephen was athome. Alas! at the gate he was hailed with the inquiry whether he had seen hisbrother or Giles. The whole yard was disorganised, no work going on. The lads had not been seen all night, and the master himself had in themidst of his displeasure and anxiety been summoned to the Guildhall. The last that was known was Giles's rescue, and the assault on AldermanMundy. Smallbones and Steelman had both gone in different directions tosearch for the two apprentices, and Dennet, who had flown down unheededand unchecked at the first hope of news, pulled Ambrose by the sleeve, and exclaimed, "Oh! Ambrose, Ambrose! they can never hurt them! Theycan never do any harm to _our_ lads, can they?" Ambrose hoped for the same security, but in his dismay, could only hurryafter his uncle and aunt. He found the former at the door of the old stable--whence issued wildscreams and cries. Several priests and attendants were there now, andthe kind Dean with Lucas was trying to induce Aldonza to relax the graspwith which she embraced the body, whence a few moments before the braveand constant spirit had departed. Her black hair hanging over like aveil, she held the inanimate head to her bosom, sobbing and shriekingwith the violence of her Eastern nature. The priest who had been sentfor to take care of the corpse, and bear it to the mortuary of theMinster, wanted to move her by force; but the Dean insisted on one moregentle experiment, and beckoned to the kindly woman, whom he sawadvancing with eyes full of tears. Perronel knelt down by her, persevered when the poor girl stretched out her hand to beat her off, crying, "Off! go! Leave me my father! O father, father, joy of mylife! my one only hope and stay, leave me not! Wake! wake, speak to thychild, O my father!" Though the child had never seen or heard of Eastern wailings over thedead, yet hereditary nature prompted her to the lamentations thatscandalised the priests and even Lucas, who broke in with, "Fie, maid, thou mournest as one who hath no hope. " But Dr Colet still signed tothem to have patience, and Perronel somehow contrived to draw the girl'shead on her breast and give her a motherly kiss, such as the poor childhad never felt since she, when almost a babe, had been lifted from herdying mother's side in the dark stifling hold of the vessel in the Bayof Biscay. And in sheer surprise and sense of being soothed she ceasedher cries, listened to the tender whispers and persuasions about holymen who would care for her father, and his wishes that she should be agood maid--till at last she yielded, let her hands be loosed, allowedPerronel to lift the venerable head from her knee, and close the eyes--then to gather her in her arms, and lead her to the door, taking her, under Ambrose's guidance, into Lucas's abode, which was as utterly andmournfully dismantled as their own, but where Perronel, accustomed inher wandering days to all sorts of contrivances, managed to bind up thestreaming hair, and, by the help of her own cloak, to bring the poorgirl into a state in which she could be led through the streets. The Dean meantime had bidden Lucas to take shelter at his own house, andthe old Dutchman had given a sort of doubtful acceptance. Ambrose, meanwhile, half distracted about his brother, craved counsel ofthe jester where to seek him. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. ILL MAY DAY. "With two and two together tied, Through Temple Bar and Strand they go, To Westminster, there to be tried, Ropes about their necks also. " _Ill May Day_. And where was Stephen? Crouching, wretched with hunger, cold, weariness, blows, and what was far worse, sense of humiliation anddisgrace, and tenor for the future, in a corner of the yard of Newgate--whither the whole set of lads, surprised in Warwick Inner Court by thelaw students of the Inns of Court, had been driven like so many cattle, at the sword's point, with no attention or perception that he and Gileshad been struggling against the spoilers. Yet this fact made them all the more forlorn. The others, some forty innumber, their companions in misfortune, included most of the Barbicanprentices, who were of the Eagle faction, special enemies alike toAbenali and to the Dragon, and these held aloof from Headley andBirkenholt, nay, reviled them for the attack which they declared hadcaused the general capture. The two lads of the Dragon had, in no measured terms, denounced thecruelty to the poor old inoffensive man, and were denounced in theirturn as friends of the sorcerer. But all were too much exhausted by thenight's work to have spirit for more than a snarling encounter of words, and the only effect was that Giles and Stephen were left isolated intheir misery outside the shelter of the handsome arched gateway underwhich the others congregated. Newgate had been rebuilt by Whittington out of pity to poor prisonersand captives. It must have been unspeakably dreadful before, for thefoulness of the narrow paved court, shut in by strong walls, wassomething terrible. Tired, spent, and aching all over, and with boyishcallousness to dirt, still Giles and Stephen hesitated to sit down, andwhen at last they could stand no longer, they rested, leaning againstone another. Stephen tried to keep up hope by declaring that his masterwould soon get them released, and Giles alternated between despair, anddeclarations that he would have justice on those who so treated hisfather's son. They dropped asleep--first one and then the other--fromsheer exhaustion, waking from time to time to realise that it was nodream, and to feel all the colder and more cramped. By and by there were voices at the gate. Friends were there askingafter their own Will, or John, or Thomas, as the case might be. Thejailer opened a little wicket-window in the heavy door, and, no doubtfor a consideration, passed in food to certain lads whom he called out, but it did not always reach its destination. It was often torn away asby hungry wolves. For though the felons had been let out, when thedoors were opened; the new prisoners were not by any means allapprentices. There were watermen, husbandmen, beggars, thieves, amongthem, attracted by the scent of plunder; and even some of the elder ladshad no scruple in snatching the morsel from the younger ones. Poor little Jasper Hope, a mischievous little curly-headed idle fellow, only thirteen, just apprenticed to his brother the draper, and rushingabout with the other youths in the pride of his flat cap, was one of thesufferers. A servant had been at the door, promising that his brotherwould speedily have him released, and handing in bread and meat, ofwhich he was instantly robbed by George Bates and three or four more bigfellows, and sent away reeling and sobbing, under a heavy blow, with allthe mischief and play knocked out of him. Stephen and Giles called"Shame!" but were unheeded, and they could only draw the little fellowup to them, and assure him that his brother would soon come for him. The next call at the gate was Headley and Birkenholt-- "Master Headley's prentices--Be they here?" And at their answer, not only the window, but the door in the gate wasopened, and stooping low to enter, Kit Smallbones came in, and notempty-handed. "Ay, ay, youngsters, " said he, "I knew how it would be, by what I sawelsewhere, so I came with a fee to open locks. How came ye to get intosuch plight as this? And poor little Hope too! A fine pass when theyput babes in jail. " "I'm prenticed!" said Jasper, though in a very weak little voice. "Have you had bite or sup?" asked Kit. And on their reply, telling how those who had had supplies from home hadbeen treated, Smallbones observed, "Let them try it, " and stood, at allhis breadth, guarding the two youths and little Jasper, as they ate, Stephen at first with difficulty, in the dampness and foulness of theplace, but then ravenously. Smallbones lectured them on their folly allthe time, and made them give an account of the night. He said theirmaster was at the Guildhall taking counsel with the Lord Mayor, andthere were reports that it would go hard with the rioters, for murderand plunder had been done in many places, and he especially looked at. Giles with pity, and asked how he came to embroil himself with MasterMundy? Still his good-natured face cheered them, and he promisedfurther supplies. He also relieved Stephen's mind about his brother, telling of his inquiry at the Dragon in the morning. All that day thecondition of such of the prisoners as had well-to-do friends wasimproving. Fathers, brothers, masters, and servants, came in quest ofthem, bringing food and bedding, and by exorbitant fees to the jailersobtained for them shelter in the gloomy cells. Mothers could not come, for a proclamation had gone out that none were to babble, and men wereto keep their wives at home. And though there were more materialcomforts, prospects were very gloomy. Ambrose came when Kit Smallbonesreturned with what Mrs Headley had sent the captives. He looked sadand dazed, and clung to his brother, but said very little, except thatthey ought to be locked up together, and he really would have been leftin Newgate, if Kit had not laid a great hand on his shoulder and almostforced him away. Master Headley himself arrived with Master Hope in the afternoon. Jasper sprang to his brother, crying, "Simon! Simon! you are come totake me out of this dismal, evil place?" But Master Hope--a tall, handsome, grave young man, who had often been much disturbed by hislittle brother's pranks--could only shake his head with tears in hiseyes, and, sitting down on the roll of bedding, take him on his knee andtry to console him with the hope of liberty in a few days. He had tried to obtain the boy's release on the plea of his extremeyouth, but the authorities were hotly exasperated, and would hear of nomercy. The whole of the rioters were to be tried three days hence, andthere was no doubt that some would be made an example of; the onlyquestion was, how many? Master Headley closely interrogated his own two lads, and was evidentlysorely anxious about his namesake, who, he feared, might be recognisedby Alderman Mundy and brought forward as a ringleader of thedisturbance; nor did he feel at all secure that the plea that he had noenmity to the foreigners, but had actually tried to defend Lucas andAbenali, would be attended to for a moment, though Lucas Hansen hadpromised to bear witness of it. Giles looked perfectly stunned at thetime, unable to take in the idea, but at night Stephen was wakened onthe pallet that they shared with little Jasper, by hearing him weepingand sobbing for his mother at Salisbury. Time lagged on till the 4th of May. Some of the poor boys whiled awaytheir time with dreary games in the yard, sometimes wrestling, but moreoften gambling with the dice, that one or two happened to possess, forthe dinners that were provided for the wealthier, sometimes even bettingon what the sentences would be, and who would be hanged, or who escape. Poor lads, they did not, for the most part, realise their real danger, but Stephen was more and more beset with home-sick longing for theglades and thickets of his native forest, and would keep little Jasperand even Giles for an hour together telling of the woodland adventuresof those happy times, shutting his eyes to the grim stone walls, andtrying to think himself among the beeches, hollies, cherries, andhawthorns, shining in the May sun! Giles and he were close friends now, and with little Jasper, said their Paters and Aves together, that theymight be delivered from their trouble. At last, on the 4th, the wholeof the prisoners were summoned roughly into the court, where harsh-looking men-at-arms proceeded to bind them together in pairs to bemarched through the streets to the Guildhall. Giles and Stephen wouldnaturally have been put together, but poor little Jasper cried out solamentably, when he was about to be bound to a stranger, that Stephenstepped forward in his stead, begging that the boy might go with Giles. The soldier made a contemptuous sound, but consented, and Stephen foundthat his companion in misfortune, whose left elbow was tied to hisright, was George Bates. The two lads looked at each other in a strange, rueful manner, andStephen said, "Shake hands, comrade. If we are to die, let us bear noill-will. " George gave a cold, limp, trembling hand. He looked wretched, subdued, tearful, and nearly starved, for he had no kinsfolk at hand, and hismaster was too angry with him, and too much afraid of compromisinghimself to have sent him any supplies. Stephen tried to unbutton hisown pouch, but not succeeding with his left hand, bade George try withhis right. "There's a cake of bread there, " he said. "Eat that, andthou'lt be able better to stand up like a man, come what will. " George devoured it eagerly. "Ah!" he said, in a stronger voice, "Stephen Birkenholt, thou art an honest fellow. I did thee wrong. Ifever we get out of this plight--" Here they were ordered to march, and in a long and doleful processionthey set forth. The streets were lined with men-at-arms, for all theaffections and sympathies of the people were with the unfortunate boys, and a rescue was apprehended. In point of fact, the Lord Mayor and aldermen were afraid of the King'ssupposing them to have organised the assault on their rivals, and eachwas therefore desirous to show severity to any one's apprentices savehis own; while the nobility were afraid of contumacy on the part of thecitizens, and were resolved to crush down every rioter among them, sothat they had filled the city with their armed retainers. Fathers andmothers, masters and dames, sisters and fellow prentices, found theirdoors closely guarded, and could only look with tearful, anxious eyes, at the processions of poor youths, many of them mere children, who weredriven from each of the jails to the Guildhall. There when allcollected the entire number amounted to two hundred and seventy-eightthough a certain proportion of these were grown men, priests, wherrymenand beggars, who had joined the rabble in search of plunder. It did not look well for them that the Duke of Norfolk and his son, theEarl of Surrey, were joined in the commission with the Lord Mayor. Theupper end of the great hall was filled with aldermen in their robes andchains, with the sheriffs of London and the whole imposing array, andthe Lord Mayor with the Duke sat enthroned above them in truly awfuldignity. The Duke was a hard and pitiless man, and bore the City abitter grudge for the death of his retainer, the priest killed inCheapside, and in spite of all his poetical fame, it may be feared thatthe Earl of Surrey was not of much more merciful mood, while their men-at-arms spoke savagely of hanging, slaughtering, or setting the City onfire. The arraignment was very long, as there were so large a number of namesto be read, and, to the horror of all, it was not for a mere riot, butfor high treason. The King, it was declared, being in amity with allChristian princes, it was high treason to break the truce and league byattacking their subjects resident in England. The terrible punishmentof the traitor would thus be the doom of all concerned, and in thetemper of the Howards and their retainers, there was little hope ofmercy, nor, in times like those, was there even much prospect that, outof such large numbers, some might escape. A few were more especially cited, fourteen in number, among them GeorgeBates, Walter Ball, and Giles Headley, who had certainly given cause forthe beginning of the affray. There was no attempt to defend GeorgeBates, who seemed to be stunned and bewildered beyond the power ofspeaking or even of understanding, but as Giles cast his eyes round inwild, terrified appeal, Master Headley rose up in his alderman's gown, and prayed leave to be heard in his defence, as he had witnesses tobring in his favour. "Is he thy son, good Armourer Headley?" demanded the Duke of Norfolk, who held the work of the Dragon court in high esteem. "Nay, my Lord Duke, but he is in the place of one, my near kinsman andgodson, and so soon as his time be up, bound to wed my only child! Ipray you to hear his cause, ere cutting off the heir of an old andhonourable house. " Norfolk and his sons murmured something about the Headley skill inarmour, and the Lord Mayor was willing enough for mercy, but Sir JohnMundy here rose: "My Lord Duke, this is the very young man who was firstto lay hands on me! Yea, my lords and sirs, ye have already heard howtheir rude sport, contrary to proclamation, was the cause of the tumult. When I would have bidden them go home, the one brawler asks meinsolently, `Wherefore?' the other smote me with his sword, whereuponthe whole rascaille set on me, and as Master Alderman Headley cantestify, I scarce reached his house alive. I ask should favour overcomejustice, and a ringleader, who hath assaulted the person of an alderman, find favour above others?" "I ask not for favour, " returned Headley, "only that witnesses be heardon his behalf, ere he be condemned. " Headley, as a favourite with the Duke, prevailed to have permission tocall his witnesses; Christopher Smallbones, who had actually rescuedAlderman Mundy from the mob, and helped him into the Dragon court, couldtestify that the proclamation had been entirely unheard in the din ofthe youths looking on at the game. And this was followed up by LucasHansen declaring that so far from having attacked or plundered him andthe others in Warwick Inner Ward, the two, Giles Headley and StephenBirkenholt, had come to their defence, and fallen on those who wereburning their goods. On this a discussion followed between the authorities seated at theupper end of the hall. The poor anxious watchers below could only guessby the gestures what was being agitated as to their fate, and Stephenwas feeling it sorely hard that Giles should be pleaded for as themaster's kinsman, and he left to so cruel a fate, no one saying a wordfor him but unheeded Lucas. Finally, without giving of judgment, thewhole of the miserable prisoners, who had been standing without food forhours, were marched back, still tied, to their several prisons, whiletheir guards pointed out the gibbets where they were to suffer the nextday. Master Headley was not quite so regardless of his younger apprentice asStephen imagined. There was a sort of little council held in his hallwhen he returned--sad, dispirited, almost hopeless--to find Hal Randallanxiously awaiting him. The alderman said he durst not plead forStephen, lest he should lose both by asking too much, and his youngkinsman had the first right, besides being in the most peril as havingbeen singled out by name; whereas Stephen might escape with themultitude if there were any mercy. He added that the Duke of Norfolkwas certainly inclined to save one who knew the secret of Spanish sword-blades; but that he was fiercely resolved to be revenged for the murderof his lewd priest in Cheapside, and that Sir John Mundy was equallydetermined that Giles should not escape. "What am I to say to his mother? Have I brought him from her for this?"mourned Master Headley. "Ay, and Master Randall, I grieve as much forthy nephew, who to my mind hath done nought amiss. A brave lad! A goodlad, who hath saved mine own life. Would that I could do aught for him!It is a shame!" "Father, " said Dennet, who had crept to the back of his chair, "the Kingwould save him! Mind you the golden whistle that the grandame keepeth?" "The maid hath hit it!" exclaimed Randall. "Master alderman! Let mebut have the little wench and the whistle to-morrow morn, and it isdone. How sayest thou, pretty mistress? Wilt thou go with me and askthy cousin's life, and poor Stephen's, of the King?" "With all my heart, sir, " said Dennet, coming to him with outstretchedhands. "Oh! sir, canst thou save them? I have been vowing all I couldthink of to our Lady and the saints, and now they are going to grantit!" "Tarry a little, " said the alderman. "I must know more of this. Wherewouldst thou take my child? How obtain access to the King's Grace?" "Worshipful sir, trust me, " said Randall. "Thou know'st I am swornservant to my Lord Cardinal, and that his folk are as free of the Courtas the King's own servants. If thine own folk will take us up the riverto Richmond, and there wait for us while I lead the maid to the King, Ican well-nigh swear to thee that she will prevail. " The alderman looked greatly distressed. Ambrose threw himself on hisknees before him, and in an agony entreated him to consent, assuring himthat Master Randall could do what he promised. The alderman was muchperplexed. He knew that his mother, who was confined to her bed byrheumatism, would be shocked at the idea. He longed to accompany hisdaughter himself, but for him to be absent from the sitting of the courtmight be fatal to Giles, and he could not bear to lose any chance forthe poor youths. Meantime an interrogative glance and a nod had passed between Tibble andRandall, and when the alderman looked towards the former, always hisprime minister, the answer was, "Sir, me seemeth that it were well to doas Master Randall counselleth. I will go with Mistress Dennet, if suchbe your will. The lives of two such youths as our prentices may notlightly be thrown away, while by God's providence there is any means ofstriving to save them. " Consent then was given, and it was further arranged that Dennet and herescort should be ready at the early hour of half-past four, so as toelude the guards who were placed in the streets; and also because KingHenry in the summer went very early to mass, and then to some out-of-door sport. Randall said he would have taken his own good woman to havethe care of the little mistress, but that the poor little orphan Spanishwench had wept herself so sick, that she could not be left to astranger. Master Headley himself brought the child by back streets to the river, and thence down to the Temple stairs, accompanied by Tibble Steelman, and a maidservant on whose presence her grandmother had insisted. Dennet had hardly slept all night for excitement and perturbation, andshe looked very white, small, and insignificant for her thirteen years, when Randall and Ambrose met her, and placed her carefully in the bargewhich was to take them to Richmond. It was somewhat fresh in the veryearly morning, and no one was surprised that Master Randall wore a largedark cloak as they rowed up the river. There was very little speechbetween the passengers; Dennet sat between Ambrose and Tibble. Theykept their heads bowed. Ambrose's brow was on one hand, his elbow onhis knee, but he spared the other to hold Dennet. He had been longingfor the old assurance he would once have had, that to vow himself to alife of hard service in a convent would be the way to win his brother'slife; but he had ceased to be able to feel that such bargains were theright course, or that a convent necessarily afforded sure way ofservice, and he never felt more insecure of the way and means to prayerthan in this hour of anguished supplication. When they came beyond the City, within sight of the trees of Sheen, asRichmond was still often called, Randall insisted that Dennet should eatsome of the bread and meat that Tibble had brought in a wallet for her. "She must look her best, " he said aside to the foreman. "I would thatshe were either more a babe or better favoured! Our Hal hath a tenderheart for a babe and an eye for a buxom lass. " He bade the maid trim up the child's cap and make the best of her array, and presently reached some stairs leading up to the park. There he letAmbrose lift her out of the boat. The maid would fain have followed, but he prevented this, and when she spoke of her mistress having biddenher follow wherever the child went, Tibble interfered, telling her thathis master's orders were that Master Randall should do with her as hethought meet. Tibble himself followed until they reached a thicketentirely concealing them from the river. Halting here, Randall, withhis nephew's help, divested himself of his long gown and cloak, hisbeard and wig, produced cockscomb and bauble from his pouch, and stoodbefore the astonished eyes of Dennet as the jester! She recoiled upon Tibble with a little cry, "Oh, why should he makesport of us? Why disguise himself?" "Listen, pretty mistress, " said Randall. "'Tis no disguise, Tibblethere can tell you, or my nephew. My disguise lies there, " pointing tohis sober raiment. "Thus only can I bring thee to the King's presence!Didst think it was jest? Nay, verily, I am as bound to try to save mysweet Stevie's life, my sister's own gallant son, as thou canst be toplead for thy betrothed. " Dennet winced. "Ay, Mistress Dennet, " said Tibble, "thou mayst trust him, spite of hisgarb, and 'tis the sole hope. He could only thus bring thee in. Gothou on, and the lad and I will fall to our prayers. " Dennet's bosom heaved, but she looked up in the jester's dark eyes, sawthe tears in them, made an effort, put her hand in his, and said, "Iwill go with him. " Hal led her away, and they saw Tibble and Ambrose both fall on theirknees behind the hawthorn bush, to speed them with their prayers, whileall the joyous birds singing their carols around seemed to protestagainst the cruel captivity and dreadful doom of the young gladsomespirits pent up in the City prisons. One full gush of a thrush's song in especial made Dennet's eyesoverflow, which the jester perceived and said, "Nay, sweet maid, notears. Kings brook not to be approached with blubbered faces. I marvelnot that it seems hard to thee to go along with such as I, but let me bewhat I will outside, mine heart is heavy enough, and thou wilt learnsooner or later, that fools are not the only folk who needs must smilewhen they have a load within. " And then, as much to distract her thoughts and prevent tears as toreassure her, he told her what he had before told his nephews of theinducements that had made him Wolsey's jester, and impressed on her theforms of address. "Thou'lt hear me make free with him, but that's part of mine office, like the kitten I've seen tickling the mane of the lion in the Tower. Thou must say, `An it please your Grace, ' and thou needst not speak ofhis rolling in the mire, thou wottest, or it may anger him. " The girl showed that her confidence became warmer by keeping nearer tohis side, and presently she said, "I must beg for Stephen first, for'tis his whistle. " "Blessings on thee, fair wench, for that, yet seest thou, 'tis the otherspringald who is in the greater peril, and he is closer to thy fatherand to thee. " "He fled, when Stephen made in to the rescue of my father, " said Dennet. "The saints grant we may so work with the King that he may spare themboth, " ejaculated Randall. By this time the strange pair were reaching the precincts of the greatdwelling-house, where about the wide-open door loitered gentlemen, grooms, lacqueys, and attendants of all kinds. Randall reconnoitred. "An we go up among all these, " he said, "they might make their sport ofus both, so that we might lose time. Let us see whether the littlegarden postern be open. " Henry the Eighth had no fears of his people, and kept his dwellings moreaccessible than were the castles of many a subject. The door in thewall proved to be open, and with an exclamation of joy, Randall pointedout two figures, one in a white silken doublet and hose, with a shortcrimson cloak over his shoulder, the other in scarlet and purple robes, pacing the walk under the wall--Henry's way of holding a cabinet councilwith his prime minister on a summer's morning. "Come on, mistress, put a brave face on it!" the jester encouraged thegirl, as he led her forward, while the king, catching sight of them, exclaimed, "Ha! there's old Patch. What doth he there?" But the Cardinal, impatient of interruption, spoke imperiously, "Whatdost thou here, Merriman? Away, this is no time for thy fooleries andfrolics. " But the King, with some pleasure in teasing, and some of the enjoymentof a schoolboy at a break in his tasks, called out, "Nay, come hither, quipsome one! What new puppet hast brought hither to play off on us?" "Yea, brother Hal, " said the jester, "I have brought one to let theeknow how Tom of Norfolk and his crew are playing the fool in theGuildhall, and to ask who will be the fool to let them wreak their spiteon the best blood in London, and leave a sore that will take many a dayto heal. " "How is this, my Lord Cardinal?" said Henry; "I bade them make anexample of a few worthless hinds, such as might teach the lusty burghersto hold their lads in bounds and prove to our neighbours that theirchurlishness was by no consent of ours. " "I trow, " returned the Cardinal, "that one of these same hinds is a booncompanion of the fool's--_hinc illae lachrymae_, and a speech that wouldhave befitted a wise man's mouth. " "There is work that may well make even a fool grave, friend Thomas, "replied the jester. "Nay, but what hath this little wench to say?" asked the King, lookingdown on the child from under his plumed cap with a face set in goldenhair, the fairest and sweetest, as it seemed to her, that she had everseen, as he smiled upon her. "Methinks she is too small to be thy love. Speak out, little one. I love little maids, I have one of mine own. Hast thou a brother among these misguided lads?" "Not so, an please your Grace, " said Dennet, who fortunately was not inthe least shy, and was still too young for a maiden's shamefastness. "He is to be my betrothed. I would say, one of them is, but the other--he saved my father's life once. " The latter words were lost in the laughter of the King and Cardinal atthe unblushing avowal of the small, prim-faced maiden. "Oh ho! So 'tis a case of true love, whereto a King's face must needsshow grace. Who art thou, fair suppliant, and who may this swain ofthine be?" "I am Dennet Headley, so please your Grace; my father is Giles Headleythe armourer, Alderman of Cheap Ward, " said Dennet, doing her partbravely, though puzzled by the King's tone of banter; "and see here, your Grace!" "Ha! the hawk's whistle that Archduke Philip gave me! What of that? Igave it--ay, I gave it to a youth that came to mine aid, and reclaimed afalcon for me! Is't he, child?" "Oh, sir, 'tis he who came in second at the butts, next to Barlow, 'tisStephen Birkenholt! And he did nought! They bore no ill-will tostrangers! No, they were falling on the wicked fellows who had robbedand slain good old Master Michael, who taught our folk to make the onlyreal true Damascus blades welded in England. But the lawyers of theInns of Court fell on them all alike, and have driven them off toNewgate, and poor little Jasper Hope too. And Alderman Mundy bears ill-will to Giles. And the cruel Duke of Norfolk and his men swear they'llhave vengeance on the Cheap, and there'll be hanging and quartering thisvery morn. Oh! your Grace, your Grace, save our lads! for Stephen savedmy father. " "Thy tongue wags fast, little one, " said the King, good-naturedly, "withthy Stephen and thy Giles. Is this same Stephen, the knight of thewhistle and the bow, thy betrothed, and Giles thy brother?" "Nay, your Grace, " said Dennet, hanging her head, "Giles Headley is mybetrothed--that is, when his time is served, he will be--father setsgreat store by him, for he is the only one of our name to keep up thearmoury, and he has a mother, Sir, a mother at Salisbury. But oh, Sir, Sir! Stephen is so good and brave a lad! He made in to save fatherfrom the robbers, and he draws the best bow in Cheapside, and he cangrave steel as well as Tibble himself, and this is the whistle yourGrace wots of. " Henry listened with an amused smile that grew broader as Dennet's voiceall unconsciously became infinitely more animated and earnest, when shebegan to plead Stephen's cause. "Well, well, sweetheart, " he said, "I trow thou must have the twain ofthem, though, " he added to the Cardinal, who smiled broadly, "it mightperchance be more for the maid's peace than she wots of now, were we toleave this same knight of the whistle to be strung up at once, ere shehave found her heart; but in sooth that I cannot do, owing well-nigh alife to him and his brother. Moreover, we may not have old Headley'sskill in weapons lost!" Dennet held her hands close clasped while these words were spoken apart. She felt as if her hope, half granted, were being snatched from her, asanother actor appeared on the scene, a gentleman in a lawyer's gown, andsquare cap, which he doffed as he advanced and put his knee to theground before the King, who greeted him with, "Save you, good SirThomas, a fair morning to you. " "They told me your Grace was in Council with my Lord Cardinal, " said SirThomas More; "but seeing that there was likewise this merry company, Idurst venture to thrust in, since my business is urgent. " Dennet here forgot court manners enough to cry out, "O your Grace! yourGrace, be pleased for pity's sake to let me have the pardon for themfirst, or they'll be hanged and dead. I saw the gallows in Cheapside, and when they are dead, what good will your Grace's mercy do them?" "I see, " said Sir Thomas. "This little maid's errand jumps with mineown, which was to tell your Grace that unless there be speedy commandsto the Howards to hold their hands, there will be wailing like that ofEgypt in the City. The poor boys, who were but shouting and brawlingafter the nature of mettled youth--the most with nought of malice--arepenned up like sheep for the slaughter--ay, and worse than sheep, for wequarter not our mutton alive, whereas these poor younglings--babes ofthirteen, some of them--be indicted for high treason! Will the parents, shut in from coming to them by my Lord of Norfolks men, ever forgettheir agonies, I ask your Grace?" Henry's face grew red with passion. "If Norfolk thinks to act the King, and turn the city into a shambles, "--with a mighty oath--"he shall abyeit. Here, Lord Cardinal--more, let the free pardon be drawn up for thetwo lads. And we will ourselves write to the Lord Mayor and to Norfolkthat though they may work their will on the movers of the riot--thatpestilent Lincoln and his sort--not a prentice lad shall be touched tillour pleasure be known. There now, child, thou hast won the lives of thylads, as thou callest them. Wilt thou rue the day, I marvel? Whycannot some of their mothers pluck up spirit and beg them off as thouhast done?" "Yea, " said Wolsey. "That were the right course. If the Queen weremoved to pray your Grace to pity the striplings, then could theSpaniards make no plaint of too much clemency being shown. " They were all this time getting nearer the palace, and being now at adoor opening into the hall, Henry turned round. "There, pretty maid, spread the tidings among thy gossips, that they have a tender-heartedQueen, and a gracious King. The Lord Cardinal will presently give theethe pardon for both thy lads, and by and by thou wilt know whether thouthankest me for it!" Then putting his hand under her chin, he turned upher face to him, kissed her on each cheek, and touched his feathered capto the others, saying, "See that my bidding be done, " and disappeared. "It must be prompt, if it be to save any marked for death this morn, "More in a low voice observed to the Cardinal. "Lord Edmund Howard iskeen as a bloodhound on his vengeance. " Wolsey was far from being a cruel man, and besides, there was a naturalantagonism between him and the old nobility, and he liked and valued hisfool, to whom he turned, saying, "And what stake hast thou in this, sirrah? Is't all pure charity?" "I'm scarce such a fool as that, Cousin Red Hat, " replied Randall, rallying his powers. "I leave that to Mr More here, whom we all knowto be a good fool spoilt. But I'll make a clean breast of it. Thissame Stephen is my sister's son, an orphan lad of good birth andbreeding--whom, my lord, I would die to save. " "Thou shalt have the pardon instantly, Merriman, " said the Cardinal, andbeckoning to one of the attendants who clustered round the door, he gaveorders that a clerk should instantly, and very briefly, make out theform. Sir Thomas More, hearing the name of Headley, added that for himindeed the need of haste was great, since he was one of the fourteensentenced to die that morning. Quipsome Hal was interrogated as to how he had come, and the Cardinaland Sir Thomas agreed that the river would be as speedy a way ofreturning as by land; but they decided that a King's pursuivant shouldaccompany him, otherwise there would be no chance of forcing his way intime through the streets, guarded by the Howard retainers. As rapidly as was in the nature of a high officer's clerk to produce adozen lines, the precious document was indicted, and it was carried atlast to Dennet, bearing Henry's signature and seal. She held it to herbosom, while, accompanied by the pursuivant, who--happily for them--wasinterested in one of the unfortunate fourteen, and therefore did notwait to stand on his dignity, they hurried across to the place wherethey had left the barge--Tibble and Ambrose joining them on the way. Stephen was safe. Of his life there could be no doubt, and Ambrosealmost repented of feeling his heart so light while Giles's fate hungupon their speed. The oars were plied with hearty good-will, but the barge was somewhatheavy, and by and by coming to a landing-place where two watermen had amuch smaller and lighter boat, the pursuivant advised that he should goforward with the more necessary persons, leaving the others to follow. After a few words, the light weights of Tibble and Dennet prevailed intheir favour, and they shot forward in the little boat. They passed the Temple--on to the stairs nearest Cheapside--up thestreet. There was an awful stillness, only broken by heavy knellssounding at intervals from the churches. The back streets were throngedby a trembling, weeping people, who all eagerly made way for thepursuivant, as he called, "Make way, good people--a pardon!" They saw the broader space of Cheapside. Horsemen in armour guarded it, but they too opened a passage for the pursuivant. There was to be seenabove the people's heads a scaffold. A fire burnt on it--the gallowsand noosed rope hung above. A figure was mounting the ladder. A boy! Oh, Heavens! would it be toolate? Who was it? They were still too far off to see. They might onlybe cruelly holding out hope to one of the doomed. The pursuivant shouted aloud--"In the King's name, Hold!" He liftedDennet on his shoulder, and bade her wave her parchment. Anoverpowering roar arose. "A pardon! a pardon! God save the King!" Every hand seemed to be forwarding the pursuivant and the child, and itwas Giles Headley, who, loosed from the hold of the executioner, staredwildly about him, like one distraught. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. PARDON. "`What if, ' quoth she, `by Spanish blood Have London's stately streets been wet, Yet will I seek this country's good And pardon for these young men get. '" Churchill. The night and morning had been terrible to the poor boys, who only hadbegun to understand what awaited them. The fourteen selected had littlehope, and indeed a priest came in early morning to hear the confessionsof Giles Headley and George Bates, the only two who were in Newgate. George Bates was of the stolid, heavy disposition that seems armed byoutward indifference, or mayhap pride. He knew that his case washopeless, and he would not thaw even to the priest. But Giles had beenquite unmanned, and when he found that for the doleful procession to theGuildhall he was to be coupled with George Bates, instead of either ofhis room-fellows, he flung himself on Stephen's neck, sobbing outmessages for his mother, and entreaties that, if Stephen survived, hewould be good to Aldonza. "For you will wed Dennet, and--" There the jailers roughly ordered him to hold his peace, and dragged himoff to be pinioned to his fellow-sufferer. Stephen was not called tillsome minutes later, and had not seen him since. He himself was ofcourse overshadowed by the awful gloom of apprehension for himself, andpity for his comrades, and he was grieved at not having seen or heard ofhis brother or master, but he had a very present care in Jasper, who wassickening in the prison atmosphere, and when fastened to his arm, seemedhardly able to walk. Leashed as they were, Stephen could only help himby holding the free hand, and when they came to the hall, supporting himas much as possible, as they stood in the miserable throng during theconclusion of the formalities, which ended by the horrible sentence ofthe traitor being pronounced on the whole two hundred and seventy-eight. Poor little Jasper woke for an interval from the sense of presentdiscomfort to hear it. He seemed to stiffen all over with the shock ofhorror, and then hung a dead weight on Stephen's arm. It would havedragged him down, but there was no room to fall, and the wretchedness ofthe lad against whom he staggered found vent in a surly imprecation, which was lost among the cries and the entreaties of some of the others. The London magistracy were some of them in tears, but the indictmentfor high treason removed the poor lads from their jurisdiction to thatof the Earl Marshal, and thus they could do nothing to save the fourteenforemost victims. The others were again driven out of the hall toreturn to their prisons; the nearest pair of lads doing their best tohelp Stephen drag his burthen along in the halt outside, to arrange thesad processions, one of the guards, of milder mood, cut the cord thatbound the lifeless weight to Stephen, and permitted the child to be laidon the stones of the court, his collar unbuttoned, and water to bebrought. Jasper was just reviving when the word came to march, butstill he could not stand, and Stephen was therefore permitted the freeuse of his arms, in order to carry the poor little fellow. Thirteenyears made a considerable load for seventeen, though Stephen's arms wereexercised in the smithy, and it was a sore pull from the Guildhall. Jasper presently recovered enough to walk with a good deal of support. When he was laid on the bed he fell into an exhausted sleep, whileStephen kneeling, as the strokes of the knell smote on his ear, prayed--as he had never prayed before--for his comrade, for his enemy, and forall the unhappy boys who were being led to their death wherever theoutrages had been committed. Once indeed there was a strange sound coming across that of the knell. It almost sounded like an acclamation of joy. Could people be so cruel, thought Stephen, as to mock poor Giles's agonies? There were the knellsstill sounding. How long he did not know, for a beneficent drowsinessstole over him as he knelt, and he was only awakened, at the same timeas Jasper, by the opening of his door. He looked up to see three figures--his brother, his uncle, his master. Were they come to take leave of him? But the one conviction that theirfaces beamed with joy was all that he could gather, for little Jaspersprang up with a scream of terror, "Stephen, Stephen, save me! Theywill cut out my heart, " and clung trembling to his breast, with armsround his neck. "Poor child! poor child!" sighed Master Headley. "Would that I broughthim the same tidings as to thee!" "Is it so?" asked Stephen, reading confirmation as he looked from theone to the other. Though he was unable to rise under the weight of theboy, life and light were coming to his eye, while Ambrose clasped hishand tightly, choked by the swelling of his heart in almost an agony ofjoy and thankfulness. "Yea, my good lad, " said the alderman. "Thy good kinsman took my littlewench to bear to the King the token he gave thee. " "And Giles?" Stephen asked, "and the rest?" "Giles is safe. For the rest--may God have mercy on their souls. " These words passed while Stephen rocked Jasper backwards and forwards, his face hidden on his neck. "Come home, " added Master Headley. "My little Dennet and Giles cannotyet rejoice till thou art with them. Giles would have come himself, buthe is sorely shaken, and could scarce stand. " Jasper caught the words, and loosing his friend's neck, looked up. "Oh!are we going home? Come, Stephen. Where's brother Simon? I want mygood sister! I want nurse! Oh! take me home!" For as he tried to situp, he fell back sick and dizzy on the bed. "Alack! alack!" mourned Master Headley; and the jester, muttering thatit was not the little wench's fault, turned to the window, and burstinto tears. Stephen understood it all, and though he felt a passionatelonging for freedom, he considered in one moment whether there were anyone of his fellow prisoners to whom Jasper could be left, or who wouldbe of the least comfort to him, but could find no one, and resolved tocling to him as once to old Spring. "Sir, " he said, as he rose to his master, "I fear me he is very sick. Will they--will your worship give me licence to bide with him till thisends?" "Thou art a good-hearted lad, " said the alderman with a hand on hisshoulder. "There is no further danger of life to the prentice lads. The King hath sent to forbid all further dealing with them, and hathbidden my little maid to set it about that if their mothers beg themgrace from good Queen Katherine, they shall have it. But this poorchild! He can scarce be left. His brother will take it well of thee ifthou wilt stay with him till some tendance can be had. We can see tothat. Thanks be to Saint George and our good King, this good City isour own again!" The alderman turned away, and Ambrose and Stephen exchanged a passionateembrace, feeling what it was to be still left to one another. Thejester too shook his nephew's hand, saying, "Boy, boy, the blessing ofsuch as I is scarce worth the having, but I would thy mother could seethee this day. " Stephen was left with these words and his brother's look to bear himthrough a trying time. For the "Captain of Newgate" was an autocrat, who looked on his captivesas compulsory lodgers, out of whom he was entitled to wring as much aspossible--as indeed he had no other salary, nor means of maintaining hisunderlings, a state of things which lasted for two hundred years longer, until the days of James Oglethorpe and John Howard. Even in the rarecases of acquittals, the prisoner could not be released till he had paidhis fees, and that Giles Headley should have been borne off from thescaffold itself in debt to him was an invasion of his privileges, whichdid not dispose him to be favourable to any one connected with thataffair; and he liked to show his power and dignity even to an alderman. He was found sitting in a comfortable tapestried chamber, handsomelydressed in orange and brown, and with a smooth sleek countenance and theappearance of a good-natured substantial citizen. He only half rose from his big carved chair, and touched withoutremoving his cap, to greet the alderman, as he observed, without theaccustomed prefix of your worship--"So, you are come about yourprentice's fees and dues. By Saint Peter of the Fetters, 'tis anirksome matter to have such a troop of idle, mischievous, daintystriplings thrust on one, giving more trouble, and making more call andoutcry than twice as many honest thieves and pickpurses. " "Be assured, sir, they will scarce trouble you longer than they canhelp, " said Master Headley. "Yea, the Duke and my Lord Edmund are making brief work of them, " quoththe jailer. "Ha!" with an oath, "what's that? Nought will daunt thoselads till the hangman is at their throats. " For it was a real hurrah that reached his ears. The jester had got allthe boys round him in the court, and was bidding them keep up a goodheart, for their lives were safe, and their mothers would beg them off. Their shouts did not tend to increase the captain's good humour, andthough he certainly would not have let out Alderman Headley's remainingapprentice without his fee, he made as great a favour of permission, andcharged as exorbitantly, for a pardoned man to remain within his domainsas if they had been the most costly and delightful hostel in thekingdom. Master Hope, who presently arrived, had to pay a high fee for leave tobring Master Todd, the barber-surgeon, with him to see his brother; butthough he offered a mark a day, (a huge amount at that time), thecaptain was obdurate in refusing to allow the patient to be attended byhis own old nurse, declaring that it was contrary to discipline, and, (what probably affected him much more), one such woman could cause moretrouble than a dozen felons. No doubt it was true, for she would haveinsisted on moderate cleanliness and comfort. No other attendant whomMr Hope could find would endure the disgrace, the discomfort, and alarmof a residence in Newgate for Jasper's sake; so that the draper'sgratitude to Stephen Birkenholt, for voluntarily sharing the littlefellow's captivity, was great, and he gave payment to one or two of theofficials to secure the two lads being civilly treated, and that theprovisions sent in reached them duly. Jasper did not in general seem very ill by day, only heavy, listless anddull, unable to eat, too giddy to sit up, and unable to help crying likea babe, if Stephen left him for a moment; but he never fell asleepwithout all the horror and dread of the sentence coming over him. Likeall the boys in London, he had gazed at executions with the sort ofcuriosity that leads rustic lads to run to see pigs killed, and now thedetails came over him in semi-delirium, as acted out on himself, and heshrieked and struggled in an anguish which was only mitigated byStephen's reassurances, caresses, even scoldings. The other youths, relieved from the apprehension of death, agreed to regard theirdetention as a holiday, and not being squeamish, turned the yard into aplayground, and there they certainly made uproar, and played pranks, enough to justify the preference of the captain for full growncriminals. But Stephen could not join them, for Jasper would not sparehim for an instant, and he himself, though at first sorely missingemployment and exercise, was growing drowsy and heavy limbed in hiscramped life and the evil atmosphere, even the sick longings for libertywere gradually passing away from him, so that sometimes he felt as if hehad lived here for ages and known no other life, though no sooner did helie down to rest, and shut his eyes, than the trees and green glades ofthe New Forest rose before him, with all the hollies shining in thesummer light, or the gorse making a sheet of gold. The time was not in reality so very long. On the 7th of May, JohnLincoln, the broker, who had incited Canon Beale to preach against theforeigners, was led forth with several others of the real promoters ofthe riot to the centre of Cheapside, where Lincoln was put to death, butorders were brought to respite the rest; and, at the same time, all thearmed men were withdrawn, the City began to breathe, and the women whohad been kept within doors to go abroad again. The Recorder of London and several aldermen were to meet the King at hismanor at Greenwich. This was the mothers' opportunity. The civicdignitaries rode in mourning robes, but the wives and mothers, sweethearts and sisters, every woman who had a youth's life at stake, came together, took boat, and went down the river, a strange fleet ofbarges, all containing white caps, and black gowns and hoods, for allwere clad in the most correct and humble citizen's costume. "Never was such a sight, " said Jester Randall, who had taken care tosecure a view, and who had come with his report to the Dragon court. "It might have been Ash Wednesday for the look of them, when they landedand got into order. One would think every prentice lad had got at leastthree mothers, and four or five aunts and sisters! I trow, verily, thathalf of them came to look on at the other half, and get a sight ofGreenwich and the three queens. However, be that as it might, not oneof them but knew how to open the sluices. Queen Katharine noted wellwhat was coming, and she and the Queens of Scotland and France sat inthe great chamber with the doors open. And immediately there's a knockat the door, and so soon as the usher opens it, in they come, three andthree, every good wife of them with her napkin to her eyes, and workingaway with her sobs. Then Mistress Todd, the barber-surgeon's wife, shespoke for all, being thought to have the more courtly tongue, havingbeen tirewoman to Queen Mary ere she went to France. Verily her husbandmust have penned the speech for her--for it began right scholarly, andflowery, with a likening of themselves to the mothers of Bethlehem, (lusty innocents theirs, I trow!) but ere long the good woman falteredand forgot her part, and broke out `Oh! madam, you that are a motheryourself for the sake of your own sweet babe, give us back our sons. 'And therewith they all fell on their knees, weeping and wringing theirhands, and crying out, `Mercy, mercy! For our Blessed Lady's sake, havepity on our children!' till the good Queen, with the tears running downher cheeks for very ruth, told them that the power was not in her hands, but the will was for them and their poor sons, and that she would striveso to plead for them with the King as to win their freedom. Meantime, there were the aldermen watching for the King in his chamber ofpresence, till forth he came, when all fell on their knees, and theRecorder spake for them, casting all the blame on the vain and lightpersons who had made that enormity. Thereupon what does our Hal butmake himself as stern as though he meant to string them all up in aline. `Ye ought to wail and be sorry, ' said he, `whereas ye say thatsubstantial persons were not concerned, it appeareth to the contrary. You did wink at the matter, ' quoth he, `and at this time we will grantyou neither favour nor goodwill. ' However, none who knew Hal's eye butcould tell that 'twas all very excellent fooling, when he bade them getto the Cardinal. Therewith, in came the three queens, hand in hand, with tears in their eyes, so as they might have been the three queensthat bore away King Arthur, and down they went on their knees, and criedaloud `Dear sir, we who are mothers ourselves, beseech you to set thehearts at ease of all the poor mothers who are mourning for their sons. 'Whereupon, the door being opened, came in so piteous a sound of wailingand lamentation as our Harry's name must have been Herod to withstand!`Stand up, Kate, ' said he, `stand up, sisters, and hark in your ear. Not a hair of the silly lads shall be touched, but they must bide lockand key long enough to teach them and their masters to keep betterward. ' And then when the queens came back with the good tidings, such astorm of blessings was never heard, laughings and cryings, and the like, for verily some of the women seemed as distraught for joy as ever theyhad been for grief and fear. Moreover, Mistress Todd, being instructedof her husband, led up Mistress Hope to Queen Mary, and told her thetale of how her husband's little brother, a mere babe, lay sick inprison--a mere babe, a suckling as it were--and was like to die there, unless the sooner delivered, and how our Steve was fool enough to tarrywith the poor child, pardoned though he be. Then the good lady weptagain, and `Good woman, ' saith she to Mistress Hope, `the King will setthy brother free anon. His wrath is not with babes, nor with lads likethis other of whom thou speakest. ' "So off was she to the King again, and though he and his master pishedand pshawed, and said if one and another were to be set free privily inthis sort, there would be none to come and beg for mercy as a warning toall malapert youngsters to keep within bounds, `Nay, verily, ' quoth I, seeing the moment for shooting a fool's bolt among them, `methinksMaster Death will have been a pick-lock before you are ready for them, and then who will stand to cry mercy?'" The narrative was broken off short by a cry of jubilee in the court. Workmen, boys, and all were thronging together, Kit Smallbones' headtowering in the midst. Vehement welcomes seemed in progress. "Stephen!Stephen!" shouted Dennet, and flew out of the hail and down the steps. "The lad himself!" exclaimed the jester, leaping down after her. "Stephen, the good boy!" said Master Headley, descending more slowly, but not less joyfully. Yes, Stephen himself it was, who had quietly walked into the court. Master Hope and Master Todd had brought the order for Jasper's release, had paid the captain's exorbitant fees for both, and, while the sick boywas carried home in a litter, Stephen had entered the Dragon courtthrough the gates, as if he were coming home from an errand; though themoment he was recognised by the little four-year old Smallbones, therehad been a general rush and shout of ecstatic welcome, led by GilesHeadley, who fairly threw himself on Stephen's neck, as they met likecomrades after a desperate battle. Not one was there who did not claima grasp of the boy's hand, and who did not pour out welcomes andgreetings; while in the midst, the released captive looked, to say thetruth, very spiritless, faded, dusty, nay dirty. The court seemedspinning round with him, and the loud welcomes roared in his ears. Hewas glad that Dennet took one hand, and Giles the other, declaring thathe must be led to the grandmother instantly. He muttered something about being in too foul trim to go near her, butDennet held him fast, and he was too dizzy to make much resistance. OldMrs Headley was better again, though not able to do much but sit by thefire kept burning to drive away the plague which was always smoulderingin London. She held out her hands to Stephen, as he knelt down by her. "Take anold woman's blessing, my good youth, " she said. "Right glad am I to seethee once more. Thou wilt not be the worse for the pains thou hastspent on the little lad, though they have tried thee sorely. " Stephen, becoming somewhat less dazed, tried to fulfil his long-cherished intention of thanking Dennet for her intercession, but theinstant he tried to speak, to his dismay and indignation, tears chokedhis voice, and he could do nothing but weep, as if, thought he, hismanhood had been left behind in the jail. "Vex not thyself, " said the old dame, as she saw him struggling with hissobs. "Thou art worn-out--Giles here was not half his own man when hecame out, nor is he yet. Nay, beset him not, children. He should go tohis chamber, change these garments, and rest ere supper-time. " Stephen was fain to obey, only murmuring an inquiry for his brother, towhich his uncle responded that if Ambrose were at home, the tidingswould send him to the Dragon instantly; but he was much with his oldmaster, who was preparing to leave England, his work here being ruined. The jester then took leave, accepting conditionally an invitation tosupper. Master Headley, Smallbones, and Tibble now knew who he was, butthe secret was kept from all the rest of the household, lest Stephenshould be twitted with the connection. Cold water was not much affected by the citizens of London, but smiths'and armourers' work entailed a freer use of it than less grimy trades;and a bath and Sunday garments made Stephen more like himself, thoughstill he felt so weary and depressed that he missed the buoyant joy ofrelease to which he had been looking forward. He was sitting on the steps, leaning against the rail, so much tiredthat he hoped none of his comrades would notice that he had come out, when Ambrose hurried into the court, having just heard tidings of hisfreedom, and was at his side at once. The two brothers sat together, leaning against one another as if they had all that they could wish orlong for. They had not met for more than a week, for Ambrose's financeshad not availed to fee the turnkeys to give him entrance. "And what art thou doing, Ambrose?" asked Stephen, rousing a little fromhis lethargy. "Methought I heard mine uncle say thine occupation wasgone?" "Even so, " replied Ambrose. "Master Lucas will sail in a week's time tojoin his brother at Rotterdam, bearing with him what he hath been ableto save out of the havoc. I wot not if I shall ever see the good manmore. " "I am glad thou dost not go with him, " said Stephen, with a hand on hisbrother's leather-covered knee. "I would not put seas between us, " returned Ambrose. "Moreover, thoughI grieve to lose my good master, who hath been so scurvily entreatedhere, yet, Stephen, this trouble and turmoil hath brought me that whichI longed for above all, even to have speech with the Dean of SaintPaul's. " He then told Stephen how he had brought Dean Colet to administer thelast rites to Abenali, and how that good man had bidden Lucas to takeshelter at the Deanery, in the desolation of his own abode. This hadled to conversation between the Dean and the printer; Lucas, whodistrusted all ecclesiastics, would accept no patronage. He had alittle hoard, buried in the corner of his stall, which would suffice tocarry him to his native home and he wanted no more; but he had spoken ofAmbrose, and the Dean was quite ready to be interested in the youth whohad led him to Abenali. "He had me to his privy chamber, " said Ambrose, "and spake to me as noman hath yet spoken--no, not even Tibble. He let me utter all my mind, nay, I never wist before even what mine own thoughts were till he setthem before me--as it were in a mirror. " "Thou wast ever in a harl, " said Stephen, drowsily, using the Hampshireword for whirl or entanglement. "Yea. On the one side stood all that I had ever believed or learntbefore I came hither of the one true and glorious Mother-Church to whomthe Blessed Lord had committed the keys of His kingdom, through His holymartyrs and priests to give us the blessed host and lead us in the wayof salvation. And on the other side, I cannot but see the lewd andsinful and worldly lives of the most part, and hear the lies wherebythey amass wealth and turn men from the spirit of truth and holiness todelude them into believing that wilful sin can be committed withoutharm, and that purchase of a parchment is as good as repentance. Thatdo I see and hear. And therewith my master Lucas and Dan Tindall, andthose of the new light, declare that all has been false even from thevery outset, and that all the pomp and beauty is but Satan's bait, andthat to believe in Christ alone is all that needs to justify us, castingall the rest aside. All seemed a mist, and I was swayed hither andthither till the more I read and thought, the greater was the fog. Andthis--I know not whether I told it to yonder good and holy doctor, orwhether he knew it, for his eyes seemed to see into me, and he told methat he had felt and thought much the same. But on that one greattruth, that faith in the Passion is salvation, is the Church built, though sinful men have hidden it by their errors and lies as befellbefore among the Israelites, whose law, like ours, was divine. Whateveris entrusted to man, he said, will become stained, soiled, and twisted, though the power of the Holy Spirit will strive to renew it. And suchan outpouring of cleansing and renewing power is, he saith, abroad inour day. When he was a young man, this good father, so he said, hopedgreat things, and did his best to set forth the truth, both at Oxfordand here, as indeed he hath ever done, he and the good Doctor Erasmus, striving to turn men's eyes back to the simplicity of God's Word ratherthan to the arguments and deductions of the schoolmen. And for theabuses of evil priests that have sprung up, my Lord Cardinal sought theLegatine Commission from our holy father at Rome to deal with them. ButDr Colet saith that there are other forces at work, and he doubtethgreatly whether this same cleansing can be done without some great andterrible rending and upheaving, that may even split the Church as itwere asunder--since judgment surely awaiteth such as will not bereformed. But, quoth he, `our Mother-Church is God's own Church and Iwill abide by her to the end, as the means of oneness with my Lord andHead, and do thou the same, my son, for thou art like to be more sorelytried than will a frail old elder like me, who would fain say his _NuncDimittis_, if such be the Lord's will, ere the foundations be castdown. '" Ambrose had gone on rehearsing all these words with the absorption ofone to whom they were everything, till it occurred to him to wonder thatStephen had listened to so much with patience and assent, and then, looking at the position of head and hands, he perceived that his brotherwas asleep, and came to a sudden halt. This roused Stephen to say, "Eh?What? The Dean, will he do aught for thee?" "Yea, " said Ambrose, recollecting that there was little use in returningto the perplexities which Stephen could not enter into. "He deemed thatin this mood of mine, yea, and as matters now be at the universities, Ihad best not as yet study there for the priesthood. But he said hewould commend me to a friend whose life would better show me how the newgives life to the old than any man he wots of. " "One of thy old doctors in barnacles, I trow, " said Stephen. "Nay, verily. We saw him t'other night perilling his life to stop thepoor crazy prentices, and save the foreigners. Dennet and our uncle sawhim pleading for them with the King. " "What! Sir Thomas More?" "Ay, no other. He needs a clerk for his law matters, and the Dean saidhe would speak of me to him. He is to sup at the Deanery to-morrow, andI am to be in waiting to see him. I shall go with a lighter heart nowthat thou art beyond the clutches of the captain of Newgate. " "Speak no more of that!" said Stephen, with a shudder. "Would that Icould forget it!" In truth Stephen's health had suffered enough to change the bold, high-spirited, active lad, so that he hardly knew himself. He was quiteincapable of work all the next day, and Mistress Headley began to dreadthat he had brought home jail-fever, and insisted on his being inspectedby the barber-surgeon, Todd, who proceeded to bleed the patient, inorder, as he said, to carry off the humours contracted in the prison. He had done the same by Jasper Hope, and by Giles, but he followed thetreatment up with better counsel, namely, that the lads should all besent out of the City to some farm where they might eat curds and whey, until their strength should be restored. Thus they would be out ofreach of the sweating sickness which was already in some of the purlieusof Saint Katharine's Docks, and must be specially dangerous in theirlowered condition. Master Hope came in just after this counsel had been given. He had asister married to the host of a large prosperous inn near Windsor, andhe proposed to send not only Jasper but Stephen thither, feeling howgreat a debt of gratitude he owed to the lad. Remembering well the goodyoung Mistress Streatfield, and knowing that the Antelope was a largeold house of excellent repute, where she often lodged persons of qualityattending on the court or needing country air, Master Headley addedGiles to the party at his own expense, and wished also to send Dennetfor greater security, only neither her grandmother nor Mrs Hope couldleave home. It ended, however, in Perronel Randall being asked to take charge of thewhole party, including Aldonza. That little damsel had been in a mannerconfided to her both by the Dean of Saint Paul's and by TibbleSteelman--and indeed the motherly woman, after nursing and soothing herthrough her first despair at the loss of her father, was already lovingher heartily, and was glad to give her a place in the home which Ambrosewas leaving on being made an attendant on Sir Thomas More. For the interview at the Deanery was satisfactory. The young man, aftera good supper, enlivened by the sweet singing of some chosen pupils ofSaint Paul's school, was called up to where the Dean sat, and with him, the man of the peculiarly sweet countenance, with the noble and deepexpression, yet withal, something both tender and humorous in it. They made him tell his whole life, and asked many questions aboutAbenali, specially about the fragment of Arabic scroll which had beenclutched in his hand even as he lay dying. They much regretted neverhaving known of his existence till too late. "Jewels lie before theunheeding!" said More. Then Ambrose was called on to show a specimen ofhis own penmanship, and to write from Sir Thomas's dictation in Englishand in Latin. The result was that he was engaged to act as one of theclerks Sir Thomas employed in his occupations alike as lawyer, statesman, and scholar. "Methinks I have seen thy face before, " said Sir Thomas, looking keenlyat him. "I have beheld those black eyes, though with a differentfavour?" Ambrose blushed deeply. "Sir, it is but honest to tell you that mymother's brother is jester to my Lord Cardinal. " "Quipsome Hal Merriman! Patch as the King calleth him!" exclaimed SirThomas. "A man I have ever thought wore the motley rather from excess, than infirmity, of wit. " "Nay, sir, so please you, it was his good heart that made him a jester, "said Ambrose, explaining the story of Randall and his Perronel in a fewwords, which touched the friends a good deal, and the Dean rememberedthat she was in charge of the little Moresco girl. He lost nothing bydealing thus openly with his new master, who promised to keep his secretfor him, then gave him handsel of his salary, and bade him collect hispossessions, and come to take up his abode in the house of the Morefamily at Chelsea. He would still often see his brother in the intervals of attending SirThomas to the courts of law, but the chief present care was to get theboys into purer air, both to expedite their recovery and to ensure themagainst being dragged into the penitential company who were to ask fortheir lives on the 22nd of May, consisting of such of the prisoners whocould still stand or go--for jail-fever was making havoc among them, andsome of the better-conditioned had been released by private interest. The remainder, not more than half of the original two hundred andseventy-eight, were stripped to their shirts, had halters hung roundtheir necks, and then, roped together as before, were driven through thestreets to Westminster, where the King sat enthroned. There, lookingutterly miserable, they fell on their knees before him, and received hispardon for their misdemeanours. They returned to their masters, and soended that Ill May day, which was the longer remembered because oneChurchill, a ballad-monger in Saint Paul's Churchyard, indited a poem onit, wherein he swelled the number of prentices to two thousand, and ofthe victims to two hundred. Will Wherry, who escaped from among theprisoners very forlorn, was recommended by Ambrose to the work of acarter at the Dragon, which he much preferred to printing. CHAPTER NINETEEN. AT THE ANTELOPE. "Say, Father Thames, for thou hast seen Full many a sprightly race, Disporting on thy margent green, The paths of pleasure trace. " Gray. Master Hope took all the guests by boat to Windsor, and very soon thelittle party at the Antelope was in a state of such perfect felicity asbecame a proverb with them all their lives afterwards. It was an innwherein to take one's ease, a large hostel full of accommodation for manand horse, with a big tapestried room of entertainment below, wheremeals were taken, with an oriel window with a view of the Round Tower, and above it a still more charming one, known as the Red Rose, becauseone of the Dukes of Somerset had been wont to lodge there. The wallswere tapestried with the story of Saint Genoveva of Brabant, fresh andnew on Mrs Streatfield's marriage; there was a huge bed with greencurtains of that dame's own work, where one might have said:-- "Above, below, the rose of snow, Twined with her blushing foe we spread. " so as to avoid all offence. There was also a cupboard or sideboard ofthe choicer plate belonging to the establishment, and another awmrycontaining appliances for chess and backgammon, likewise two largechairs, several stools, and numerous chests. This apartment was given up to Mistress Randall and the two girls, subject however to the chance of turning out for any very distinguishedguests. The big bed held all three, and the chamber was likewise theirsitting-room, though they took their meals down stairs, and joined theparty in the common room in the evening whenever they were not out ofdoors, unless there were guests whom Perronel did not think desirablecompany for her charges. Stephen and Giles were quartered in a smallroom known as the Feathers, smelling so sweet of lavender and woodruffthat Stephen declared it carried him back to the Forest. MrsStreatfield would have taken Jasper to tend among her children, but theboy could not bear to be without Stephen, and his brother advised her tolet it be so, and not try to make a babe of him again. The guest-chamber below stairs opened at one end into the innyard, aquadrangle surrounded with stables, outhouses, and offices, with agallery running round to give access to the chambers above, where, whenthe Court was at Windsor, two or three great men's trains of retainersmight be crowded together. One door, however, in the side of the guest-chamber had steps down to anorchard, full of apple and pear trees in their glory of pink bud andwhite blossom, borders of roses, gillyflowers, and lilies of the valleyrunning along under the grey walls. There was a broad space of grassnear the houses, whence could be seen the Round Tower of the Castlelooking down in protection, while the background of the view was filledup with a mass of the foliage of Windsor forest, in the spring tints. Stephen never thought of its being beautiful, but he revelled in therefreshment of anything so like home, and he had nothing to wish for buthis brother, and after all he was too contented and happy even to misshim much. Master Streatfield was an elderly man, fat and easy-going, to whomtalking seemed rather a trouble than otherwise, though he was very good-natured. His wife was a merry, lively, active woman, who had beenhanded over to him by her father like a piece of Flanders cambric, butwho never seemed to regret her position, managed men and maids, farm andguests, kept perfect order without seeming to do so, and made greatfriends with Perronel, never guessing that she had been one of thestrolling company, who, nine or ten years before, had been refusedadmission to the Antelope, then crowded with my Lord of Oxford'sfollowers. At first, it was enough for the prentices to spend most of their time inlying about on the grass under the trees. Giles, who was in the bestcondition, exerted himself so far as to try to learn chess from Aldonza, who seemed to be a proficient in the game, and even defeated the good-natured burly parson who came every evening to the Antelope, to imbibeslowly a tankard of ale, and hear any news there stirring. She and Giles were content to spend hours over her instructions in chesson that pleasant balcony in the shade of the house. Though really onlya year older than Dennet Headley, she looked much more, and was so inall her ways. It never occurred to her to run childishly wild withdelight in the garden and orchard as did Dennet, who, with little five-years-old Will Streatfield for her guide and playfellow, rushed abouthither and thither, making acquaintance with hens and chickens, geeseand goslings, seeing cows and goats milked, watching butter churned, bringing all manner of animal and vegetable curiosities to Stephen to benamed and explained, and enjoying his delight in them, a delight whichafter the first few days became more and more vigorous. By and by there was punting and fishing on the river, strawberrygathering in the park, explorations of the forest, expeditions of allsorts and kinds, Jasper being soon likewise well enough to share inthem. The boys and girls were in a kind of fairy land under Perronel'skind wing, the wandering habits of whose girlhood made the freedom ofthe country far more congenial to her than it would have been to anyregular Londoner. Stephen was the great oracle, of course, as to the deer respectfullypeeped at in the park, or the squirrels, the hares and rabbits, in theforest, and the inhabitants of the stream above or below. It was he whosecured and tamed the memorials of their visit--two starlings for Dennetand Aldonza. The birds were to be taught to speak, and to do wonders ofall kinds, but Aldonza's bird was found one morning dead, and Gilesconsoled her by the promise of something much bigger, and that wouldtalk much better. Two days after he brought her a young jackdaw. Aldonza clasped her hands and admired its glossy back and queer blueeye, and was in transports when it uttered something between "Jack" and"good lack. " But Dennet looked in scorn at it, and said, "That's a birdtamed already. He didn't catch it. He only bought it! I would havenone such! An ugsome great thieving bird!" "Nay now, Mistress Dennet, " argued Perronel. "Thou hast thy bird, andAlice has lost hers. It is not meet to grudge it to her. " "I! Grudge it to her!" said Dennet, with a toss of the head. "I grudgeher nought from Giles Headley, so long as I have my Goldspot thatStephen climbed the wall for, his very self. " And Dennet turned majestically away with her bird--Goldspot only in thefuture--perched on her finger; while Perronel shook her head bodingly. But they were all children still, and Aldonza was of a nature that wasslow to take offence, while it was quite true that Dennet had been freefrom jealousy of the jackdaw, and only triumphant in Stephen's prowessand her own starling. The great pleasure of all was a grand stag-hunt, got up for thediversion of the French ambassadors, who had come to treat for theespousals of the infant Princess Mary with the baby "Dolphyne. "Probably these illustrious personages did not get half the pleasure outof it that the Antelope party had. Were they not, by special managementof a yeoman pricker who had recognised in Stephen a kindred spirit, andhad a strong admiration for Mistress Randall, placed where there was thebest possible view of hunters, horses, and hounds, lords and ladies, King and ambassadors, in their gorgeous hunting trim? Did not Stephen, as a true verdurer's son, interpret every note on the horn, and predictjust what was going to happen, to the edification of all his hearers?And when the final rush took place, did not the prentices, with theirgowns rolled up, dart off headlong in pursuit? Dennet entertained somehope that Stephen would again catch some runaway steed, or come to theKing's rescue in some way or other, but such chances did not happenevery day. Nay, Stephen did not even follow up the chase to the death, but left Giles to do that, turning back forsooth because that littleJasper thought fit to get tired and out of breath, and could not findhis way back alone. Dennet was quite angry with Stephen and turned herback on him, when Giles came in all glorious, at having followed upstaunchly all day, having seen the fate of the poor stag, and havingeven beheld the King politely hand the knife to Monsieur de Montmorencyto give the first stroke to the quarry! That was the last exploit. There was to be a great tilting-match inhonour of the betrothal, and Master Alderman Headley wanted hisapprentices back again, and having been satisfied by a laborious letterfrom Dennet, sent per carrier, that they were in good health, despatchedorders by the same means, that they were to hire horses at the Antelopeand return--Jasper coming back at the same time, though his aunt wouldfain have kept him longer. Women on a journey almost always rode double, and the arrangement cameunder debate. Perronel, well accustomed to horse, ass, or foot, undertook to ride behind the child, as she called Jasper, who--as a bornLondoner--knew nothing of horses, though both the other prentices did. Giles, who, in right of his name, kindred, and expectations, always heldhimself a sort of master, declared that, "it was more fitting thatStephen should ride before Mistress Dennet. " And to this none of theparty made any objection, except that Perronel privately observed to himthat she should have thought he would have preferred the company of hisbetrothed. "I shall have quite enough of her by and by, " returned Giles; thenadding, "She is a good little wench, but it is more for her honour thather father's servant should ride before her. " Perronel held her tongue, and they rode merrily back to London, andastonished their several homes by the growth and healthful looks of theyoung people. Even Giles was grown, though he did not like to be toldso, and was cherishing the down on his chin. But the most rapiddevelopment had been in Aldonza, or Alice, as Perronel insisted oncalling her to suit the ears of her neighbours. The girl was justreaching the borderland of maidenhood, which came all the sooner to oneof southern birth and extraction, when the great change took her frombeing her father's childish darling to be Perronel's companion andassistant. She had lain down on that fatal May Eve a child, she rose inthe little house by the Temple Gardens, a maiden, and a very lovely one, with delicate, refined, beautifully cut features of a slightly aquilinecast, a bloom on her soft brunette cheek, splendid dark liquid eyesshaded by long black lashes, under brows as regular and well arched asher Eastern cousins could have made them artificially, magnificent blackhair, that could hardly be contained in the close white cap, and a lithebeautiful figure on which the plainest dress sat with an Eastern grace. Perronel's neighbours did not admire her. They were not sure whethershe were most Saracen, gipsy, or Jew. In fact, she was as like Rachelat the well as her father had been to a patriarch, and her descent wasof the purest Saracen lineage, but a Christian Saracen was an anomalythe London mind could not comprehend, and her presence in the familytended to cast suspicion that Master Randall himself, with his gipsyeyes, and mysterious comings and goings, must have some strangeconnections. For this, however, Perronel cared little. She had madeher own way for many years past, and had won respect and affection bymany good offices to her neighbours, one of whom had taken her laundrywork in her absence. Aldonza was by no means indocile or incapable. She shared in Perronel'swork without reluctance, making good use of her slender, dainty brownfingers, whether in cooking, household work, washing, ironing, plaiting, making or mending the stiff lawn collars and cuffs in which herhostess's business lay. There was nothing that she would not do whenasked, or when she saw that it would save trouble to good motherPerronel, of whom she was very fond, and she seemed serene andcontented, never wanting to go abroad; but she was very silent, andPerronel declared herself never to have seen any living woman soperfectly satisfied to do nothing. The good dame herself wasindustrious, not only from thrift but from taste, and if not busy in hervocation or in household business, was either using her distaff or herneedle, or chatting with her neighbours--often doing both at once; butthough Aldonza could spin, sew, and embroider admirably, and would do soat the least request from her hostess, it was always a sort of task, andshe never seemed so happy as when seated on the floor, with her darkeyes dreamily fixed on the narrow window, where hung her jackdaw's cage, and the beads of her rosary passing through her fingers. At firstMistress Randall thought she was praying, but by and by came to theconviction that most of the time, "the wench was bemused. " There wasnothing to complain of in one so perfectly gentle and obedient, andwithal, modest and devout; but the good woman, after having for sometime given her the benefit of the supposition that she was grieving forher father, began to wonder at such want of activity and animation, andto think that on the whole Jack was the more talkative companion. Aldonza had certainly not taught him the phrases he was so fond ofrepeating. Giles Headley had undertaken his education, and made it areason for stealing down to the Temple many an evening after work wasdone, declaring that birds never learnt so well as after dark. Moreover, he had possessed himself of a chess board, and insisted thatAldonza should carry on her instructions in the game; he brought her allhis Holy Cross Day gain of nuts, and he used all his blandishments topersuade Mrs Randall to come and see the shooting at the popinjay, atMile End. All this made the good woman uneasy. Her husband was away, for thedread of sweating sickness had driven the Court from London, and shecould only take counsel with Tibble Steelman. It was Hallowmas Eve, andGiles had been the bearer of an urgent invitation from Dennet to herfriend Aldonza to come and join the diversions of the evening. Therewas a large number of young folk in the hall--Jasper Hope among them--mostly contemporaries of Dennet, and almost children, all keen upon thesports of the evening, namely, a sort of indoor quintain, where therevolving beam was decorated with a lighted candle at one end, and atthe other an apple to be caught at by the players with their mouths, their hands being tied behind them. Under all the uproarious merriment that each attempt occasioned, Tibblewas about to steal off to his own chamber and his beloved books, when, as he backed out of the group of spectators, he was arrested by MistressRandall, who had made her way into the rear of the party at the sametime. "Can I have a word with you, privily, Master Steelman?" she asked. Unwillingly he muttered, "Yea, so please you;" and they retreated to awindow at the dark end of the hall, where Perronel began-- "The alderman's daughter is contracted to young Giles, her kinsman, isshe not?" "Not as yet in form, but by the will of the parents, " returned Tibble, impatiently, as he thought of the half-hour's reading which he wassacrificing to woman's gossip. "An it be so, " returned Perronel, "I would fain--were I Master Headley--that he spent not so many nights in gazing at mine Alice. " "Forbid him the house, good dame. " "Easier spoken than done, " returned Perronel. "Moreover, 'tis better tolet the matter, such as it is, be open in my sight than to teach them torun after one another stealthily, whereby worse might ensue. " "Have they spoken then to one another?" asked Tibble, beginning to takealarm. "I trow not. I deem they know not yet what draweth them together. " "Pish, they are mere babes!" quoth Tib, hoping he might cast it off hismind. "Look!" said Perronel; and as they stood on the somewhat elevated floorof the bay window, they could look over the heads of the otherspectators to the seats where the young girls sat. Aldonza's beautiful and peculiar contour of head and face rose among theround chubby English faces like a jessamine among daisies, and at thatmoment she was undertaking, with an exquisite smile, the care of thegown that Giles laid at her feet, ere making his venture. "There!" said Perronel. "Mark that look on her face! I never see itsave for that same youngster. The children are simple and guilelessthus far, it may be. I dare be sworn that she is, but they wot notwhere they will be led on. " "You are right, dame; you know best, no doubt, " said Tib, in helplessperplexity. "I wot nothing of such gear. What would you do?" "Have the maid wedded at once, ere any harm come of it, " returnedPerronel promptly. "She will make a good wife--there will be nocomplaining of her tongue, and she is well instructed in all goodhousewifery. " "To whom then would you give her?" asked Tibble. "Ay, that's the question. Comely and good she is, but she isoutlandish, and I fear me 'twould take a handsome portion to get herdark skin and Moorish blood o'erlooked. Nor hath she aught, poor maid, save yonder gold and pearl earrings, and a cross of gold that she saysher father bade her never part with. " "I pledged my word to her father, " said Tibble, "that I would have acare of her. I have not cared to hoard, having none to come after me, but if a matter of twenty or five-and-twenty marks would avail--" "Wherefore not take her yourself?" said Perronel, as he stood aghast. "She is a maid of sweet obedient conditions, trained by a scholar evenlike yourself. She would make your chamber fair and comfortable, andtend you dutifully. " "Whisht, good woman. 'Tis too dark to see, or you could not speak ofwedlock to such as I. Think of the poor maid!" "That is all folly! She would soon know you for a better husband thanone of those young feather-pates, who have no care but of themselves. " "Nay, mistress, " said Tibble, gravely, "your advice will not serve here. To bring that fair young wench hither, to this very court, mind you, with a mate loathly to behold as I be, and with the lad there everbefore her, would be verily to give place to the devil. " "But you are the best sword-cutler in London. You could make a livingwithout service. " "I am bound by too many years of faithful kindness to quit my master ormy home at the Dragon, " said Tibble. "Nay, that will not serve, goodfriend. " "Then what can be done?" asked Perronel, somewhat in despair. "Thereare the young sparks at the Temple. One or two of them are alreadybeginning to cast eyes at her, so that I dare not let her help me carryhome my basket, far less go alone. 'Tis not the wench's fault. Sheshrinks from men's eyes more than any maid I ever saw, but if she bidelong with me, I wot not what may come of it. There be rufflers therewho would not stick to carry her off!" Tibble stood considering, and presently said, "Mayhap the Dean might aidthee in this matter. He is free of hand and kind of heart, and belikehe would dower the maid, and find an honest man to wed her. " Perronel thought well of the suggestion, and decided that after the masson All Soul's Day, and the general visiting of the graves of kindred, she would send Aldonza home with Dennet, whom they were sure to meet inthe Pardon Churchyard, since her mother, as well as Abenali and MartinFulford lay there; and herself endeavour to see Dean Colet, who was sureto be at home, as he was hardly recovered from an attack of theprevalent disorder. Then Tibble escaped, and Perronel drew near to the party round the fire, where the divination of the burning of nuts was going on, but notsuccessfully, since no pair hitherto put in would keep together. However, the next contribution was a snail, which had been captured onthe wall, and was solemnly set to crawl on the hearth by Dennet, "to seewhether it would trace a G or an H. " However, the creature proved sullen or sleepy, and no jogging of hands, no enticing, would induce it to crawl an inch, and the alderman, takinghis daughter on his knee, declared that it was a wise beast, who knewher hap was fixed. Moreover, it was time for the rere supper, for theserving-men with the lanterns would be coming for the young folk. London entertainments for women or young people had to finish very earlyunless they had a strong escort to go home with, for the streets werefar from safe after dark. Giles's great desire to convoy her home, added to Perronel's determination, and on All Souls' Day, while knellswere ringing from every church in London, she roused Aldonza from herweeping devotions at her father's grave, and led her to Dennet, who hadjust finished her round of prayers at the grave of the mother she hadnever known, under the protection of her nurse, and two or three of theservants. The child, who had thought little of her mother, while hergrandmother was alert, and supplied the tenderness and care she needed, was beginning to yearn after counsel and sympathy, and to wonder, as shetold her beads, what might have been, had that mother lived. She tookAldonza's hand, and the two girls threaded their way out of the crowdedchurchyard together, while Perronel betook herself to the Deanery ofSaint Paul's. Good Colet was always accessible to the meanest, but he had been veryill, and the porter had some doubts about troubling him respecting thesubstantial young matron whose trim cap and bodice, and full petticoats, showed no tokens of distress. However, when she begged him to take inher message, that she prayed the Dean to listen to her touching thechild of the old man who was slain on May Eve, he consented; and she wasat once admitted to an inner chamber, where Colet, wrapped in a gownlined with lambskin, sat by the fire, looking so wan and feeble that itwent to the good woman's heart, and she began by an apology fortroubling him. "Heed not that, good dame, " said the Dean, courteously, "but sit theedown and let me hear of the poor child. " "Ah, reverend sir, would that she were still a child--" and Perronelproceeded to tell her difficulties, adding, that if the Dean could ofhis goodness promise one of the dowries which were yearly given to poormaidens of good character, she would inquire among her gossips for someone to marry the girl. She secretly hoped he would take the hint andimmediately portion Aldonza himself perhaps likewise find the husband. And she was disappointed that he only promised to consider the matterand let her hear from him. She went back and told Tibble that hisdevice was nought, an old scholar with one foot in the grave knew lessof women than even he did! However it was only four days later, that, as Mrs Randall was hangingout her collars to dry, there came up to her from the Temple stairs afigure whom for a moment she hardly knew, so different was the long, black garb, and short gown of the lawyer's clerk from the shabby oldgreen suit that all her endeavours had not been able to save from many astain of printer's ink. It was only as he exclaimed, "Good aunt, I amfain to see thee here!" that she answered, "What, thou, Ambrose! What afine fellow thou art! Truly I knew not thou wast of such good mien!Thou thrivest at Chelsea!" "Who would not thrive there?" said Ambrose. "Nay, aunt, tarry a little, I have a message for thee that I would fain give before we go in toAldonza. " "From his reverence the Dean? Hath he bethought himself of her?" "Ay, that hath he done, " said Ambrose. "He is not the man to halt whengood may be done. What doth he do, since it seems thou hadst speech ofhim, but send for Sir Thomas More, then sitting at Westminster, to comeand see him as soon as the Court brake up, and I attended my master. They held council together, and by and by they sent for me to ask me ofwhat conditions and breeding the maid was, and what I knew of herfather?" "Will they wed her to thee? That were rarely good, so they gave theesome good office!" cried his aunt. "Nay, nay, " said Ambrose. "I have much to learn and understand ere Ithink of a wife--if ever. Nay! But when they had heard all I couldtell them, they looked at one another, and the Dean said, `The maid isno doubt of high blood in her own land--scarce a mate for a Londonbutcher or currier. '" "`It were matching an Arab mare with a costard monger's colt, ' said mymaster, `or Angelica with Ralph Roister-Doister. '" "I'd like to know what were better for the poor outlandish maid than togive her to some honest man, " put in Perronel. "The end of it was, " said Ambrose, "that Sir Thomas said he was to be atthe palace the next day, and he would strive to move the Queen to takeher countrywoman into her service. Yea, and so he did, but though QueenKatharine was moved by hearing of a fatherless maid of Spain, and atfirst spake of taking her to wait on herself, yet when she heard themaid's name, and that she was of Moorish blood, she would none of her. She said that heresy lurked in them all, and though Sir Thomas offeredthat the Dean or the Queen's own chaplain should question her on thefaith, it was all lost labour. I heard him tell the Dean as much, andthus it is that they bade me come for thee, and for the maid, take boat, and bring you down to Chelsea, where Sir Thomas will let her be bred upto wait on his little daughters till he can see what best may be donefor her. I trow his spirit was moved by the Queen's hardness! I heardthe Dean mutter, `_Et venient ab Oriente et Occidente_. '" Perronel looked alarmed. "The Queen deemed her heretic in grain! Ah!She is a good wench, and of kind conditions. I would have no ill befallher, but I am glad to be rid of her. Sir Thomas--he is a wise man, ay, and a married man, with maidens of his own, and he may have more wit inthe business than the rest of his kind. Be the matter instant?" "Methinks Sir Thomas would have it so, since this being a holy day, thecourts be not sitting, and he is himself at home, so that he can presentthe maid to his lady. And that makes no small odds. " "Yea, but what the lady is makes the greater odds to the maid, I trow, "said Perronel anxiously. "Fear not on that score. Dame Alice More is of kindly conditions, andwill be good to any whom her lord commends to her; and as to the youngladies, never saw I any so sweet or so wise as the two elder ones, specially Mistress Margaret. " "Well-a-day! What must be must!" philosophically observed Perronel. "Now I have my wish, I could mourn over it. I am loth to part with thewench; and my man, when he comes home, will make an outcry for hispretty Ally; but 'tis best so. Come, Alice, girl, bestir thyself. Here's preferment for thee. " Aldonza raised her great soft eyes in slow wonder, and when she hadheard what was to befall her, declared that she wanted no advancement, and wished only to remain with mother Perronel. Nay, she clung to thekind woman, beseeching that she might not be sent away from the onlymotherly tenderness she had ever known, and declaring that she wouldwork all day and all night rather than leave her; but the morereluctance she showed, the more determined was Perronel, and she couldnot but submit to her fate, only adding one more entreaty that she mighttake her jackdaw, which was now a spruce grey-headed bird. Perronelsaid it would be presumption in a waiting-woman, but Ambrose declaredthat at Chelsea there were all manner of beasts and birds, beloved bythe children and by their father himself, and that he believed the dawwould be welcome. At any rate, if the lady of the house objected to it, it could return with Mistress Randall. Perronel hurried the few preparations, being afraid that Giles mighttake advantage of the holiday to appear on the scene, and presentlyAldonza was seated in the boat, making no more lamentations after shefound that her fate was inevitable, but sitting silent, with downcasthead, now and then brushing away a stray tear as it stole down under herlong eyelashes. Meantime Ambrose, hoping to raise her spirits, talked to his aunt of thefriendly ease and kindliness of the new home, where he was evidently asthoroughly happy as it was in his nature to be. He was much, in theposition of a barrister's clerk, superior to that of the mere servants, but inferior to the young gentlemen of larger means, though not perhapsof better birth, who had studied law regularly, and aspired to officesor to legal practice. But though Ambrose was ranked with the three or four other clerks, hisfunctions had more relation to Sir Thomas's literary and diplomaticavocations than his legal ones. From Lucas Hansen he had learnt Dutchand French, and he was thus available for copying and translatingforeign correspondence. His knowledge of Latin and smattering of Greekenabled him to be employed in copying into a book some of theinestimable letters of Erasmus which arrived from time to time, and SirThomas promoted his desire to improve himself, and had requested MrClements, the tutor of the children of the house, to give him weeklylessons in Latin and Greek. Sir Thomas had himself pointed out to him books calculated to settle hismind on the truth and catholicity of the Church, and had warned himagainst meddling with the fiery controversial tracts which, smuggled inoften through Lucas's means, had set his mind in commotion. And for thepresent at least beneath the shadow of the great man's intelligentdevotion, Ambrose's restless spirit was tranquil. Of course, he did not explain his state of mind to his aunt, but shegathered enough to be well content, and tried to encourage Aldonza, whenat length they landed near Chelsea Church, and Ambrose led the way to anextensive pleasaunce or park, full of elms and oaks, whose yellow leaveswere floating like golden rain in the sunshine. Presently children's voices guided them to a large chestnut tree. "Loyou now, I hear Mistress Meg's voice, and where she is, his honour willever be, " said Ambrose. And sure enough, among a group of five girls and one boy, all betweenfourteen and nine years old, was the great lawyer, knocking down thechestnuts with a long pole, while the young ones flew about picking upthe burrs from the grass, exclaiming joyously when they found a fullone. Ambrose explained that of the young ladies, one was Mistress Middleton, Lady More's daughter by a former marriage, another a kinswoman. Perronel was for passing by unnoticed; but Ambrose knew better; and SirThomas, leaning on the pole, called out, "Ha, my Birkenholt, a foresterborn, knowst thou any mode of bringing down yonder chestnuts, whichbeing the least within reach, seem in course the meetest of all. " "I would I were my brother, your honour, " said Ambrose, "then would Iclimb the tree. " "Thou shouldst bring him one of these days, " said Sir Thomas. "But thouhast instead brought us a fair maid. See, Meg, yonder is the poor younggirl who lost her father on Ill May day. Lead her on and make her goodcheer, while I speak to this good dame. " Margaret More, a slender, dark-eyed girl of thirteen, went forward witha peculiar gentle grace to the stranger, saying, "Welcome, sweet maid!I hope we shall make thee happy, " and seeing the mournful countenance, she not only took Aldonza's hand, but kissed her cheek. Sir Thomas had exchanged a word or two with Perronel, when there was acry from the younger children, who had detected the wicker cage whichPerronel was trying to keep in the background. "A daw! a daw!" was the cry. "Is't for us?" "Oh, mistress, " faltered Aldonza, "'tis mine--there was one who tamed itfor me, and I promised ever to keep it, but if the good knight and ladyforbid it, we will send it back. " "Nay now, John, Cicely, " was Margaret saying, "'tis her own bird! Wotye not our father will let us take nought of them that come to him?Yea, Al-don-za--is not that thy name?--I am sure my father will havethee keep it. " She led up Aldonza, making the request for her. Sir Thomas smiled. "Keep thy bird? Nay, that thou shalt. Look at him, Meg, is he not infit livery for a lawyer's house? Mark his trim legs, sable doublet andhose, and grey hood--and see, he hath the very eye of a councillorseeking for suits, as he looketh at the chestnuts John holdeth to him. I warrant he hath a tongue likewise. Canst plead for thy dinner, bird?" "I love Giles!" uttered the black beak, to the confusion and indignationof Perronel. The perverse bird had heard Giles often dictate this avowal, but hadentirely refused to repeat it, till, stimulated by the new surroundings, it had for the first time uttered it. "Ah! thou foolish daw! Crow that thou art! Had I known thou hadst sucha word in thy beak, I'd have wrung thy neck sooner than have broughtthee, " muttered Perronel. "I had best take thee home without more ado. " It was too late, however, the children were delighted, and perfectlywilling that Aldonza should own the bird, so they might hear it speak, and thus the introduction was over. Aldonza and her daw were conveyedto Dame Alice More, a stout, good-tempered woman, who had too manydependents about her house to concern herself greatly about theintroduction of another. And thus Aldonza was installed in the long, low, two-storied red housewhich was to be her place of home-like service. CHAPTER TWENTY. CLOTH OF GOLD ON THE SEAMY SIDE. "Then you lost The view of earthly glory men might say Till this time pomp was single; but now married To one above itself. " Shakespeare. If Giles Headley murmured at Aldonza's removal, it was only to Perronel, and that discreet woman kept it to herself. In the summer of 1519 he was out of his apprenticeship, and thoughDennet was only fifteen, it was not uncommon for brides to be evenyounger. However, the autumn of that year was signalised by a freshoutbreak of the sweating sickness, apparently a sort of influenza, andno festivities could be thought of. The King and Queen kept at a safedistance from London, and escaped, so did the inmates of the pleasanthouse at Chelsea; but the Cardinal, who, as Lord Chancellor, could notentirely absent himself from Westminster, was four times attacked by it, and Dean Colet, a far less robust man, had it three times, and sank atlast under it. Sir Thomas More went to see his beloved old friend, andknowing Ambrose's devotion, let the young man be his attendant. Norcould those who saw the good man ever forget his peaceful farewells, grieving only for the old mother who had lived with him in the Deanery, and in the ninetieth year of her age, thus was bereaved of the last ofher twenty-one children. For himself, he was thankful to be taken awayfrom the evil times he already beheld threatening his beloved SaintPaul's, as well as the entire Church both in England and abroad; lookingback with a sad, sweet smile to the happy Oxford days, when he, withMore and Erasmus: "Strained the watchful eye If chance the golden hours were nigh By youthful hope seen gleaming round her walls. " "But, " said he, as he laid his hand in blessing for the last time onAmbrose's head, "let men say what they will, do thou cling fast to theChurch, nor let thyself be swept away. There are sure promises to her, and grace is with her to purify herself, even though it be obscured fora time. Be not of little faith, but believe that Christ is with us inthe ship, though He seem to be asleep. " He spoke as much to his friend as to the youth, and there can be nodoubt that this consideration was the restraining force with many whohave been stigmatised as half-hearted Reformers, because though theyloved truth, they feared to lose unity. He was a great loss at that especial time, as a restraining power, trusted by the innovators, and a personal friend both of King andCardinal, and his preaching and catechising were sorely missed at SaintPaul's. Tibble Steelman, though thinking he did not go far enough, deplored himdeeply; but Tibble himself was laid by for many days. The epidemic wentthrough the Dragon court, though some had it lightly, and only two youngchildren actually died of it. It laid a heavy hand on Tibble, and ashis distaste for women rendered his den almost inaccessible to BetSmallbones, who looked after most of the patients, Stephen Birkenholt, whose nursing capacities had been developed in Newgate, spent his sparehours in attending him, sat with him in the evenings, slept on a palletby his side, carried him his meals and often administered them, andfinally pulled him through the illness and its effects, which left himmuch broken and never likely to be the same man again. Old Mistress Headley, who was already failing, did not have the actualdisease severely, but she never again left her bed, and died just afterChristmas, sinking slowly away with little pain, and her memory havingfailed from the first. Household affairs had thus slipped so gradually into Dennet's hands thatno change of government was perceptible, except that the keys hung atthe maiden's girdle. She had grown out of the child during this winterof trouble, and was here, there, and everywhere, the busy nurse andhousewife, seldom pausing to laugh or play except with her father, andnow and then to chat with her old friend and playfellow, Kit Smallbones. Her childish freedom of manner had given way to grave discretion, notto say primness, in her behaviour to her father's guests, and even theapprentices. It was, of course, the unconscious reaction of themaidenly spirit, aware that she had nothing but her own modesty toprotect her. She was on a small scale, with no pretensions to beauty, but with a fresh, honest, sensible young face, a clear skin, and darkeyes that could be very merry when she would let them, and her whole airand dress were trimness itself, with an inclination to the choicestmaterials permitted to an alderman's daughter. Things were going on so smoothly that the alderman was taken by surprisewhen all the good wives around began to press on him that it wasincumbent on him to lose no time in marrying his daughter to her cousin, if not before Lent, yet certainly in the Easter holidays. Dennet looked very grave thereon. Was it not over soon after the lossof the good grandmother? And when her father said, as the gossips hadtold him, that she and Giles need only walk quietly down some morning toSaint Faith's and plight their troth, she broke out into her girlishwilful manner, "Would she be married at all without a merry wedding?No, indeed! She would not have the thing done in a corner! What wasthe use of her being wedded, and having to consort with the tedious oldwives instead of the merry wenches? Could she not guide the house, andrule the maids, and get in the stores, and hinder waste, and make thepasties, and brew the possets? Had her father found the crust hard, ormissed his roasted crab, or had any one blamed her for want ofdiscretion? Nay, as to that, she was like to be more discreet as shewas, with only her good old father to please, than with a husband toplague her. " On the other hand, Giles's demeanour was rather that of one prepared forthe inevitable than that of an eager bridegroom; and when orders beganto pour in for accoutrements of unrivalled magnificence for the King andthe gentlemen who were to accompany him to Ardres, there to meet theyoung King of France just after Whitsuntide, Dennet was the first toassure her father that there would be no time to think of weddings tillall this was over, especially as some of the establishment would have tobe in attendance to repair casualties at the jousts. At this juncture there arrived on business Master Tiptoff, husband toGiles's sister, bringing greetings from Mrs Headley at Salisbury, andinquiries whether the wedding was to take place at Whitsuntide, in whichcase she would hasten to be present, and to take charge of thehousehold, for which her dear daughter was far too young. MasterTiptoff showed a suspicious alacrity in undertaking the forwarding ofhis mother-in-law and her stuff. The faces of Master Headley and Tib Steelman were a sight, both havingseen only too much of what the house wifery at Salisbury had been. Thealderman decided on the spot that there could be no marriage till afterthe journey to France, since Giles was certainly to go upon it; and lestMrs Headley should be starting on her journey, he said he shoulddespatch a special messenger to stay her. Giles, who had of course beenlonging for the splendid pageant, cheered up into great amiability, andvolunteered to write to his mother, that she had best not think ofcoming, till he sent word to her that matters were forward. Even thus, Master Headley was somewhat insecure. He thought the dame quite capableof coming and taking possession of his house in his absence, andtherefore resolved upon staying at home to garrison it; but there wasthen the further difficulty that Tibble was in no condition to take hisplace on the journey. If the rheumatism seized his right arm, as it haddone in the winter, he would be unable to drive a rivet, and there wouldbe every danger of it, high summer though it were; for though the partywould carry their own tent and bedding, the knights and gentlemen wouldbe certain to take all the best places, and they might be driven into adamp corner. Indeed it was not impossible that their tent itself mightbe seized, for many a noble or his attendants might think that beggarlyartisans had no right to comforts which he had been too improvident toafford, especially if the alderman himself were absent. Not only did Master Headley really love his trusty foreman too well toexpose him to such chances, but Tibble knew too well that there werebrutal young men to whom his contorted visage would be an incitement tocontempt and outrage, and that if racked with rheumatism, he would onlybe an incumbrance. There was nothing for it but to put Kit Smallbonesat the head of the party. His imposing presence would keep off wantoninsults, but on the other hand, he had not the moral weight of authoritypossessed by Tibble, and though far from being a drunkard, he was notproof against a carouse, especially when out of reach of his Bet and ofhis master, and he was not by any means Tib's equal in fine and delicateworkmanship. But on the other hand, Tib pronounced that StephenBirkenholt was already well skilled in chasing metal and the difficultart of restoring inlaid work, and he showed some black and silverarmour, that was in hand for the King, which fully bore out his words. "And thou thinkst Kit can rule the lads!" said the alderman, scarcewillingly. "One of them at least can rule himself, " said Tibble. "They have bothbeen far more discreet since the fright they got on Ill May day; and, asfor Stephen, he hath seemed to me to have no eyes nor thought save forhis work of late. " "I have marked him, " said the master, "and have marvelled what ailed thelad. His merry temper hath left him. I never hear him singing to keeptime with his hammer, nor keeping the court in a roar with his gibes. Itrust he is not running after the new doctrine of the hawkers andpedlars. His brother was inclined that way. " "There be worse folk than they, your worship, " protested Tib, but he didnot pursue their defence, only adding, "but 'tis not that which ailsyoung Stephen. I would it were!" he sighed to himself, inaudibly. "Well, " said the good-natured alderman, "it may be he misseth hisbrother. The boys will care for this raree-show more than thou or I, Tib! We've seen enough of them in our day, though verily they say thisis to surpass all that ever were beheld!" The question of who was to go had not been hitherto decided, and Gilesand Stephen were both so excited at being chosen that all low spiritsand moodiness were dispelled, and the work which went on almost allnight was merrily got through. The Dragon court was in a perpetualcommotion with knights, squires, and grooms, coming in with orders fornew armour, or for old to be furbished, and the tent-makers, lorimers, mercers, and tailors had their hands equally full. These lengtheningmornings heard the hammer ringing at sunrise, and in the final rush, Smallbones never went to bed at all. He said he should make it up inthe waggon on the way to Dover. Some hinted that he preferred the clangof his hammer to the good advice his Bet lavished on him at everyleisure moment to forewarn him against French wine-pots. The alderman might be content with the party he sent forth, for Kit hadhardly his equal in size, strength, and good humour. Giles haddeveloped into a tall, comely young man, who had got rid of his countryslouch, and whose tall figure, light locks, and ruddy cheeks looked wellin the new suit which gratified his love of finery, sober-hued as itneeds must be. Stephen was still bound to the old prentice garb, thoughit could not conceal his good mien, the bright sparkling dark eyes, crisp black hair, healthy brown skin, and lithe active figure. Gileshad a stout roadster to ride on, the others were to travel in their ownwaggon, furnished with four powerful horses, which, it possible, theywere to take to Calais, so as to be independent of hiring. Theirneedments, clothes, and tools, were packed in the waggon, with store oflances, and other appliances of the tourney. A carter and Will Wherry, who was selected as being supposed to be conversant with foreigntongues, were to attend on them; Smallbones, as senior journeyman, hadthe control of the party, and Giles had sufficiently learntsubordination not to be likely to give himself dangerous airs ofmastership. Dennet was astir early to see them off, and she had a little gift foreach. She began with her oldest friend, "See here, Kit, " she said, "here's a wallet to hold thy nails and rivets. What wilt thou say to mefor such a piece of stitchery?" "Say, pretty mistress? Why this!" quoth the giant, and he picked her upby the slim waist in his great hands, and kissed her on the forehead. He had done the like many a time nine or ten years ago, and thoughMaster Headley laughed, Dennet was not one bit embarrassed, and turnedto the next traveller. "Thou art no more a prentice, Giles, and canstwear this in thy bonnet, " she said, holding out to him a short silverchain and medal of Saint George and the Dragon. "Thanks, gentle maid, " said Giles, taking the handsome gift a littlesheepishly. "My bonnet will make a fair show, " and he bent down as shestood on the step, and saluted her lips, then began eagerly fasteningthe chain round his cap, as one delighted with the ornament. Stephen was some distance off. He had turned aside when she spoke toGiles, and was asking of Tibble last instructions about the restorationof enamel, when he felt a touch on his arm, and saw Dennet standing byhim. She looked up in his face, and held up a crimson silken purse, with S B embroidered on it within a wreath of oak and holly leaves. With the air that ever showed his gentle blood, Stephen put a knee tothe ground, and kissed the fingers that held it to him, whereuponDennet, a sudden burning blush overspreading her face under her littlepointed hood, turned suddenly round and ran into the house. She was outagain on the steps when the waggon finally got under weigh, and as hereyes met Stephen's, he doffed his flat cap with one hand, and laid theother on his heart, so that she knew where her purse had taken up itsabode. Of the Field of the Cloth of Gold not much need be said. To the end ofthe lives of the spectators, it was a tale of wonder. Indeed withoutthat, the very sight of the pavilions was a marvel in itself, the bluedome of Francis spangled in imitation of the sky, with sun, moon, andstars; and the feudal castle of Henry, a three months' work, eachsurrounded with tents of every colour and pattern which fancy coulddevise, with the owners banners or pennons floating from the summits, and every creature, man, and horse, within the enchanted precincts, equally gorgeous. It was the brightest and the last full display ofmagnificent pseudo chivalry, and to Stephen's dazzled eye, seeing itbeneath the slant rays of the setting sun of June, it was a fairy talecome to life. Hal Randall, who was in attendance on the Cardinal, declared that it was a mere surfeit of jewels and gold and silver, andthat a frieze jerkin or leathern coat was an absolute refreshment to thesight. He therefore spent all the time he was off duty in the forge farin the rear, where Smallbones and his party had very little but hardwork, mending, whetting, furbishing, and even changing devices. Thosesix days of tilting when "every man that stood, showed like a mine, "kept the armourers in full occupation night and day, and only now andthen could the youths try to make their way to some spot whence theycould see the tournament. Smallbones was more excited by the report of fountains of good red andwhite wines of all sorts, flowing perpetually in the court of KingHenry's splendid mock castle; but fortunately one gulp was enough for anEnglish palate nurtured on ale and mead, and he was disgusted at theheaps of country folk, men-at-arms, beggars and vagabonds of all kinds, who swilled the liquor continually, and, in loathsome contrast to theexternal splendours, lay wallowing on the ground so thickly that it wassometimes hardly possible to move without treading on them. "I stumbled over a dozen, " said the jester, as he strolled into thelittle staked inclosure that the Dragon party had arranged round theirtent for the prosecution of their labours, which were too important toall the champions not to be respected. "Lance and sword have not laidso many low in the lists as have the doughty Baron Burgundy and theheady knight Messire Sherris Sack. " "Villain Verjuice and Varlet Vinegar is what Kit there calls them, " saidStephen, looking up from the work he was carrying on over a pan ofglowing charcoal. "Yea, " said Smallbones, intermitting his noisy operations, "and the moreof swine be they that gorge themselves on it. I told Jack and Hob that'twould be shame for English folk to drown themselves like French frogsor Flemish hogs. " "Hogs!" returned Randall. "A decent Hampshire hog would scorn to belodged as many a knight and squire and lady too is now, pigging it instyes and hovels and haylofts by night, and pranking it by day with thebest!" "Sooth enough, " said Smallbones. "Yea, we have had two knights andtheir squires beseeching us for leave to sleep under our waggon! Not anangel had they got among the four of them either, having all theiryear's income on their backs, and more too. I trow they and their heirswill have good cause to remember this same Field of Gold. " "And what be'st thou doing, nevvy?" asked the jester. "Thy trade seemsas brisk as though red blood were flowing instead of red wine. " "I am doing my part towards making the King into Hercules, " saidStephen, "though verily the tailor hath more part therein than we have;but he must needs have a breastplate of scales of gold, and that by to-morrow's morn. As Ambrose would say, `if he will be a pagan god, heshould have what's-his-name, the smith of the gods, to work for him. '" "I heard of that freak, " said the jester. "There be a dozen tailors andall the Queen's tirewomen frizzling up a good piece of cloth of gold forthe lion's mane, covering a club with green damask with pricks, cuttingout green velvet and gummed silk for his garland! In sooth, thesegraces have left me so far behind in foolery that I have not a jest leftin my pouch! So here I be, while my Lord Cardinal is shut up withMadame d'Angouleme in the castle--the real old castle, mind you--doingthe work, leaving the kings and queens to do their own fooling. " "Have you spoken with the French King, Hal?" asked Smallbones, who hadbecome a great crony of his, since the anxieties of May Eve. "So far as I may when I have no French, and he no English! He is acomely fellow, with a blithe tongue and a merry eye, I warrant you achanticleer who will lose nought for lack of crowing. He'll crow louderthan ever now he hath given our Harry a fall. " "No! hath he?" and Giles, Stephen, and Smallbones, all suspended theirwork to listen in concern. "Ay marry, hath he! The two took it into their royal noddles to try afall, and wrestled together on the grass, when by some ill hap, thissame Francis tripped up our Harry, so that he was on the sward for amoment. He was up again forthwith, and in full heart for another round, when all the Frenchmen burst in gabbling; and, though their King waswilling to play the match out fairly, they wouldn't let him, and my LordCardinal said something about making ill blood, whereat our King laughedand was content to leave it. As I told him, we have given the Frenchfalls enough to let them make much of this one. " "I hope he will yet give the mounseer a good shaking, " mutteredSmallbones. "How now, Will! Who's that at the door? We are on his grace's work andcan touch none other man's were it the King of France himself, or hisConstable, who is finer still. " By way of expressing, "No admittance except on business, " Smallboneskept Will Wherry in charge of the door of his little territory, whichhaving a mud wall on two sides, and a broad brook with quaking banks ona third, had been easily fenced on the fourth, so as to protect tent, waggon, horses, and work from the incursions of idlers. Will howeveranswered, "The gentleman saith he hath kindred here. " "Ay!" and there pushed in, past the lad a tall, lean form, with a gaybut soiled short cloak over one shoulder, a suit of worn buff, a capgarnished with a dilapidated black and yellow feather, and a pair ofgilt spurs. "If this be as they told me, where Armourer Headley's folklodge--I have here a sort of a cousin. Yea, yonder's the brave lad whohad no qualms at the flash of a good Toledo in a knight's fist. Hownow, my nevvy! Is not my daughter's nevvy--mine?" "Save your knighthood!" said Smallbones. "Who would have looked to seeyou here, Sir John? Methought you were in the Emperor's service!" "A stout man-at-arms is of all services, " returned Fulford. "I'm herewith half Flanders to see this mighty show, and pick up a few more lustyBadgers at this encounter of old comrades. Is old Headley here?" "Nay, he is safe at home, where I would I were, " sighed Kit. "And you are my young master his nephew, who knew where to purvey me ofgood steel, " added Fulford, shaking Giles's hand. "You are fain, doubtless, you youngsters, to be forth without the old man. Ha! andyou've no lack of merry company. " Harry Randall's first impulse had been to look to the right and left forthe means of avoiding this encounter, but there was no escape; and hewas moreover in most fantastic motley, arrayed in one of the many suitsprovided for the occasion. It was in imitation of a parrot, brilliantgrass-green velvet, touched here and there with scarlet, yellow, orblue. He had been only half disguised on the occasion of Fulford'svisit to his wife, and he perceived the start of recognition in the eyesof the Condottiere, so that he knew it would be vain to try to concealhis identity. "You sought Stephen Birkenholt, " he said. "And you've lit on somethingnearer, if so be you'll acknowledge the paraquito that your Perronelhath mated with. " The Condottiere burst into a roar of laughter so violent that he had tolean against the mud wall, and hold his sides. "Ha, ha! that I shouldbe father-in-law to a fool!" and then he set off again. "That thesober, dainty little wench should have wedded a fool! Ha! ha! ha!" "Sir, " cried Stephen hotly, "I would have you to know that mine unclehere, Master Harry Randall, is a yeoman of good birth, and that heundertook his present part to support your own father and child!Methinks you are the last who should jeer at and insult him!" "Stephen is right, " said Giles. "This is my kinsman's tent, and no manshall say a word against Master Harry Randall therein. " "Well crowed, my young London gamebirds, " returned Fulford, coolly. "Imeant no disrespect to the gentleman in green. Nay, I am mightilybeholden to him for acting his part out and taking on himself that wouldscarce befit a gentleman of a company--_impedimenta_, as we used to sayin the grammar school. How does the old man?--I must find some token tosend him. " "He is beyond the reach of all tokens from you save prayers and masses, "returned Randall, gravely. "Ay? You say not so? Old gaffer dead?" And when the soldier was toldhow the feeble thread of life had been snapped by the shock of joy onhis coming, a fit of compunction and sorrow seized him. He covered hisface with his hands and wept with a loudness of grief that surprised andtouched his hearers; and presently began to bemoan himself that he hadhardly a mark in his purse to pay for a mass; but therewith he proceededto erect before him the cross hilt of poor Abenali's sword, and to vowthereupon that the first spoil and the first ransom, that it shouldplease the saints to send him, should be entirely spent in masses forthe soul of Martin Fulford. This tribute apparently stilled both griefand remorse, for looking up at the grotesque figure of Randall, he said, "Methought they told me, master son, that you were in the right quartersfor beads and masses and all that gear--a varlet of Master Butcher-Cardinal's, or the like-but mayhap 'twas part of your fooling. " "Not so, " replied Randall. "'Tis to the Cardinal that I belong, "holding out his sleeve, where the scarlet hat was neatly worked, "andI'll brook no word against his honour. " "Ho! ho! Maybe you looked to have the hat on your own head, " quothFulford, waxing familiar, "if your master comes to be Pope after his ownreckoning. Why, I've known a Cardinal get the scarlet because an apehad danced on the roof with him in his arms!" "You forget! I'm a wedded man, " said Randall, who certainly, in privatelife, had much less of the buffoon about him than his father-in-law. "_Impedimentum_ again, " whistled the knight. "Put a halter round herneck, and sell her for a pot of beer. " "I'd rather put a halter round my own neck for good and all, " said Hal, his face reddening; but among other accomplishments of his position, hehad learnt to keep his temper, however indignant he felt. "Well--she's a knight's daughter, and preferments will be plenty. Thou'lt make me captain of the Pope's guard, fair son--there's no post Ishould like better. Or I might put up with an Italian earldom or thelike. Honour would befit me quite as well as that old fellow, ProsperColonna; and the Badgers would well become the Pope's scarlet and yellowliveries. " The Badgers, it appeared, were in camp not far from Gravelines, whencethe Emperor was watching the conference between his uncle-in-law and hischief enemy; and thence Fulford, who had a good many Frenchacquaintance, having once served under Francis the First, had come overto see the sport. Moreover, he contrived to attach himself to thearmourer's party, in a manner that either Alderman Headley himself, orTibble Steelman, would effectually have prevented; but which KitSmallbones had not sufficient moral weight to hinder, even if he had hada greater dislike to being treated as a boon companion by a knight whohad seen the world, could appreciate good ale, and tell all manner oftales of his experiences. So the odd sort of kindred that the captain chose to claim with StephenBirkenholt was allowed, and in right of it, he was permitted to sleep inthe waggon; and thereupon his big raw-boned charger was found sharingthe fodder of the plump broad-backed cart horses, while he himself, whenever sport was not going forward for him, or work for the armourers, sat discussing with Kit the merits or demerits of the liquors of allnations, either in their own yard or in some of the numerous drinkingbooths that had sprung up around. To no one was this arrangement so distasteful as to Quipsome Hal, whofelt himself in some sort the occasion of the intrusion, and yet wasquite unable to prevent it, while everything he said was treated as ajoke by his unwelcome father-in-law. It was a coarse time, and Wolsey'swas not a refined or spiritual establishment, but it was decorous, andRandall had such an affection and respect for the innocence of hissister's young son, that he could not bear to have him exposed to thecompany of one habituated to the licentiousness of the mercenarysoldier. At first the jester hoped to remove the lads from the danger, for the brief remainder of their stay, by making double exertion toobtain places for them at any diversion which might be going on whentheir day's work was ended, and of these, of course, there was a widechoice, subordinate to the magnificent masquing of kings and queens. Onthe last midsummer evening, while their majesties were taking leave ofone another, a company of strolling players were exhibiting in anextemporary theatre, and here Hal incited both the youths to obtainseats. The drama was on one of the ordinary and frequent topics ofthat, as of all other times, and the dumb show and gestures were farmore effective than the words, so that even those who did not understandthe language of the comedians, who seemed to be Italians, could enterinto it, especially as it was interspersed with very expressive songs. An old baron insists on betrothing his daughter and heiress to herkinsman freshly knighted. She is reluctant, weeps, and is threatened, singing afterwards her despair, (of course she really was a black-eyedboy). That song was followed by a still more despairing one from thebaron's squire, and a tender interview between them followed. Then came discovery, the baron descending as a thunderbolt, thebanishment of the squire, the lady driven at last to wed the youngknight, her weeping and bewailing herself under his ill-treatment, whichextended to pulling her about by the hair, the return of the lover, notified by a song behind the scenes, a dangerously affectionatemeeting, interrupted by the husband, a fierce clashing of swords, mutualslaughter by the two gentlemen, and the lady dying of grief on the topof her lover. Such was the argument of this tragedy, which Giles Headley pronounced tobe very dreary pastime, indeed he was amusing himself with an exchangeof comfits with a youth who sat next him all the time--for he had foundStephen utterly deaf to aught but the tragedy, following every gesturewith eager eyes, lips quivering, and eyes filling at the strains of thelove songs, though they were in their native Italian, of which heunderstood not a word. He rose up with a heavy groan when all was over, as if not yet disenchanted, and hardly answered when his uncle spoke tohim afterwards. It was to ask whether the Dragon party were to returnat once to London, or to accompany the Court to Gravelines, where, ithad just been announced, the King intended to pay a visit to his nephew, the Emperor. Neither Stephen nor Giles knew, but when they reached their own quartersthey found that Smallbones had received an intimation that there mightbe jousts, and that the offices of the armourers would be required. Hewas very busy packing up his tools, but loudly hilarious, and Sir JohnFulford, with a flask of wine beside him, was swaggering and shoutingorders to the men as though he were the head of the expedition. Revelations come in strange ways. Perhaps that Italian play might becalled Galeotto to Stephen Birkenholt. It affected him all the morebecause he was not distracted by the dialogue, but was only powerfullytouched by the music, and, in the gestures of the lovers, felt all theforce of sympathy. It was to him like a kind of prophetic mirror, revealing to him the true meaning of all he had ever felt for DennetHeadley, and of his vexation and impatience at seeing her bestowed upona dull and indifferent lout like her kinsman, who not only was not goodenough for her, but did not even love her, or accept her as anything buthis title to the Dragon court. He now thrilled and tingled from head tofoot with the perception that all this meant love--love to Dennet; andin every act of the drama he beheld only himself, Giles, and Dennet. Watching at first with a sweet fascination, his feelings changed, now tostrong yearning, now to hot wrath, and then to horror and dismay. Inhis troubled sleep after the spectacle, he identified himself with thelover, sang, wooed, and struggled in his person, woke with a start ofrelief, to find Giles snoring safely beside him, and the watch-dog onhis chest instead of an expiring lady. He had not made unholy love tosweet Dennet, nor imperilled her good name, nor slain his comrade. Norwas she yet wedded to that oaf Giles! But she would be in a few weeks, and then! How was he to brook the sight, chained as he was to theDragon court--see Giles lord it over her, and all of them, see hermissing the love that was burning for her elsewhere. Stephen lost hisboyhood on that evening, and, though force of habit kept him likehimself outwardly, he never was alone, without feeling dazed, and tornin every direction at once. CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. SWORD OR SMITHY. "Darest thou be so valiant as to play the coward with thy indenture, and to show it a fair pair of heels and run from it!" _Shakespeare_. Tidings came forth on the parting from the French King that the EnglishCourt was about to move to Gravelines to pay a visit to the Emperor andhis aunt, the Duchess of Savoy. As it was hoped that jousts might makepart of the entertainment, the attendance of the Dragon party wasrequired. Giles was unfeignedly delighted at this extension of holiday, Stephen felt that it deferred the day--would it be of strange joy orpain?--of standing face to face with Dennet; and even Kit had come totolerate foreign parts more with Sir John Fulford to show him the way tothe best Flemish ale! The knight took upon himself the conduct of the Dragons. He understoodhow to lead them by routes where all provisions and ale had not beenconsumed; and he knew how to swagger and threaten so as to obtain thebest of liquor and provisions at each _kermesse_--at least so he said, though it might be doubted whether the Flemings might not have been morewilling to yield up their stores to Kit's open, honest face and freehand. However, Fulford seemed to consider himself one with the party; and hebeguiled the way by tales of the doings of the Badgers in Italy andSavoy, which were listened to with avidity by the lads, distractingStephen from the pain at his heart, and filling both with excitement. They were to have the honour of seeing the Badgers at Gravelines, wherethey were encamped outside the city to serve as a guard to the greatinclosure that was being made of canvas stretched on the masts of shipsto mark out the space for a great banquet and dance. The weather broke however just as Henry, his wife and his sister, entered Gravelines; it rained pertinaciously, a tempestuous wind blewdown the erection, and as there was no time to set it up again, thesports necessarily took place in the castle and town hall. There was nooccasion for the exercise of the armourer's craft, and as Charles hadforbidden the concourse of all save invited guests, everything wascomparatively quiet and dull, though the entertainment was on the mostliberal scale. Lodgings were provided in the city at the Emperor'sexpense, and wherever an Englishman was quartered each night, theimperial officers brought a cast of fine manchet bread, two great silverpots with wine, a pound of sugar, white and yellow candles, and a torch. As Randall said, "Charles gave solid pudding where Francis gave emptypraise!" Smallbones and the two youths had very little to do, save to consumethese provisions and accept the hospitality freely offered to them atthe camp of the Badgers, where Smallbones and the Ancient of the troopsat fraternising over big flagons of Flemish ale, which did not visiblyintoxicate the honest smith, but kept him in the dull and drowsy state, which was his idea of the _dolce far niente_ of a holiday. Meanwhilethe two youths were made much of by the warriors, Stephen's dexteritywith the bow and back-sword were shown off and lauded, Giles's strengthwas praised, and all manner of new feats were taught them, all manner ofstories told them; and the shrinking of well-trained young citizens fromthese lawless men, "full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, "and some very truculent-looking, had given way to judicious flattery, and to the attractions of adventure and of a free life, where wealth andhonour awaited the bold. Stephen was told that the gentleman in him was visible, that he ought todisdain the flat cap and blue gown, that here was his opportunity, andthat among the Badgers he would soon be so rich, as to wonder that hehad ever tolerated the greasy mechanical life of a base burgher. Respect to his oaths to his master--Sir John laughed the scruple toscorn; nay, if he were so tender, he could buy his absolution the firsttime he had his pouch full of gold. "What shall I do?" was the cry of Stephen's heart. "My honour and myoath. They bind me. _She_ would weep. My master would deem meungrateful, Ambrose break his heart. And yet who knows but I should doworse if I stayed, I shall break my own heart if I do. I shall notsee--I may forget. No, no, never I but at least I shall never know themoment when the lubber takes the jewel he knows not how to prize!Marches--sieges--there shall I quell this wild beating! I may diethere. At least they will allay this present frenzy of my blood. " And he listened when Fulford and Will Marden, a young English man-at-arms with whom he had made friends, concerted how he should meet them atan inn--the sign of the Seven Stars--in Gravelines, and there exchangehis prentice's garb for the buff coat and corslet of a Badger, with theAustrian black and yellow scarf. He listened, but he had not promised. The sense of duty to his master, the honour to his word, always recurredlike "first thoughts, " though the longing to escape, the restlessness ofhopeless love, the youthful eagerness for adventure and freedom, sweptit aside again and again. He had not seen his uncle since the evening of the comedy, for Hal hadtravelled in the Cardinal's suite, and the amusements being all withindoors, jesters were much in request, as indeed Charles the Fifth wascurious in fools, and generally had at least three in attendance. Stephen, moreover, always shrank from his uncle when actingprofessionally. He had learnt to love and esteem the _man_ during histroubles, but this only rendered the sight of his buffoonery moredistressing, and as Randall had not provided himself with his home suit, they were the more cut off from one another. Thus there was all theless to counteract or show the fallacy of Fulford's recruitingblandishments. The day had come on the evening of which Stephen was to meet Fulford andMarden at the Seven Stars and give them his final answer, in time toallow of their smuggling him out of the city, and sending him away intothe country, since Smallbones would certainly suspect him to be in thecamp, and as he was still an apprentice, it was possible, though notprobable, that the town magistrates might be incited to make search oninquiry, as they were very jealous of the luring away of theirapprentices by the Free Companies, and moreover his uncle might move theCardinal and the King to cause measures to be taken for his recovery. Ill at ease, Stephen wandered away from the hostel where Smallbones wasentertaining his friend, the Ancient. He had not gone far down thestreet when a familiar figure met his eye, no other than that of LucasHansen, his brother's old master, walking along with a pack on his back. Grown as Stephen was, the old man's recognition was as rapid as hisown, and there was a clasp of the hand, an exchange of greeting, whileLucas eagerly asked after his dear pupil, Ambrose. "Come in hither, and we can speak more at ease, " said Lucas, leading theway up the common staircase of a tall house, whose upper storiesoverhung the street. Up and up, Lucas led the way to a room in the highpeaked roof, looking out at the back. Here Stephen recognised a press, but it was not at work, only a young friar was sitting there engaged insewing up sheets so as to form a pamphlet. Lucas spoke to him inFlemish to explain his own return with the English prentice. "Dost thou dwell here, sir?" asked Stephen. "I thought Rotterdam wasthine home. " "Yea, " said Lucas, "so it be, but I am sojourning here to aid in bearingabout the seed of the Gospel, for which I walk through these lands ofours. But tell me of thy brother, and of the little Moorish maiden?" Stephen replied with an account of both Ambrose and Aldonza, andlikewise of Tibble Steelman, explaining how ill the last had been in thewinter, and that therefore he could not be with the party. "I would I had a token to send him, " said Lucas; "but I have nought herethat is not either in the Dutch or the French, and neither of thosetongues doth he understand. But thy brother, the good Ambrose, can readthe Dutch. Wilt thou carry him from me this fresh tractate, showing howmany there be that make light of the Apostle Paul's words not to do evilthat good may come?" Stephen had been hearing rather listlessly, thinking how little the goodman suspected how doubtful it was that he should bear messages toAmbrose. Now, on that sore spot in his conscience, that sentence dartedlike an arrow, the shaft finding "mark the archer little meant, " andwith a start, not lost on Lucas, he exclaimed, "Saith the holy SaintPaul that?" "Assuredly, my son. Brother Cornelis, who is one whose eyes have beenopened, can show you the very words, if thou hast any Latin. " Perhaps to gain time, Stephen assented, and the young friar, with asomewhat inquisitive look, presently brought him the sentence, "_Et nonfaciamus mala ut veniant bona_. " Stephen's Latin was not very fresh, and he hardly comprehended thewords, but he stood gazing with a frown of distress on his brow, whichmade Lucas say, "My son, thou art sorely bestead. Is there aught inwhich a plain old man can help thee, for thy brother's sake? Speakfreely. Brother Cornelis knows not a word of English. Dost thou oweaught to any man?" "Nay, nay--not that, " said Stephen, drawn in his trouble and perplexityto open his heart to this incongruous confidant, "but, sir, sir, whichbe the worst to break my pledge to my master, or to run into a trialwhich--which will last from day to day, and may be too much for me--yea, and for another--at last?" The colour, the trembling of limb, the passion of voice, revealed enoughto Lucas to make him say, in the voice of one who, dried up as he was, had once proved the trial, "'Tis love, thou wouldst say?" "Ay, sir, " said Stephen, turning away, but in another moment burstingforth, "I love my master's daughter, and she is to wed her cousin, whotakes her as her father's chattel! I wist not why the world had growndark to me till I saw a comedy at Ardres, where, as in a mirror, 'twasall set forth--yea, and how love was too strong for him and for her, andhow shame and death came thereof. " "Those players are good for nought but to wake the passions!" mutteredLucas. "Nay, methought they warned me, " said Stephen. "For, sir, "--he hid hisburning face in his hands as he leant on the back of a chair--"I wotthat she has ever liked me better, far better than him. And scarce anight have I closed an eye without dreaming it all, and finding myselfbringing evil on her, till I deemed 'twere better I never saw her more, and left her to think of me as a forsworn runagate rather than see herwedded only to be flouted--and maybe--do worse. " "Poor lad!" said Lucas; "and what wouldst thou do?" "I have not pledged myself--but I said I would consider of--serviceamong Fulford's troop, " faltered Stephen. "Among those ruffians--godless, lawless men!" exclaimed Lucas. "Yea, I know what you would say, " returned Stephen, "but they are bravemen, better than you deem, sir. " "Were they angels or saints, " said Lucas, rallying his forces, "thouhast no right to join, them. Thine oath fetters thee. Thou hast noright to break it and do a sure and certain evil to avoid one that maynever befall! How knowst thou how it may be? Nay, if the trial seem tothee over great, thine apprenticeship will soon be at an end. " "Not for two years. " "Or thy master, if thou spakest the whole truth, would transfer thineindentures. He is a good man, and if it be as thou sayest, would notsee his child tried too sorely. God will make a way for the tempted toescape. They need not take the devil's way. " "Sir, " said Stephen, lifting up his head, "I thank you. This was what Ineeded. I will tell Sir John Fulford that I ought never to have heededhim. " "Must thou see him again?" "I must. I am to give him his answer at the Seven Stars. But fear notme, Master Lucas, he shall not lead me away. " And Stephen took agrateful leave of the little Dutchman, and charged himself with moremessages for Ambrose and Tibble than his overburdened spirit was likelyto retain. Lucas went down the stairs with him, and as a sudden thought said at thefoot of them, "'Tis at the Seven Stars thou meetest this knight. Takean old man's counsel. Taste no liquor there. " "I am no ale bibber, " said Stephen. "Nay, I deemed thee none--but heed my words--captains of landsknechts in_kermesses_ are scarce to be trusted. Taste not. " Stephen gave a sort of laugh at the precaution, and shook himself loose. It was still an hour to the time of meeting, and the Ave-bell wasringing. A church door stood open, and for the first time since he hadbeen at Gravelines he felt that there would be the calm he needed toadjust the conflict of his spirits, and comprehend the new situation, orrather the recurrence to the old one. He seemed to have recovered hisformer self, and to be able to perceive that things might go on asbefore, and his heart really leapt at finding he might return to thesight of Dennet and Ambrose and all he loved. His wishes were really that way; and Fulford's allurements had becomevery shadowy when he made his way to the Seven Stars, whose vine-coveredwindow allowed many loud voices and fumes of beer and wine to escapeinto the summer evening air. The room was perhaps cleaner than an English one would have been, but itwas reeking with heat and odours, and the forest-bred youth wasunwilling to enter, but Fulford and two or three Badgers greeted himnoisily and called on him to partake of the supper they had readyprepared. "No, sir knight, I thank you, " said Stephen. "I am bound for myquarters, I came but to thank you for your goodness to me, and to bidyou farewell. " "And how as to thy pledge to join us, young man?" demanded Fulfordsternly. "I gave no pledge, " said Stephen. "I said I would consider of it. " "Faint-hearted! ha! ha!" and the English Badgers translated the word tothe Germans, and set them shouting with derision. "I am not faint-hearted, " said Stephen; "but I will not break mine oathto my master. " "And thine oath to me? Ha!" said Fulford. "I sware you no oath, I gave you no word, " said Stephen. "Ha! Thou darest give me the lie, base prentice. Take that!" And therewith he struck Stephen a crushing blow on the head, whichfelled him to the ground. The host and all the company, used to pot-house quarrels, and perhaps playing into his hands, took little heed;Stephen was dragged insensible into another room, and there the Badgersbegan hastily to divest him of his prentice's gown, and draw his armsinto a buff coat. Fulford had really been struck with his bravery, and knew besides thathis skill in the armourer's craft would be valuable, so that it had beendetermined beforehand that he should--by fair means or foul--leave theSeven Stars a Badger. "By all the powers of hell, you have struck too hard, sir. He is sped, "said Marden anxiously. "Ass! tut!" said Fulford. "Only enough to daze him till he be safe inour quarters--and for that the sooner the better. Here, call Anton totake his heels. We'll get him forth now as a fellow of our own. " "Hark! What's that?" "Gentlemen, " said the host hurrying in, "here be some of the gentlemenof the English Cardinal, calling for a nephew of one of them, who theysay is in this house. " With an imprecation, Fulford denied all connection with gentlemen of theCardinal; but there was evidently an invasion, and in another moment, several powerful-looking men in the crimson and black velvet of Wolsey'strain had forced their way into the chamber, and the foremost, seeingStephen's condition at a glance, exclaimed loudly, "Thou villain!traitor! kidnapper! This is thy work. " "Ha! ha!" shouted Fulford, "whom have we here? The Cardinal's fool amasquing! Treat us to a caper, quipsome sir?" "I'm more like to treat you to the gyves, " returned Randall. "Away withyou! The watch are at hand. Were it not for my wife's sake, theyshould bear you off to the city jail; the Emperor should know how youfill your ranks. " It was quite true. The city-guard were entering at the street door, andthe host hurried Fulford and his men, swearing and raging, out at a backdoor provided for such emergencies. Stephen was beginning to recover bythis time. His uncle knelt down, took his head on his shoulder, andLucas washed off the blood and administered a drop of wine. His firstwords were: "Was it Giles? Where is she?" "Still going over the play!" thought Lucas. "Nay, nay, lad. 'Twas oneof the soldiers who played thee this scurvy trick! All's well now. Thou wilt soon be able to quit this place. " "I remember now, " said Stephen, "Sir John said I gave him the lie when Isaid I had given no pledge. But I had not!" "Thou hast been a brave fellow, and better broken head than brokentroth, " said his uncle. "But how came you here, " asked Stephen, "in the nick of time?" It was explained that Lucas, not doubting Stephen's resolution, butquite aware of the tricks of landsknecht captains with promisingrecruits in view, had gone first in search of Smallbones, but had foundhim and the Ancient so deeply engaged in potations from the liberalsupply of the Emperor to all English guests, that there was no gettinghim apart, and he was too much muddled to comprehend if he could havebeen spoken with. Lucas then, in desperation, betook himself to the convent where Wolseywas magnificently lodged. Ill May Day had made him, as well as others, well acquainted with the relationship between Stephen and Randall, though he was not aware of the further connection with Fulford. Hehoped, even if unable to see Randall, to obtain help on behalf of anEnglish lad in danger, and happily he arrived at a moment when Stateaffairs were going on, and Randall was refreshing himself by a stroll inthe cloister. When Lucas had made him understand the situation, hisdismay was only equalled by his promptitude. He easily obtained theloan of one of the splendid suits of scarlet and crimson, guarded withblack velvet a hand broad, which were worn by the Cardinal's secularattendants--for he was well known by this time in the household to bevery far from an absolute fool, and indeed had done many a good turn tohis comrades. Several of the gentlemen, indignant at the threatenedoutrage on a young Englishman, and esteeming the craftsmen of theDragon, volunteered to accompany him, and others warned the watch. There was some difficulty still, for the burgher guards, coming uppuffing and blowing, wanted to carry off the victim and keep him in wardto give evidence against the mercenaries, whom they regarded as a sortof wolves, so that even the Emperor never durst quarter them within oneof the cities. The drawn swords of Randall's friends however settledthat matter, and Stephen, though still dizzy, was able to walk. Thusleaning on his uncle, he was escorted back to the hostel. "The villain!" the jester said on the way, "I mistrusted him, but Inever thought he would have abused our kindred in this fashion. I wouldfain have come down to look after thee, nevvy, but these kings andqueens are troublesome folk. The Emperor--he is a pale, shame-faced, solemn lad. Maybe he museth, but he had scarce a word to say forhimself. Our Hal tried clapping on the shoulder, calling him fair coz, and the like, in his hearty fashion. Behold, what doth he but turnround with such a look about the long lip of him as my Lord ofBuckingham might have if his scullion made free with him. His aunt, theDuchess of Savoy, is a merry dame, and a wise! She and our King cantalk by the ell, but as for the Emperor, he speaketh to none willinglysave Queen Katharine, who is of his own stiff Spanish humour, and hehath eyes for none save Queen Mary, who would have been his empress hadhigh folk held to their word. And with so tongue--tied a host, and therain without, what had the poor things to do by way of disportingthemselves with but a show of fools. I've had to go through every trickand quip I learnt when I was with old Nat Fire-eater. And I'm stifferin the joints and weightier in the heft than I was in those days when Islept in the fields, and fasted more than ever Holy Church meant; But, heigh ho! I ought to be supple enough after the practice of these threedays. Moreover, if it could loose a fool's tongue to have a king andqueen for interpreters, I had them--for there were our Harry and Mollcatching at every gibe as fast as my brain could hatch it, and renderingit into French as best thy might, carping and quibbling the whileunderhand at one another's renderings, and the Emperor sitting by in hisblack velvet, smiling about as much as a felon at the hangman's jests. All his poor fools moreover, and the King's own, ready to gnaw theirbaubles for envy! That was the only sport I had! I'm wearier than ifI'd been plying Smallbones' biggest hammer. The worst of it is that myLord Cardinal is to stay behind and go on to Bruges as ambassador, and Iwith him, so thou must bear my greetings to thy naunt, and tell her I'mkeeping from picking up a word of French or Flemish lest this sameCharles should take a fancy to me and ask me of my master, who wouldgive away his own head to get the Pope's fool's cap. " "_Wer da? Qui va la_?" asked a voice, and the summer twilight revealedtwo figures with cloaks held high and drooping Spanish hats; one ofwhom, a slender, youthful figure, so far as could be seen under hiscloak, made inquiries, first in Flemish, then in French, as to whatailed the youth. Lucas replied in the former tongue, and one of theEnglishmen could speak French. The gentleman seemed much concerned, asked if the watch had been at hand, and desired Lucas to assure theyoung Englishman that the Emperor would be much distressed at thetidings, asked where he was lodged, and passed on. "Ah ha!" muttered the jester, "if my ears deceive me now, I'll nevertrust them again! Mynheer Charles knows a few more tricks than he isfain to show off in royal company. Come on, Stevie! I'll see thee tothy bed. Old Kit is too far gone to ask after thee. In sooth, I trowthat my sweet father-in-law set his Ancient to nail him to the wine pot. And Master Giles I saw last with some of the grooms. I said nought tohim, for I trow thou wouldst not have him know thy plight! I'll be withthee in the morning ere thou partest, if kings, queens, and cardinalsroar themselves hoarse for the Quipsome. " With this promise Hal Randall bestowed his still dulled and half-stunnednephew carefully on the pallet provided by the care of the purveyors. Stephen slept dreamily at first, then soundly, and woke at the sound ofthe bells of Gravelines to the sense that a great crisis in his life wasover, a strange wild dream of evil dispelled, and that he was to go hometo see, hear, and act as he could, with a heartache indeed, but with theresolve to do his best as a true and honest man. Smallbones was already afoot--for the start for Calais was to be made onthat very day. The smith was fully himself again, and was bawling forhis subordinates, who had followed his example in indulging in the goodcheer, and did not carry it off so easily. Giles, rather silent andsurly, was out of bed, shouting answers to Smallbones, and calling onStephen to truss his points. He was in a mood not easy to understand, he would hardly speak, and never noticed the marks of the fray onStephen's temple--only half hidden by the dark curly hair. This was ofcourse a relief, but Stephen could not help suspecting that he had beenlast night engaged in some revel about which he desired no inquiries. Randall came just as the operation was completed. He was in a good dealof haste, having to restore the groom's dress he wore by the time theowner had finished the morning toilet of the Lord Cardinal's palfreys. He could not wait to inquire how Stephen had contrived to fall into thehands of Fulford, his chief business being to put under safe charge abag of coins, the largesse from the various princes and nobles whom hehad diverted--ducats, crowns, dollars, and angels all jinglingtogether--to be bestowed wherever Perronel kept her store, a matterwhich Hal was content not to know, though the pair cherished a hope someday to retire on it from fooling. "Thou art a good lad, Steve, " said Hal. "I'm right glad thou leavestthis father of mine behind thee. I would not see thee such as he--no, not for all the gold we saw on the Frenchmen's backs. " This was the jester's farewell, but it was some time before the waggonwas under way, for the carter and one of the smiths were missing, andwere only at noon found in an alehouse, both very far gone in liquor, and one with a black eye. Kit discoursed on sobriety in the mostedifying manner, as at last he drove heavily along the street, almostthe last in the baggage train of the king and queens--but still in timeto be so included in it so as to save all difficulty at the gates. Itwas, however, very late in the evening when they reached Calais, so thatdarkness was coming on as they waited their turn at the drawbridge, witha cart full of scullions and pots and pans before them, and a waggon-load of tents behind. The warders in charge of the gateway had ordersto count over all whom they admitted, so that no unauthorised personmight enter that much-valued fortress. When at length the waggon rolledforward into the shadow of the great towered gateway on the outer sideof the moat, the demand was made, who was there? Giles had alwaysinsisted, as leader of the party, on making reply to such questions, andSmallbones waited for his answer, but none was forthcoming. ThereforeKit shouted in reply, "Alderman Headley's wain and armourers. TwoJourneymen, one prentice, two smiths, two waggoners. " "Seven!" rejoined the warder. "One--two--three--four--five. Ha! yourcompany seems to be lacking. " "Giles must have ridden on, " suggested Stephen, while Kit, growlingangrily, called on the lazy fellow, Will Wherry, to wake and showhimself. But the officials were greatly hurried, and as long as nodangerous person got into Calais, it mattered little to them who mightbe left outside, so they hurried on the waggon into the narrow street. It was well that it was a summer night, for lodgings there were none. Every hostel was full and all the houses besides. The earlier comersassured Kit that it was of no use to try to go on. The streets up tothe wharf were choked, and he might think himself lucky to have hiswaggon to sleep in. But the horses! And food? However, there was onecomfort--English tongues answered, if it was only with denials. Kit's store of travelling money was at a low ebb, and it was nearlyexhausted by the time, at an exorbitant price, he had managed to get alittle hay and water for the horses, and a couple of loaves and a haunchof bacon among the five hungry men. They were quite content to believethat Master Giles had ridden on before and secured better quarters andviands, nor could they much regret the absence of Will Wherry's widemouth. Kit called Stephen to council in the morning. His funds would notpermit waiting for the missing ones, if he were to bring home anyreasonable proportion of gain to his master. He believed that MasterHeadley would by no means risk the whole party loitering at Calais, whenit was highly probable that Giles might have joined some of the othertravellers, and embarked by himself. After all, Kit's store had to be well-nigh expended before the horses, waggon, and all, could find means to encounter the miseries of thetransit to Dover. Then, glad as he was to be on his native soil, hisspirits sank lower and lower as the waggon creaked on under the hot suntowards London. He had actually brought home only four marks to makeover to his master; and although he could show a considerable scoreagainst the King and various nobles, these debts were not apt to bepromptly discharged, and what was worse, two members of his party andone horse were missing. He little knew how narrow an escape he had hadof losing a third! CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. AN INVASION. "What shall be the maiden's fate? Who shall be the maiden's mate?" Scott. No Giles Headley appeared to greet the travellers, though Kit Smallboneshad halted at Canterbury, to pour out entreaties to Saint Thomas, andthe vow of a steel and gilt reliquary of his best workmanship to containthe old shoe, which a few years previously had so much disgusted Erasmusand his companion. Poor old fellow, he was too much crest-fallen thoroughly to enjoy eventhe gladness of his little children; and his wife made no secret of herprevious conviction that he was too dunderheaded not to run into somecoil, when she was not there to look after him. The alderman was moremerciful. Since there had been no invasion from Salisbury, he hadregretted the not having gone himself to Ardres, and he knew pretty wellthat Kit's power lay more in his arms than in his brain. He did notwonder at the small gain, nor at the having lost sight of the young man, and confidently expected the lost ones soon to appear. As to Dennet, her eyes shone quietly, and she took upon herself to senddown to let Mistress Randall know of her nephew's return, and invite herto supper to hear the story of his doings. The girl did not look at alllike a maiden uneasy about her lost lover, but much more like oneenjoying for the moment the immunity from a kind of burthen; and, as shesmiled, called for Stephen's help in her little arrangements, andtreated him in the friendly manner of old times, he could not but wonderat the panic that had overpowered him for a time like a fever of themind. There was plenty to speak of in the glories of the Field of the Cloth ofGold, and the transactions with the knights and nobles; and Stephen heldhis peace as to his adventure, but Dennet's eyes were sharper thanKit's. She spied the remains of the bruise under his black curly hair;and while her father and Tib were unravelling the accounts from Kit'sbrain and tally-sticks, she got the youth out into the gallery, andobserved, "So thou hast a broken head. See here are grandmother's lily-leaves in strong waters. Let me lay one on for thee. There, sit downon the step, then I can reach. " "'Tis well-nigh whole now, sweet mistress, " said Stephen, complyinghowever, for it was too sweet to have those little fingers busy abouthim, for the offer to be declined. "How gatst thou the blow?" asked Dennet. "Was it at single-stick?Come, thou mayst tell me. 'Twas in standing up for some one. " "Nay, mistress, I would it had been. " "Thou hast been in trouble, " she said, leaning on the baluster abovehim. "Or did ill men set on thee?" "That's the nearest guess, " said Stephen. "'Twas that tall father ofmine aunt's, the fellow that came here for armour, and bought poorMaster Michael's sword. " "And sliced the apple on thine hand. Ay?" "He would have me for one of his Badgers. " "Thee! Stephen!" It was a cry of pain as well as horror. "Yea, mistress; and when I refused, the fellow dealt me a blow, and laidme down senseless, to bear me off willy nilly, but that good old LucasHansen brought mine uncle to mine aid--" Dennet clasped her hands. "O Stephen, Stephen! Now I know how good theLord is. Wot ye, I asked of Tibble to take me daily to Saint Faith's tocrave of good Saint Julian to have you all in his keeping, and saith heon the way, `Methinks, mistress, our dear Lord would hear you if youspake to Him direct, with no go-between. ' I did as he bade me, Stephen, I went to the high Altar, and prayed there, and Tibble went with me, andlo, now, He hath brought you back safe. We will have a mass ofthanksgiving on the very morn. " Stephen's heart could not but bound, for it was plain enough for whomthe chief force of these prayers had been offered. "Sweet mistress, " he said, "they have availed me indeed. Certes, theywarded me in the time of sore trial and temptation. " "Nay, " said Dennet, "thou _couldst_ not have longed to go away fromhence with those ill men who live by slaying and plundering?" The present temptation was to say that he had doubted whether thiscourse would not have been for the best both for himself and for her;but he recollected that Giles might be at the gate, and if so, he shouldfeel as if he had rather have bitten out his tongue than have let Dennetknow the state of the case, so he only answered-- "There be sorer temptations in the world for us poor rogues than littlehome-biding house crickets like thee wot of, mistress. Well that ye canpray for us without knowing all!" Stephen had never consciously come so near lovemaking, and his honestface was all one burning glow with the suppressed feeling, while Dennetlingered till the curfew warned them of the lateness of the hour, bothwith a strange sense of undefined pleasure in the being together in thesummer twilight. Day after day passed on with no news of Giles or Will Wherry. Thealderman grew uneasy, and sent Stephen to ask his brother to write toRandall, or to some one else in Wolsey's suite, to make inquiries atBruges. But Ambrose was found to have gone abroad in the train of SirThomas More, and nothing was heard till their return six weeks later, when Ambrose brought home a small packet which had been conveyed to himthrough one of the Emperor's suite. It was tied up with a long toughpale wisp of hair, evidently from the mane or tail of some Flemishhorse, and was addressed, "To Master Ambrose Birkenholt, menial clerk tothe most worshipful Sir Thomas More, Knight, Under Sheriff of the Cityof London. These greeting--" Within, when Ambrose could open the missive, was another small parcel, and a piece of brown coarse paper, on which was scrawled-- "Good Ambrose Birkenholt, --I pray thee to stand, my friend, and let allknow whom it may concern, that when this same billet comes to hand, Ishall be far on the march to High Germany, with a company of lustyfellows in the Emperor's service. They be commanded by the good knight, Sir John Fulford. "If thou canst send tidings to my mother, bid her keep her heart up, forI shall come back a captain, full of wealth and honour, and that will bebetter than hammering for life--or being wedded against mine own will. There never was troth plight between my master's daughter and me, and mytime is over, so I be quit with them, and I thank my master for hisgoodness. They shall all hear of me some of these days. Will Wherry ismy groom, and commends him to his mother. And so, commending thee andall the rest to Our Lady and the saints, "Thine to command, "Giles Headley, "_Man-at-Arms in the Honourable Company of Sir John Fulford, Knight_. " On a separate strip was written-- "Give this packet to the little Moorish maid, and tell her that I willbring her better by and by, and mayhap make her a knight's lady; but onthy life, say nought to any other. " It was out now! Ambrose's head was more in Sir Thomas's books than inreal life at all times, or he would long ago have inferred something--from the jackdaw's favourite phrase--from Giles's modes of haunting hissteps, and making him the bearer of small tokens--an orange, a simnelcake, a bag of walnuts or almonds to Mistress Aldonza, and of thesmiles, blushes, and thanks with which she greeted them. Nay, had shenot burst into tears and entreated to be spared when Lady More wanted tomake a match between her and the big porter, and had not her distressled Mistress Margaret to appeal to her father, who had said he should assoon think of wedding the silver-footed Thetis to Polyphemus. "Tilleyvalley! Master More, " the lady had answered, "will all your fine pagangods hinder the wench from starving on earth, and leading apes in hell. " Margaret had answered that Aldonza should never do the first, and SirThomas had gravely said that he thought those black eyes would lead manya man on earth before they came to the latter fate. Ambrose hid the parcel for her deep in his bosom before he askedpermission of his master to go to the Dragon court with the rest of thetidings. "He always was an unmannerly cub, " said Master Headley, as he read theletter. "Well, I've done my best to make a silk purse of a sow's ear!I've done my duty by poor Robert's son, and if he will be such a fool asto run after blood and wounds, I have no more to say! Though 'tis pityof the old name! Ha! what's this? `Wedded against my will--no trothplight. ' Forsooth, I thought my young master was mighty slack. He hathsome other matter in his mind, hath he? Run into some coil mayhap witha beggar wench! Well, we need not be beholden to him. Ha, Dennet, mymaid!" Dennet screwed up her little mouth, and looked very demure, but shetwinkled her bright eyes, and said, "My heart will not break, sir; I amin no haste to be wed. " Her father pinched her cheek and said she was a silly wench; but perhapshe marked the dancing step with which the young mistress went about herhousehold cares, and how she was singing to herself songs that certainlywere not "Willow! willow!" Ambrose had no scruple in delivering to Aldonza the message and token, when he overtook her on the stairs of the house at Chelsea, carrying upa lapful of roses to the still-room, where Dame Alice More was rejoicingin setting her step-daughters to housewifely tasks. There came a wonderful illumination and agitation over the girl'susually impassive features, giving all that they needed to make themsurpassingly beautiful. "Woe is me!" was, however, her first exclamation. "That he should havegiven up all for me! Oh! if I had thought it!" But while she spoke asif she were shocked and appalled, her eyes belied her words. They shonewith the first absolute certainty of love, and there was no realising asyet the years of silent waiting and anxiety that must go by, nay, perhaps an entire lifetime of uncertainty of her lover's truth oruntruth, life or death. Dame Alice called her, and in a rambling, maundering way, charged herwith loitering and gadding with the young men; and Margaret saw by hercolour and by her eyes that some strange thing had happened to her. Margaret had, perhaps, some intuition; for was not her heart very tendertowards a certain young barrister by name Roper whom her father doubtedas yet, because of his Lutheran inclinations. By and by she discoveredthat she needed Aldonza to comb out her long dark hair, and ere long, she had heard all the tale of the youth cured by the girl's father, andall his gifts, and how Aldonza deemed him too great and too good forher, (poor Giles!) though she knew she should never do more than look upto him with love and gratitude from afar. And she never so much asdreamt that he would cast an eye on her save in kindness. Oh yes, sheknew what he had taught the daw to say, but then she was a child, shedurst not deem it more. And Margaret More was more kind and eager thanworldly wise, and she encouraged Aldonza to watch and wait, promisedprotection from all enforced suits and suitors, and gave assurances ofshelter as her own attendant as long as the girl should need it. Master Headley, with some sighing and groaning, applied himself to writeto the mother at Salisbury what had become of her son; but he had onlyspent one evening over the trying task, when just as the supper bell wasringing, with Master Hope and his wife as guests, there were horses'feet in the court, and Master Tiptoff appeared, with a servant onanother horse, which carried besides a figure in camlet, on a pillion. No sooner was this same figure lifted from her steed and set down on thesteps, while the master of the house and his daughter came out to greether, than she began, "Master Alderman Headley, I am here to know whatyou have done with my poor son!" "Alack, good cousin!" "Alack me no alacks, " she interrupted, holding up her riding rod. "I'llhave no dissembling, there hath been enough of that, Giles Headley. Thou hast sold him, soul and body, to one of yon cruel, bloodthirstyplundering, burning captains, that the poor child may be slain andmurthered! Is this the fair promises you made to his father--wiling himaway from his poor mother, a widow, with talking of teaching him thecraft, and giving him your daughter! My son, Tiptoff here, told me thespousal was delayed and delayed, and he doubted whether it would evercome off, but I thought not of this sending him beyond seas, to makemerchandise of him. And you call yourself an alderman! The gown shouldbe stript off the back of you, and shall be, if there be any justice inLondon for a widow woman. " "Nay, cousin, you have heard some strange tale, " said Master Headley, who, much as he would have dreaded the attack beforehand, faced it themore calmly and manfully because the accusation was so outrageous. "Ay, so I told her, " began her son-in-law, "but she hath been neither tohave nor to hold since the--" "And how should I be to have or to hold by a nincompoop like thee, " shesaid, turning round on him, "that would have me sit down and be contentforsooth, when mine only son is kidnapped to be sold to the Turks or towork in the galleys, for aught I know. " "Mistress!" here Master Hope's voice came in, "I would counsel you tospeak less loud, and hear before you accuse. We of the City of Londonknow Master Alderman Headley too well to hear him railed against. " "Ah! you're all of a piece, " she began; but by this time Master Tiptoffhad managed at least to get her into the hall, and had exchanged wordsenough with the alderman to assure himself that there was anexplanation, nay, that there was a letter from Giles himself. This theindignant mother presently was made to understand--and as the aldermanhad borrowed the letter in order to copy it for her, it was given toher. She could not read, and would trust no one but her son-in-law toread it to her. "Yea, you have it very pat, " she said, "but how am I tobe assured 'tis not all writ here to hoodwink a poor woman like me. " "'Tis Giles's hand, " averred Tiptoff. "And if you will, " added the alderman, with wonderful patience, "to-morrow you may speak with the youth who received it. Come, sit down andsup with us, and then you shall learn from Smallbones how this mischancebefel, all from my sending two young heads together, and one who, thougha good fellow, could not hold all in rule. " "Ay--you've your reasons for anything, " she muttered, but being bothweary and hungry, she consented to eat and drink, while Tiptoff, who wasevidently ashamed of her violence, and anxious to excuse it, managed toexplain that a report had been picked up at Romsey, by a bare-footedfriar from Salisbury, that young Giles Headley had been seen at Ghent byone of the servants of a wool merchant, riding with a troop of FreeCompanions in the Emperor's service. All the rest was deduced from thisintelligence by the dame's own imagination. After supper she was invited to interrogate Kit and Stephen, and hergrief and anxiety found vent in fierce scolding at the misrule which hadpermitted such a villain as Fulford to be haunting and tempting poorfatherless lads. Master Headley had reproached poor Kit for the samething, but he could only represent that Giles, being a freeman, was nolonger under his authority. However, she stormed on, being absolutelyconvinced that her son's evasion was every one's fault but his own. Nowit was the alderman for misusing him, overtasking the poor child, anddeferring the marriage, now it was that little pert poppet, Dennet, whohad flouted him, now it was the bad company he had been led into--thepoor babe who had been bred to godly ways. The alderman was really sorry for her, and felt himself to blame so faras that he had shifted the guidance of the expedition to such aninsufficient head as poor Smallbones, so he let her rail on as much asshe would, till the storm exhausted itself, and she settled into thetrust that Giles would soon grow weary and return. The good man feltbound to show her all hospitality, and the civilities to country cousinswere in proportion to the rarity of their visits. So Mrs Headleystayed on after Tiptoff's return to Salisbury, and had the best viewfeasible of all the pageants and diversions of autumn. She saw somemagnificent processions of clergy, she was welcomed at a civic banquetand drank of the loving cup, and she beheld the Lord Mayor's Show in allits picturesque glory of emblazoned barges on the river. In fact, shefound the position of denizen of an alderman's household so veryagreeable that she did her best to make it a permanency. Nay, Dennetsoon found that she considered herself to be waiting there and keepingguard till her son's return should establish her there, and that sheviewed the girl already as a daughter--for which Dennet was by no meansobliged to her! She lavished counsel on her hostess, found fault withthe maidens, criticised the cookery, walked into the kitchen and still-room with assistance and directions, and even made a strong effort topossess herself of the keys. It must be confessed that Dennet was saucy! It was her weapon of self-defence, and she considered herself insulted in her own house. There she stood, exalted on a tall pair of pattens before the stoutoaken table in the kitchen where a glowing fire burned; pewter, red andyellow earthenware, and clean scrubbed trenchers made a goodly show, acouple of men-cooks and twice as many scullions obeyed her behests--onlythe superior of the two first ever daring to argue a point with her. There she stood, in her white apron, with sleeves turned up, daintilycompounding her mince-meat for Christmas, when in stalked Mrs Headleyto offer her counsel and aid--but this was lost in a volley of barkingfrom the long-backed, bandy-legged, turnspit dog, which was awaiting itsturn at the wheel, and which ran forward, yapping with malign intentionstowards the dame's scarlet-hosed ankles. She shook her petticoats at him, but Dennet tittered even whiledeclaring that Tray hurt nobody. Mrs Headley reviled the dog, and thenproceeded to advise Dennet that she should chop her citron finer. Dennet made answer "that father liked a good stout piece of it. "Mistress Headley offered to take the chopper and instruct her how tocompound all in the true Sarum style. "Grammercy, mistress, but we follow my grand-dame's recipe!" saidDennet, grasping her implement firmly. "Come, child, be not above taking a lesson from thine elders! Where'sthe goose? What?" as the girl looked amazed, "where hast thou lived notto know that a live goose should be bled into the mince-meat?" "I have never lived with barbarous, savage folk, " said Dennet--andtherewith she burst into an irrepressible fit of laughter, trying invain to check it, for a small and mischievous elf, freshly promoted tothe office of scullion, had crept up and pinned a dish-cloth to thesubstantial petticoats, and as Mistress Headley whisked round to seewhat was the matter, like a kitten after its tail, it followed her likea train, while she rushed to box the ears of the offender, crying: "You set him on, you little saucy vixen! I saw it in your eyes. Letthe rascal be scourged. " "Not so, " said Dennet, with prim mouth and laughing eyes. "Far be itfrom me! But 'tis ever the wont of the kitchen, when those come therewho have no call thither. " Mistress Headley flounced away, dish-cloth and all, to go whimpering tothe alderman with her tale of insults. She trusted that her cousinwould give the pert wench a good beating. She was not a whit too oldfor it. "How oft did you beat Giles, good kinswoman?" said Dennet demurely, asshe stood by her father. "Whisht, whisht, child, " said her father, "this may not be! I cannothave my guest flouted. " "If she act as our guest, I will treat her with all honour andcourtesy, " said the maiden; "but when she comes where we look not forguests, there is no saying what the black guard may take it on them todo. " Master Headley was mischievously tickled at the retort, and not withouthope that it might offend his kinswoman into departing; but shecontented herself with denouncing all imaginable evils from Dennet'sungoverned condition, with which she was prevented in her beneficencefrom interfering by the father's foolish fondness. He would rue theday! Meantime if the alderman's peace on one side was disturbed by hisvisitor, on the other, suitors for Dennet's hand gave him little rest. She was known to be a considerable heiress, and though Mistress Headleygave every one to understand that there was a contract with Giles, andthat she was awaiting his return, this did not deter more wooers thanDennet ever knew of, from making proposals to her father. Jasper Hopewas offered, but he was too young, and besides, was a mercer--and Dennetand her father were agreed that her husband must go on with the trade. Then there was a master-armourer, but he was a widower with sons anddaughters as old as Dennet, and she shook her head and laughed at thebare notion. There also came a young knight who would have turned theDragon court into a tilt-yard, and spent all the gold that long years ofprudent toil had amassed. If Mistress Headley deemed each denial the result of her vigilance forher son's interests, she was the more impelled to expatiate on the follyof leaving a maid of sixteen to herself, to let the household go to rackand ruin; while as to the wench, she might prank herself in her ownconceit, but no honest man would soon look at her for a wife, if herfather left her to herself, without giving her a good stepmother, or atleast putting a kinswoman in authority over her. The alderman was stung. He certainly had warmed a snake on his hearth, and how was he to be rid of it? He secretly winked at the resumption ofa forge fire that had been abandoned, because the noise and smokeincommoded the dwelling-house, and Kit Smallbones hammered his loudestthere, when the guest might be taking her morning nap; but this had noeffect in driving her away, though it may have told upon her temper; andgood-humoured Master Headley was harassed more than he had ever been inhis life. "It puts me past my patience, " said he, turning into Tibble's specialworkshop one afternoon. "Here hath Mistress Hillyer of the Eagle beenwith me full of proposals that I would give my poor wench to thatscapegrace lad of hers, who hath been twice called to account before theguild, but who now, forsooth, is to turn over a new leaf. " "So I wis would the Dragon under him, " quoth Tibble. "I told her 'twas not to be thought of, and then what does the dame butsniff the air and protest that I had better take heed, for there may notbe so many who would choose a spoilt, misruled maid like mine. There'sthe work of yonder Sarum woman. I tell thee, Tib, never was bull in thering more baited than am I. " "Yea, sir, " returned Tib, "there'll be no help for it till our youngmistress be wed. " "Ay! that's the rub! But I've not seen one whom I could mate with her--let alone one who would keep up the old house. Giles would have donethat passably, though he were scarce worthy of the wench, evenwithout--" An expressive shake of the head denoted the rest. "And nowif he ever come home at all, 'twill be as a foul-mouthed, plunderingscarecrow, like the kites of men-at-arms, who, if they lose not theirlives, lose all that makes an honest life in the Italian wars. I wouldhave writ to Edmund Burgess, but I hear his elder brother is dead, andhe is driving a good traffic at York. Belike too he is wedded. " "Nay, " said Tibble, "I could tell of one who would be true and faithfulto your worship, and a loving husband to Mistress Dennet, ay, and wouldbe a master that all of us would gladly cleave to. For he is godlyafter his lights, and sound-hearted, and wots what good work be, and cando it. " "That were a son-in-law, Tib! Of who speakest thou? Is he of goodbirth?" "Yea, of gentle birth and breeding. " "And willing? But that they all are. Wherefore then hath he never madesuit?" "He hath not yet his freedom. " "Who be it then?" "He that made this elbow-piece for the suit that Queen Margaret orderedfor the little King of Scots, " returned Tibble, producing an exquisiteminiature bit of workmanship. "Stephen Birkenholt! The fool's nephew! Mine own prentice!" "Yea, and the best worker in steel we have yet turned out. Since thesickness of last winter hath stiffened my joints and dimmed mine eyes, Ihad rather trust dainty work such as this to him than to myself. " "Stephen! Tibble, hath he set thee on to this?" "No, sir. We both know too well what becometh us; but when you werecasting about for a mate for my young mistress, I could not but thinkhow men seek far, and overlook the jewel at their feet. " "He hath nought! That brother of his will give him nought. " "He hath what will be better for the old Dragon and for your worship'sself, than many a bag of gold, sir. " "Thou sayst truly there, Tib. I know him so far that he would not bethe ingrate Jack to turn his back on the old master or the old man. Heis a good lad. But--but--I've ever set my face against the prenticewedding the master's daughter, save when he is of her own house, likeGiles. Tell me, Tibble, deemst thou that the varlet hath dared to lifthis eyes to the lass?" "I wot nothing of love!" said Tibble, somewhat grimly. "I have seennought. I only told your worship where a good son and a good mastermight be had. Is it your pleasure, sir, that we take in a freight ofsea-coal from Simon Collier for the new furnace? His is purest, if amark more the chaldron. " He spoke as if he put the recommendation of the son and master on thesame line as that of the coal. Mr Headley answered the businessmatters absently, and ended by saying he would think on the council. In Tibble's workroom, with the clatter of a forge close to them, theyhad not heard a commotion in the court outside. Dennet had beenstanding on the steps cleaning her tame starling's cage, when MistressHeadley had suddenly come out on the gallery behind her, hotly scoldingher laundress, and waving her cap to show how ill-starched it was. The bird had taken fright and flown to the tree in the court; Dennethastened in pursuit, but all the boys and children in the court rushingout after her, her blandishments had no chance, and "Goldspot" hadfluttered on to the gateway. Stephen had by this time come out, andhastened to the gate, hoping to turn the truant back from escaping intoCheapside; but all in vain, it flew out while the market was in fullcareer, and he could only call back to her that he would not lose sightof it. Out he hurried, Dennet waiting in a sort of despair by the tree for atime that seemed to her endless, until Stephen reappeared under thegate, with a signal that all was well. She darted to meet him. "Yea, mistress, here he is, the little caitiff. He was just knocked down bythis country lad's cap--happily not hurt. I told him you would give hima tester for your bird. " "With all my heart!" and Dennet produced the coin. "Oh! Stephen, areyou sure he is safe? Thou bad Goldspot, to fly away from me! Wink withthine eye--thou saucy rogue! Wottest thou not but for Stephen theymight be blinding thy sweet blue eyes with hot needles?" "His wing is grown since the moulting, " said Stephen. "It should be cutto hinder such mischances. " "Will you do it? I will hold him, " said Dennet. "Ah! 'tis pity, the beauteous green gold-bedropped wing--that no armourof thine can equal, Stephen, not even that for the little King of Scots. But shouldst not be so silly a bird, Goldie, even though thou hastthine excuse. There! Peck not, ill birdling. Know thy friends, MasterStare. " And with such pretty nonsense the two stood together, Dennet in herwhite cap, short crimson kirtle, little stiff collar, and white bib andapron, holding her bird upside down in one hand, and with the othertrying to keep his angry beak from pecking Stephen, who, in his leatherncoat and apron, grimed, as well as his crisp black hair, with soot, stood towering above her, stooping to hold out the lustrous wing withone hand while he used his smallest pair of shears with the other toclip the pen-feathers. "See there, Master Alderman, " cried Mistress Headley, bursting on himfrom the gallery stairs. "Be that what you call fitting for yourdaughter and your prentice, a beggar lad from the heath? I ever toldyou she would bring you to shame, thus left to herself. And now you seeit. " Their heads had been near together over the starling, but at thisobjurgation they started apart, both crimson in the cheeks, and Dennetflew up to her father, bird in hand, crying, "O father, father! sufferher not. He did no wrong. He was cutting my bird's wing. " "I suffer no one to insult my child in her own house, " said thealderman, so much provoked as to be determined to put an end to it allat once. "Stephen Birkenholt, come here. " Stephen came, cap in hand, red in the face, with a strange tumult in hisheart, ready to plead guilty, though he had done nothing, but imaginingat the moment that his feelings had been actions. "Stephen, " said the alderman, "thou art a true and worthy lad! Canstthou love my daughter?" "I--I crave your pardon, sir, there was no helping it, " stammeredStephen, not catching the tone of the strange interrogation, andexpecting any amount of terrible consequences for his presumption. "Then thou wilt be a faithful spouse to her, and son to me? And Dennet, my daughter, hast thou any distaste to this youth--though he bringnought but skill and honesty!" "O, father, father! I--I had rather have him than any other!" "Then, Stephen Birkenholt and Dennet Headley, ye shall be man and wife, so soon as the young man's term be over, and he be a freeman--so hecontinue to be that which he seems at present. Thereto I give my word, I, Giles Headley, Alderman of the Chepe Ward, and thereof ye arewitnesses, all of you. And God's blessing on it. " A tremendous hurrah arose, led by Kit Smallbones, from every workman inthe court, and the while Stephen and Dennet, unaware of anything else, flew into one another's arms, while Goldspot, on whom the operation hadbeen fortunately completed, took refuge upon Stephen's head. "O, Mistress Dennet, I have made you black all over!" was Stephen'sfirst word. "Heed not, I ever loved the black!" she cried, as her eyes sparkled. "So I have done what was to thy mind, my lass?" said Master Headley, who, without ever having thought of consulting his daughter, wasdelighted to see that her heart was with him. "Sir, I did not know fully--but indeed I should never have been so happyas I am now. "Sir, " added Stephen, putting his knee to the ground, "it nearly wrungmy heart to think of her as belonging to another, though I never durstutter aught, "--and while Dennet embraced her father, Stephen sobbed forvery joy, and with difficulty said in broken words something about a"son's duty and devotion. " They were broken in upon by Mistress Headley, who, after standing inmute consternation, fell on them in a fury. She understood the devicenow! All had been a scheme laid amongst them for defrauding her poorfatherless child, driving him away, and taking up this beggarly brat. She had seen through the little baggage from the first, and she pitiedMaster Headley. Rage was utterly ungovernable in those days, and sheactually was flying to attack Dennet with her nails when the aldermancaught her by the wrists; and she would have been almost too much forhim, had not Kit Smallbones come to his assistance, and carried her, kicking and screaming like a naughty child, into the house. There wassmall restraint of temper in those days even in high life, and below it, there was some reason for the employment of the padlock and the duckingstool. Floods of tears restored the dame to some sort of composure; but shedeclared she could stay no longer in a house where her son had been ill-used and deceived, and she had been insulted. The alderman thought theinsult had been the other way, but he was too glad to be rid of her onany terms to gainsay her, and at his own charge, undertook to procurehorse and escort to convey her safely to Salisbury the next morning. Headvised Stephen to keep out of her sight for the rest of the day, givingleave of absence, so that the youth, as one treading on air, set forthto carry to his brother, his aunt, and if possible, his uncle, theintelligence that he could as yet hardly believe was more than a happydream. CHAPTER TWENTY THREE. UNWELCOME PREFERMENT. "I am a poor fallen man, unworthy now To be thy lord and master. Seek the king! That sun I pray may never set. " Shakespeare. Matters flowed on peaceably with Stephen and Dennet. The alderman sawno reason to repent his decision, hastily as it had been made. Stephengave himself no unseemly airs of presumption, but worked on as one whoseheart was in the business, and Dennet rewarded her father's trust by herdiscretion. They were happily married in the summer of 1522, as soon as Stephen'sapprenticeship was over; and from that time, he was in the position ofthe master's son, with more and more devolving on him as Tibble becameincreasingly rheumatic every winter, and the alderman himself grew inflesh and in distaste to exertion. Ambrose meanwhile prospered with his master, and could easily haveobtained some office in the law courts that would have enabled him tomake a home of his own; but if he had the least inclination to the loveof women, it was all merged in a silent distant worship of "sweet paleMargaret, rare pale Margaret, " the like-minded daughter of Sir ThomasMore--an affection which was so entirely devotion at a shrine, that itsuffered no shock when Sir Thomas at length consented to his daughter'smarriage with William Roper. Ambrose was the only person who ever received any communication fromGiles Headley. They were few and far between, but when Stephen Gardinerreturned from his embassy to Pope Clement the Seventh, who was then atOrvieto, one of the suite reported to Ambrose how astonished he had beenby being accosted in good English by one of the imperial men-at-arms, who were guarding his Holiness in actual though unconfessed captivity. This person had sent his commendations to Ambrose, and likewise alaborious bit of writing, which looked as if he were fast forgetting theart. It bade Ambrose inform his mother and all his friends and kin thathe was well and coming to preferment, and inclosed for Aldonza a smallmother-of-pearl cross blessed by the Pope. Giles added that he shouldbring her finer gifts by and by. Seven years' constancy! It gave quite a respectability to Giles's love, and Aldonza was still ready and patient while waiting in attendance onher beloved mistress. Ambrose lived on in the colony at Chelsea, sometimes attending hismaster, especially on diplomatic missions, and generally acting aslibrarian and foreign secretary, and obtaining some notice from Erasmuson the great scholar's visit to Chelsea. Under such guidance, Ambrose'sopinions had settled down a good deal; and he was a disappointment toTibble, whose views advanced proportionably as he worked less, and readand thought more. He so bitterly resented and deplored the burning ofTindal's Bible that there was constant fear that he might bring onhimself the same fate, especially as he treasured his own copy andstudied it constantly. The reform that Wolsey had intended to effectwhen he obtained the legatine authority seemed to fall into thebackground among political interests, and his efforts had as yet noresult save the suppression of some useless and ill-managed smallreligious houses to endow his magnificent project of York College atOxford, with a feeder at Ipswich, his native town. He was waiting to obtain the papacy, when he would deal better with theabuses. Randall once asked him if he were not waiting to be King ofHeaven, when he could make root and branch work at once. Hal had neverso nearly incurred a flogging! And in the meantime another influence was at work, an influence onlyheard of at first in whispered jests, which made loyal-hearted Dennetblush and look indignant, but which soon grew to sad earnest, as shecould not but avow, when she beheld the stately pomp of the twoCardinals, Wolsey and Campeggio, sweep up to the Blackfriars Convent tosit in judgment on the marriage of poor Queen Katharine. "Out on them!" she said. "So many learned men to set their wits againstone poor woman!" And she heartily rejoiced when they came to nodecision, and the Pope was appealed to. As to understanding all theexplanations that Ambrose brought from time to time, she called themquirks and quiddities, and left them to her father and Tibble to discussin their chimney corners. They had seen nothing of the jester for a good while, for he was withWolsey, who was attending the King on a progress through the midlandshires. When the Cardinal returned to open the law courts as Chancellorat the beginning of the autumn term, still Randall kept away from home, perhaps because he had forebodings that he could not bear to mention. On the evening of that very day, London rang with the tidings that theGreat Seal had been taken from the Cardinal, and that he was underorders to yield up his noble mansion of York House and to retire toEsher; nay, it was reported that he was to be imprisoned in the Tower, and the next day the Thames was crowded with more than a thousand boatsfilled with people, expecting to see him landed at the Traitors' Gate, and much disappointed when his barge turned towards Putney. In the afternoon, Ambrose came to the Dragon court. Even as Stephen figured now as a handsome prosperous young freeman ofthe City, Ambrose looked well in the sober black apparel and neat ruffof a lawyer's clerk--clerk indeed to the first lawyer in the kingdom, for the news had spread before him that Sir Thomas More had become LordChancellor. "Thou art come to bear us word of thy promotion--for thy master's isthine own, " said the alderman heartily as he entered, shaking hands withhim. "Never was the Great Seal in better hands. " "'Tis true indeed, your worship, " said Ambrose, "though it will lay aheavy charge on him, and divert him from much that he loveth betterstill. I came to ask of my sister Dennet a supper and a bed for thenight, as I have been on business for him, and can scarce get back toChelsea. " "And welcome, " said Dennet. "Little Giles and Bess have been wearyingfor their uncle. " "I must not toy with them yet, " said Ambrose, "I have a message for myaunt. Brother, wilt thou walk down to the Temple with me beforesupper?" "Yea, and how is it with Master Randall?" asked Dennet. "Be he gonewith my Lord Cardinal?" "He is made over to the King, " said Ambrose briefly. "'Tis that which Imust tell his wife. " "Have with thee, then, " said Stephen, linking his arm into that of hisbrother, for to be together was still as great an enjoyment to them asin Forest days. And on the way, Ambrose told what he had not beenwilling to utter in full assembly in the hall. He had been sent by hismaster with a letter of condolence to the fallen Cardinal, and likewiseof inquiry into some necessary business connected with thechancellorship. Wolsey had not time to answer before embarking, but asSir Thomas had vouched for the messenger's ability and trustiness, hehad bidden Ambrose come into his barge, and receive his instructions. Thus Ambrose had landed with him, just as a messenger came riding inhaste from the King, with a kind greeting, assuring his old friend thathis seeming disgrace was only for a time, and for political reasons, andsending him a ring in token thereof. The Cardinal had fallen on hisknees to receive the message, had snatched a gold chain and preciousrelic from his own neck to reward the messenger, and then, casting aboutfor some gift for the King, "by ill-luck, " said Ambrose, "his eye litupon our uncle, and he instantly declared that he would bestow Patch, asthe Court chooses to call him, on the King. Well, as thou canst guess, Hal is hotly wroth at the treatment of his lord, whom he truly loveth;and he flung himself before the Cardinal, and besought that he might notbe sent from his good lord. But the Cardinal was only chafed at aughtthat gainsaid him; and all he did was to say he would have no more ado, he had made his gift. `Get thee gone, ' he said, as if he had beenordering off a horse or dog. Well-a-day! it was hard to brook thesight, and Hal's blood was up. He flatly refused to go, saying he wasthe Cardinal's servant, but no villain nor serf to be thus made overwithout his own will. " "He was in the right there, " returned Stephen, hotly. "Yea, save that by playing the fool, poor fellow, he hath yielded up therights of a wise man. Any way, all he gat by it was that the Cardinalbade two of the yeomen lay hands on him and bear him off. Then therecame on him that reckless mood, which, I trow, banished him long agofrom the Forest, and brought him to the motley. He fought with themwith all his force, and broke away once--as if that were of any use fora man in motley!--but he was bound at last and borne off by six of themto Windsor!" "And thou stoodst by, and beheld it!" cried Stephen. "Nay, what could I have done, save to make his plight worse, and forfeitall chance of yet speaking to him?" "Thou wert ever cool! I wot that I could not have borne it, " saidStephen. They told the story to Perronel, who was on the whole elated by herhusband's promotion, declaring that the King loved him well, and that hewould soon come to his senses, though for a wise man, he certainly hadtoo much of the fool, even as he had too much of the wise man for thefool. She became anxious, however, as the weeks passed by without hearing ofor from him, and at length Ambrose confessed his uneasiness to his kindmaster, and obtained leave to attend him on the next summons to Windsor. Ambrose could not find his uncle at first. Randall, who used to pervadeYork House, and turn up everywhere when least expected, did not appearamong the superior serving-men and secretaries with whom his nephewranked, and of course there was no access to the state apartments. SirThomas, however, told Ambrose that he had seen Quipsome Hal among theother jesters, but that he seemed dull and dejected. Then Ambrosebeheld from a window a cruel sight, for the other fools, three innumber, were surrounding Hal, baiting and teasing him, triumphing overhim in fact, for having formerly outshone them, while he stood amongthem like a big dog worried by little curs, against whom he disdained touse his strength. Ambrose, unable to bear this, ran down stairs toendeavour to interfere; but before he could find his way to the spot, anarrival at the gate had attracted the tormentors, and Ambrose found hisuncle leaning against the wall alone. He looked thin and wan, the lightwas gone out of his black eyes, and his countenance was in sad contrastto his gay and absurd attire. He scarcely cheered up when his nephewspoke to him, though he was glad to hear of Perronel. He said he knewnot when he should see her again, for he had been unable to secure hissuit of ordinary garments, so that even if the King came to London, orif he could elude the other fools, he could not get out to visit her. He was no better than a prisoner here, he only marvelled that the Kingretained so wretched a jester, with so heavy a heart. "Once thou wast in favour, " said Ambrose. "Methought thou couldst haveavailed thyself of it to speak for the Lord Cardinal. " "What? A senseless cur whom he kicked from him, " said Randall. "'Twasthat took all spirit from me, boy. I, who thought he loved me, as Ilove him to this day. To send me to be sport for his foes! I think ofit day and night, and I've not a gibe left under my belt!" "Nay, " said Ambrose, "it may have been that the Cardinal hoped to securea true friend at the King's ear, as well as to provide for thee. " "Had he but said so--" "Nay, perchance he trusted to thy sharp wit. " A gleam came into Hal's eyes. "It might be so. Thou always wast atoward lad, Ambrose, and if so, I was cur and fool indeed to baulk him. " Therewith one of the other fools danced back exhibiting a silver crownthat had just been flung to him, mopping and mowing, and demanding whenPatch would have wit to gain the like. Whereto Hal replied by pointingto Ambrose and declaring that that gentleman had given him better thanfifty crowns. And that night, Sir Thomas told Ambrose that the Quipsomeone had recovered himself, had been more brilliant than ever and hadquite eclipsed the other fools. On the next opportunity, Ambrose contrived to pack in his cloak-bag, thecap and loose garment in which his uncle was wont to cover his motley. The Court was still at Windsor; but nearly the whole of Sir Thomas'sstay elapsed without Ambrose being able to find his uncle. Wolsey hadbeen very ill, and the King had relented enough to send his ownphysician to attend him. Ambrose began to wonder if Hal could havefound any plea for rejoining his old master; but in the last hour of hisstay, he found Hal curled up listlessly on a window seat of a gallery, his head resting on his hand. "Uncle, good uncle! At last! Thou art sick?" "Sick at heart, lad, " said Hal, looking up. "Yea, I took thy counsel. I plucked up a spirit, I made Harry laugh as of old, though my heartsmote me, as I thought how he was wont to be answered by my master. Ieven brooked to jest with the night-crow, as my own poor lord calledthis Nan Boleyn. And lo you now, when his Grace was touched at mylord's sickness, I durst say there was one sure elixir for such as he, to wit a gold Harry; and that a King's touch was a sovereign cure forother disorders than the King's evil. Harry smiled, and in ten minutesmore would have taken horse for Esher, had not Madam Nan claimed hisword to ride out hawking with her. And next, she sendeth me a warningby one of her pert maids, that I should be whipped, if I spoke to hisGrace of unfitting matters. My flesh could brook no more, and like aborn natural, I made answer that Nan Boleyn was no mistress of mine tobid me hold a tongue that had spoken sooth to her betters. Thereupon, what think you, boy? The grooms came and soundly flogged me foruncomely speech of my Lady Anne! I that was eighteen years with my LordCardinal, and none laid hand on me! Yea, I was beaten; and then shut upin a dog-hole for three days on bread and water, with none to speak to, but the other fools jeering at me like a rogue in a pillory. " Ambrose could hardly speak for hot grief and indignation, but he wrunghis uncle's hand, and whispered that he had hid the loose gown behindthe arras of his chamber, but he could do no more, for he was summonedto attend his master, and a servant further thrust in to say, "Concernyourself not for that rogue, sir, he hath been saucy, and must mend hismanners, or he will have worse. " "Away, kind sir, " said Hal, "you can do the poor fool no further good!but only bring the pack about the ears of the mangy hound. " And he sanga stave appropriated by a greater man than he-- "Then let the stricken deer go weep, The hart ungalled play. " The only hope that Ambrose or his good master could devise for poorRandall was that Sir Thomas should watch his opportunity and beg thefool from the King, who might part with him as a child gives away theonce coveted toy that has failed in its hands; but the request wouldneed circumspection, for all had already felt the change that had takenplace in the temper of the King since Henry had resolutely undertakenthat the wrong should be the right; and Ambrose could not but dread theeffect of desperation on a man whose nature had in it a vein ofimpatient recklessness. It was after dinner, and Dennet, with her little boy and girl, was onthe steps dispensing the salt fish, broken bread, and pottage of theLenten meal to the daily troop who came for her alms, when, among them, she saw, somewhat to her alarm, a gipsy man, who was talking to littleGiles. The boy, a stout fellow of six, was astride on the balustrade, looking up eagerly into the face of the man, who began imitating thenote of a blackbird. Dennet, remembering the evil propensities of thegipsy race, called hastily to her little son to come down and return toher side; but little Giles was unwilling to move, and called to her, "Omother, come! He hath a bird-call!" In some perturbation lest the manmight be calling her bird away, Dennet descended the steps. She wasabout to utter a sharp rebuke, but Giles held out his hand imploringly, and she paused a moment to hear the sweet full note of the "ouzel cock, with orange tawny bill, " closely imitated on a tiny bone whistle. "Hewill sell it to me for two farthings, " cried the boy, "and teach me tosing on it like all the birds--" "Yea, good mistress, " said the gipsy, "I can whistle a tune that thelittle master, ay, and others, might be fain to hear. " Therewith, spite of the wild dress, Dennet knew the eyes and the voice. And perhaps the blackbird's note had awakened echoes in another mind, for she saw Stephen, in his working dress, come out to the door of theshop where he continued to do all the finer work which had formerlyfallen to Tibble's share. She lifted her boy from his perch, and bade him take the stranger to hisfather, who would no doubt give him the whistle. And thus, havingwithout exciting attention, separated the fugitive from the rest of herpensioners, she made haste to dismiss them. She was not surprised that little Giles came running back to her, producing unearthly notes on the instrument, and telling her that fatherhad taken the gipsy into his workshop, and said they would teach himbird's songs by and by. "Steve, Steve, " had been the first words uttered when the boy was out ofhearing, "hast thou a smith's apron and plenty of smut to bestow on me?None can tell what Harry's mood may be, when he finds I've given him theslip. That is the reason I durst not go to my poor dame. " "We will send to let her know. I thought I guessed what black ouzel'twas! I mind how thou didst make the like notes for us when we were nobigger than my Giles!" "Thou hast a kind heart Stephen. Here! Is thy furnace hot enough tomake a speedy end of this same greasy gipsy doublet? I trust not thevarlet with whom I bartered it for my motley. And a fine bargain he hadof what I trust never to wear again to the end of my days. Make me asmith complete, Stephen, and then will I tell thee my story. " "We must call Kit into counsel, ere we can do that fully, " said Stephen. In a few minutes Hal Randall was, to all appearance, a very shabby andgrimy smith, and then he took breath to explain his anxiety and alarm. Once again, hearing that the Cardinal was to be exiled to York, he hadventured on a sorry jest about old friends and old wine being betterthan new; but the King, who had once been open to plain speaking, wasnow incensed, threatened and swore at him! Moreover, one of the otherfools had told him, in the way of boasting that he had heard MasterCromwell, formerly the Cardinal's secretary, informing the King thatthis rogue was no true "natural" at all, but was blessed, (or cursed), with as good an understanding as other folks, as was well known in theCardinal's household, and that he had no doubt been sent to serve as aspy, so that he was to be esteemed a dangerous person, and had best beput under ward. Hal had not been able to discover whether Cromwell had communicated hisname, but he suspected that it might be known to that acute person, andhe could not tell whether his compeer spoke out of a sort of good-natured desire to warn him, or simply to triumph in his disgrace, andleer at him for being an impostor. At any rate, being now desperate, hecovered his parti-coloured raiment with the gown Ambrose had brought, made a perilous descent from a window in the twilight, scaled a wallwith the agility that seemed to have returned to him, and reachedWindsor Forest. There, falling on a camp of gipsies, he had availed himself of oldexperiences in his wild Shirley days, and had obtained an exchange ofgarb, his handsome motley being really a prize to the wanderers. Thushe had been able to reach London; but he did not feel any confidencethat if he were pursued to the gipsy tent he would not be betrayed. In this, his sagacity was not at fault, for he had scarcely made hisexplanation, when there was a knocking at the outer gate, and a demandto enter in the name of the King, and to see Alderman Sir Giles Headley. Several of the stout figures of the yeomen of the King's guard wereseen crossing the court, and Stephen, committing the charge of his uncleto Kit, threw off his apron, washed his face and went up to the hall, not very rapidly, for he suspected that since his father-in-law knewnothing of the arrival, he would best baffle the inquiries by sinceredenials. And Dennet, with her sharp woman's wit, scenting danger, had whiskedherself and her children out of the hall at the first moment, and takenthem down to the kitchen, where modelling with a batch of dough occupiedboth of them. Meantime the alderman flatly denied the presence of the jester, or theharbouring of the gipsy. He allowed that the jester was of kin to hisson-in-law, but the good man averred in all honesty that he knew noughtof any escape, and was absolutely certain that no such person was in thecourt. Then, as Stephen entered, doffing his cap to the King's officer, the alderman continued, "There, fair son, this is what these gentlemenhave come about. Thy kinsman, it seemeth, hath fled from Windsor, andhis Grace is mightily incensed. They say he changed clothes with agipsy, and was traced hither this morn, but I have told them the thingis impossible. " "Will the gentlemen search?" asked Stephen. The gentlemen did search, but they only saw the smiths in full work; andin Smallbones' forge, there was a roaring glowing furnace, with a bare-armed fellow feeding it with coals, so that it fairly scorched them, andgave them double relish for the good wine and beer that was put out onthe table to do honour to them. Stephen had just with all civility seen them off the premises whenPerronel came sobbing into the court. They had visited her first, forCromwell had evidently known of Randall's haunts; they had turned herlittle house upside down, and had threatened her hotly in case sheharboured a disloyal spy, who deserved hanging. She came to consultStephen, for the notion of her husband wandering about, as a sort ofoutlaw, was almost as terrible as the threat of his being hanged. Stephen beckoned her to a store-room full of gaunt figures of armourupon blocks, and there brought up to her his extremely grimy new hand! There was much gladness between them, but the future had to beconsidered. Perronel had a little hoard, the amount of which she wastoo shrewd to name to any one, even her husband, but she considered itsufficient to enable him to fulfil the cherished scheme of his life, ofretiring to some small farm near his old home, and she was for settingoff at once. But Harry Randall declared that he could not go withouthaving offered his services to his old master. He had heard of his"good lord" as sick, sad, and deserted by those whom he had cherished, and the faithful heart was so true in its loyalty that no persuasioncould prevail in making it turn south. "Nay, " said the wife, "did he not cast thee off himself, and serve theelike one of his dogs! How canst thou be bound to him?" "There's the rub!" sighed Hal. "He sent me to the King deeming that heshould have one full of faithful love to speak a word on his behalf, andI, brutish oaf as I was, must needs take it amiss, and sulk and mopetill the occasion was past, and that viper Cromwell was there to back upthe woman Boleyn and poison his Grace's ear. " "As if a man must not have a spirit to be angered by such treatment. " "Thou forgettest, good wife. No man, but a fool, and to be entreated assuch! Be that as it may, to York I must. I have eaten of my lord'sbread too many years, and had too much kindness from him in the days ofhis glory, to seek mine own ease now in his adversity. Thou wouldsthave a poor bargain of me when my heart is away. " Perronel saw that thus it would be, and that this was one of the pointson which, to her mind, her husband was more than half a veritable foolafter all. There had long been a promise that Stephen should, in some time of slackemployment make a visit to his old comrade, Edmund Burgess, at York; andas some new tools and patterns had to be conveyed thither, a suddenresolution was come to, in family conclave, that Stephen himself shouldconvey them, taking his uncle with him as a serving-man, to attend tothe horses. The alderman gave full consent, he had always wishedStephen to see York, while he himself with Tibble Steelman, was able toattend to the business; and while he pronounced Randall to have a heartof gold, well worth guarding, he still was glad when the risk was overof the King's hearing that the runaway jester was harboured at theDragon. Dennet did not like the journey for her husband, for to hermind it was perilous, but she had had a warm affection for his uncleever since their expedition to Richmond together, and she did her bestto reconcile the murmuring and wounded Perronel by praises of Randall, atrue and noble heart; and that as to setting her aside for the Cardinal, who had heeded him so little, such faithfulness only made her moresecure of his true-heartedness towards her. Perronel was moreover tobreak up her business, dispose of her house, and await her husband'sreturn at the Dragon. Stephen came back after a happy month with his friend, stored withwondrous tales and descriptions which would last the children for amonth. He had seen his uncle present himself to the Cardinal at CawoodCastle. It had been a touching meeting. Hal could hardly restrain histears when he saw how Wolsey's sturdy form had wasted, and his roundruddy cheeks had fallen away, while the attitude in which he sat in hischair was listless and weary, though he fitfully exerted himself withhis old vigour. Hal on his side, in the dark plain dress of a citizen, was hardlyrecognisable, for not only had he likewise grown thinner, and his browncheeks more hollow, but his hair had become almost white during hismiserable weeks at Windsor, though he was not much over forty years old. He came up the last of a number who presented themselves for theArchiepiscopal blessing, as Wolsey sat under a large tree in CawoodPark. Wolsey gave it with his raised fingers, without special heed, buttherewith Hal threw himself on the ground, kissed his feet, and cried, "My lord, my dear lord, your pardon. " "What hast done, fellow? Speak!" said the Cardinal. "Grovel not thus. We will be merciful. " "Ah! my lord, " said Randall, lifting himself up, but with clasped handsand tearful eyes, "I did not serve you as I ought with the King, but ifyou will forgive me and take me back--" "How now? How couldst thou serve me? What!"--as Hal made a familiargesture--"thou art not the poor fool, Quipsome Patch? How comest thouhere? Methought I had provided well for thee in making thee over to theKing. " "Ah! my lord, I was fool, fool indeed, but all my jests failed me. Howcould I make sport for your enemies?" "And thou hast come, thou hast left the King to follow my fallenfortunes?" said Wolsey. "My poor boy, he who is sitting in sackclothand ashes needs no jester. " "Nay, my lord, nor can I find one jest to break! Would you but let mebe your meanest horse-boy, your scullion!" Hal's voice was cut short bytears as the Cardinal abandoned to him one hand. The other was dryingeyes that seldom wept. "My faithful Hal!" he said, "this is love indeed!" And Stephen ere he came away had seen his uncle fully established, as arational creature, and by his true name, as one of the personalattendants on the Cardinal's bed-chamber, and treated with the affectionhe well deserved. Wolsey had really seemed cheered by his affection, and was devoting himself to the care of his hitherto neglected and evenunvisited diocese, in a way that delighted the hearts of theYorkshiremen. The first idea was that Perronel should join her husband at York, butsafe modes of travelling were not easy to be found, and before anysatisfactory escort offered, there were rumours that made it prudent todelay. As autumn advanced, it was known that the Earl of Northumberlandhad been sent to attach the Cardinal of High Treason. Then ensued otherreports that the great Cardinal had sunk and died on his way to Londonfor trial; and at last, one dark winter evening, a sorrowful manstumbled up the steps of the Dragon, and as he came into the brightlight of the fire, and Perronel sprang to meet him, he sank into a chairand wept aloud. He had been one of those who had lifted the brokenhearted Wolsey fromhis mule in the cloister of Leicester Abbey, he had carried him to hisbed, watched over him, and supported him, as the Abbot of Leicester gavehim the last Sacraments. He had heard and treasured up those mournfulwords which are Wolsey's chief legacy to the world, "Had I but served myGod, as I have served my king, He would not have forsaken me in my oldage. " For himself, he had the dying man's blessing, and assurance thatnothing had so much availed to cheer in these sad hours as his faithfullove. Now, Perronel might do what she would with him--he cared not. And what she did was to set forth with him for Hampshire, on a pair ofstout mules with a strong serving-man behind them. CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. THE SOLDIER. "Of a worthy London prentice My purpose is to speak, And tell his brave adventures Done for his country's sake. Seek all the world about And you shall hardly find A man in valour to exceed A prentice' gallant mind. " _The Homes of a London Prentice_. Six more years had passed over the Dragon court, when, one fine summerevening, as the old walls rang with the merriment of the young boys atplay, there entered through the gateway a tall, well-equipped, soldierlyfigure, which caught the eyes of the little armourer world in a moment. "Oh, that's a real Milan helmet!" exclaimed the one lad. "And oh, what a belt and buff coat!" cried another. The subject of their admiration advanced muttering, "As if I'd not beenaway a week, " adding, "I pray you, pretty lads, doth Master AldermanHeadley still dwell here?" "Yea, sir, he is our grandfather, " said the elder boy, holding a lesserone by the shoulder as he spoke. "Verily! And what may be your names?" "I am Giles Birkenholt, and this is my little brother, Dick. " "Even as I thought. Wilt thou run in to your grandsire, and tell him?" The bigger boy interrupted, "Grandfather is going to bed. He is old andweary, and cannot see strangers so late. 'Tis our father who hearethall the orders. " "And, " added the little one, with wide-open grave eyes, "Mother bade usrun out and play and not trouble father, because uncle Ambrose is sodowncast because they have cut off the head of good Sir Thomas More. " "Yet, " said the visitor, "methinks your father would hear of an oldcomrade. Or stay, where be Tibble Steelman and Kit Smallbones?" "Tibble is in the hall, well-nigh as sad as uncle Ambrose, " began Dick;but Giles, better able to draw conclusions, exclaimed, "Tibble! Kit!You know them, sir! Oh! are you the Giles Headley that ran away to be asoldier ere I was born? Kit! Kit! see here--" as the giant, broaderand perhaps a little more bent, but with little loss of strength, cameforward out of his hut, and taking up the matter just where it had beenleft fourteen years before, demanded as they shook hands, "Ah, MasterGiles, how couldst thou play me such a scurvy trick?" "Nay, Kit, was it not best for all that I turned my back to make way forhonest Stephen?" By this time young Giles had rushed up the stair to the hall, where, ashe said truly, Stephen was giving his brother such poor comfort as couldbe had from sympathy, when listening to the story of the cheerful, braveresignation of the noblest of all the victims of Henry the Eighth. Ambrose had been with Sir Thomas well-nigh to the last, had carriedmessages between him and his friends during his imprisonment, had handedhis papers to him at his trial, had been with Mrs Roper when she brokethrough the crowd and fell on his neck as he walked from WestminsterHall with the axe-edge turned towards him; had received his last kindfarewell, counsel, and blessing, and had only not been with him on thescaffold because Sir Thomas had forbidden it, saying, in the old strainof mirth, which never forsook him, "Nay, come not, my good friend. Thouart of a queasy nature, and I would fain not haunt thee against thywill. " All was over now, the wise and faithful head had fallen, because itwould not own the wrong for the right; and Ambrose had been brought homeby his brother, a being confounded, dazed, seeming hardly able to thinkor understand aught save that the man whom he had above all loved andlooked up to was taken from him, judicially murdered, and by the King. The whole world seemed utterly changed to him, and as to thinking orplanning for himself, he was incapable of it; indeed, he lookedfearfully ill. His little nephew came up to his father's knee, pausing, though open-mouthed, and at the first token of permission, bursting out, "Oh! father! Here's a soldier in the court! Kit is talking to him. And he is Giles Headley that ran away. He has a beauteous Spanishleathern coat, and a belt with silver bosses--and a morion that PhilSmallbones saith to be of Milan, but I say it is French. " Stephen had no sooner gathered the import of this intelligence than hesprang down almost as rapidly as his little boy, with his welcome. Nordid Giles Headley return at all in the dilapidated condition that hadbeen predicted. He was stout, comely, and well fleshed, and veryhandsomely clad and equipped in a foreign style, with nothing of thelean wolfish appearance of Sir John Fulford. The two old comradesheartily shook one another by the hand in real gladness at the meeting. Stephen's welcome was crossed by the greeting and inquiry whether allwas well. "Yea. The alderman is hale and hearty, but aged. Your mother is tabledat a religious house at Salisbury. " "I know. I landed at Southampton and have seen her. " "And Dennet, " Stephen added with a short laugh, "she could not wait foryou. " "No, verily. Did I not wot well that she cared not a fico for me? Ihoped when I made off that thou wouldst be the winner, Steve, and I amright glad thou art, man. " "I can but thank thee, Giles, " said Stephen, changing to the familiarsingular pronoun. "I have oft since thought what a foolish figure Ishould have cut had I met thee among the Badgers, after having given legbail because I might not brook seeing thee wedded to her. For I wassore tempted--only thou wast free, and mine indenture held me fast. " "Then it was so! And I did thee a good turn! For I tell thee, Steve, Inever knew how well I liked thee till I was wounded and sick among thosewho heeded neither God nor man! But one word more, Stephen, ere we goin. The Moor's little maiden, is she still unwedded?" "Yea, " was Stephen's answer. "She is still waiting-maid to MistressRoper, daughter to good Sir Thomas More; but alack, Giles, they are insore trouble, as it may be thou hast heard--and my poor brother is likeone distraught. " Ambrose did indeed meet Giles like one in a dream. He probably wouldhave made the same mechanical greeting, if the Emperor or the Pope hadbeen at that moment presented to him; but Dennet, who had been attendingto her father, made up all that was wanting in cordiality. She hadalways had a certain sense of shame for having flouted her cousin, and, as his mother told her, driven him to death and destruction, and it washighly satisfactory to see him safe and sound, and apparentlyrespectable and prosperous. Moreover, grieved as all the family were for the fate of the admirableand excellent More, it was a relief to those less closely connected withhim to attend to something beyond poor Ambrose's sorrow and his talk, the which moreover might be perilous if any outsider listened andreported it to the authorities as disaffection to the King. So Gilestold his story, sitting on the gallery in the cool of the summerevening, and marvelling over and over again how entirely unchanged allwas since his first view of the Dragon court as a proud, sullen, raw ladtwenty summers ago. Since that time he had seen so much that the timeappeared far longer to him than to those who had stayed at home. It seemed that Fulford had from the first fascinated him more than anyof the party guessed, and that each day of the free life of theexpedition, and of contact with the soldiery, made a return to themonotony of the forge, the decorous life of a London citizen, and thebridal with a child, to whom he was indifferent, seem more intolerableto him. Fulford imagining rightly that the knowledge of his intentionsmight deter young Birkenholt from escaping, enjoined strict secrecy oneither lad, not intending them to meet till it should be too late toreturn, and therefore had arranged that Giles should quit the party onthe way to Calais, bringing with him Will Wherry, and the horse he rode. Giles had then, been enrolled among the Badgers. He had little to tellabout his life among them till the battle of Pavia, where he had had thegood fortune to take three French prisoners; but a stray shot from afugitive had broken his leg during the pursuit, and he had been laid upin a merchant's house at Pavia for several months. He evidently lookedback to the time with gratitude, as having wakened his betterassociations, which had been well-nigh stifled during the previous yearsof the wild life of a soldier of fortune. His host's young daughter hadeyes like Aldonza, and the almost forgotten possibility of returning tohis love a brave and distinguished man awoke once more. His burgherthrift began to assert itself again, and he deposited a nest-egg fromthe ransoms of his prisoners in the hands of his host, who gave himbonds by which he could recover the sum from Lombard correspondents inLondon. He was bound by his engagements to join the Badgers again, or he wouldhave gone home on his recovery; and he had shared in the terrible takingof Rome, of which he declared that he could not speak--with asignificant look at Dennet and her children, who were devouring hiswords. He had, however, stood guard over a lady and her young childrenwhom some savage Spaniards were about to murder, and the whole familyhad overpowered him with gratitude, lodged him sumptuously in theirhouse, and shown themselves as grateful to him as if he had given themall the treasure which he had abstained from seizing. The sickness brought on by their savage excesses together with the Romansummer had laid low many of the Badgers. When the Prince of Orange drewoff the army from the miserable city, scarce seven score of that oncegallant troop were in marching order, and Sir John Fulford himself wasdying. He sent for Giles, as less of a demon than most of the troop, and sent a gold medal, the only fragment of spoil remaining to him, tohis daughter Perronel. To Giles himself Fulford bequeathed Abenali'swell-tested sword, and he died in the comfortable belief--so far as hetroubled himself about the matter at all--that there were specialexemptions for soldiers. The Badgers now incorporated themselves with another broken body ofLandsknechts, and fell under the command of a better and moreconscientious captain. Giles, who had been horrified rather thanhardened by the experiences of Rome, was found trustworthy and rose incommand. The troop was sent to take charge of the Pope at Orvieto, andthus it was that he had fallen in with the Englishmen of Gardiner'ssuite, and had been able to send his letter to Ambrose. Since he hadfound the means of rising out of the slough, he had made up his mind tocontinue to serve till he had won some honour, and had obtained enoughto prevent his return as a hungry beggar. His corps became known for discipline and valour. It was trusted often, was in attendance on the Emperor, and was fairly well paid. Giles wastheir "ancient" and had charge of the banner, nor could it be doubtedthat he had flourished. His last adventure had been the expedition toTunis, when 20, 000 Christian captives had been set free from thedungeons and galleys, and so grand a treasure had been shared among thesoldiery that Giles, having completed the term of service for which hewas engaged, decided on returning to England, before, as he said, hegrew any older, to see how matters were going. "For the future, " he said, "it depended on how he found things. " IfAldonza would none of him, he should return to the Emperor's service. If she would go with him, he held such a position that he could providefor her honourably. Or he could settle in England. For he had a goodsum in the hands of Lombard merchants; having made over to them spoilsof war, ransoms, and arrears when he obtained them; and having at timesearned something by exercising his craft, which he said had been mostvaluable to him. Indeed he thought he could show Stephen and Tibble afew fresh arts he had picked up at Milan. Meantime his first desire was to see Aldonza. She was still at Chelseawith her mistress, and Ambrose, to his brother's regret, went thitherevery day, partly because he could not keep away, and partly to try tobe of use to the family. Giles might accompany him, though he stilllooked so absorbed in his trouble that it was doubtful whether he hadreally understood what was passing, or that he was wanted to bring aboutan interview between his companion and Aldonza. The beautiful grounds at Chelsea, in their summer beauty, lookedinexpressibly mournful, deprived of him who had planted and cherishedthe trees and roses. As they passed along in the barge, one spot afteranother recalled More's bright jests or wise words; above all, the veryplace where he had told his son-in-law Roper that he was merry, notbecause he was safe, but because the fight was won, and his consciencehad triumphed against the King he loved and feared. Giles told of the report that the Emperor had said he would have given ahundred of his nobles for one such councillor as More, and the prospectof telling this to the daughters had somewhat cheered Ambrose. Theyfound a guard in the royal livery at the stairs to the river, and at thedoor of the house, but these had been there ever since Sir Thomas'sapprehension. They knew Ambrose Birkenholt, and made no objection tohis passing in and leaving his companion to walk about among the bordersand paths, once so trim, but already missing their master's hand andeye. Very long it seemed to Giles, who was nearly despairing, when a femalefigure in black came out of one of the side doors, which were notguarded, and seemed to be timidly looking for him. Instantly he was ather side. "Not here, " she said, and in silence led the way to a pleached alley outof sight of the windows. There they stood still. It was a strangemeeting of two who had not seen each other for fourteen years, when theone was a tall, ungainly youth, the other well-nigh a child. And nowGiles was a fine, soldierly man in the prime of life, with a short, curled beard, and powerful, alert bearing, and Aldonza, though the firstflower of her youth had gone by, yet, having lived a sheltered and farfrom toilsome life, was a really beautiful woman, gracefullyproportioned, and with the delicate features and clear olive, skin ofthe Andalusian Moor. Her eyes, always her finest feature, were sunkenwith weeping, but their soft beauty could still be seen. Giles threwhimself on his knee and grasped at her hand. "My love!--my only love!" he cried. "Oh! how can I think of such matters now--now, when it is thus with mydear mistress, " said Aldonza, in a mournful voice, as though her tearswere all spent--yet not withholding her hand. "You knew me before you knew her, " said Giles. "See, Aldonza, what Ihave brought back to you. " And he half drew the sword her father had made. She gave a gasp ofdelight, for well she knew every device in the gold inlaying of theblade, and she looked at Giles with eyes full of gratitude. "I knew thou wouldst own me, " said Giles. "I have fought and gone farfrom thee, Aldonza. Canst not spare one word for thine old Giles?" "Ah, Giles--there is one thing which if you will do for my mistress, Iwould be yours from--from my heart of hearts. " "Say it, sweetheart, and it is done. " "You know not. It is perilous, and may be many would quail. Yet it maybe less perilous for you than for one who is better known. " "Peril and I are well acquainted, my heart. " She lowered her voice as her eyes dilated, and she laid her hand on hisarm. "Thou wottest what is on London Bridge gates?" "I saw it, a sorry sight. " "My mistress will not rest till that dear and sacred head, holy as anyblessed relic, be taken down so as not to be the sport of sun and wind, and cruel men gaping beneath. She cannot sleep, she cannot sit or standstill, she cannot even kiss her child for thinking of it. Her mind isset on taking it down, yet she will not peril her husband. Nor verilyknow I how any here could do the deed. " "Ha! I have scaled a wall ere now. I bare our banner at Goletta, withthe battlements full of angry Moors, not far behind the Emperor's. " "You would? And be secret? Then indeed nought would be overmuch foryou. And this very night--" "The sooner the better. " She not only clasped his hand in thanks, but let him raise her face tohis, and take the reward he felt his due. Then she said she mustreturn, but Ambrose would bring him all particulars. Ambrose was asanxious as herself and her mistress that the thing should be done, butwas unfit by all his habits, and his dainty, scholarly niceness, torender such effectual assistance as the soldier could do. Giles offeredto scale the gate by night himself carry off the head, and take it toany place Mrs Roper might appoint, with no assistance save such asAmbrose could afford. Aldonza shuddered a little at this, proving thather heart had gone out to him already, but with this he had to becontented, for she went back into the house, and he saw her no more. Ambrose came back to him, and, with something more like cheerfulnessthan he had yet seen, said, "Thou art happy, Giles. " "More happy than I durst hope--to find her--" "Tush! I meant not that. But to be able to do the work of the holyones of old who gathered the remnants of the martyrs, while I haveindeed the will, but am but a poor craven! It is gone nearer to comfortthat sad-hearted lady than aught else. " It appeared that Mrs Roper would not be satisfied unless she herselfwere present at the undertaking, and this was contrary to the views ofGiles, who thought the further off women were in such a matter thebetter. There was a watch at the outer entrance of London Bridge, thetrainbands taking turns to supply it, but it was known by experiencethat they did not think it necessary to keep awake after belatedtravellers had ceased to come in; and Sir Thomas More's head was setover the opposite gateway, looking inwards at the City. The mostsuitable hour would be between one and two o'clock, when no one would bestirring, and the summer night would be at the shortest. Mrs Roper wasexceedingly anxious to implicate no one, and to prevent her husband andbrother from having any knowledge of an act that William Roper mighthave prohibited, as if she could not absolutely exculpate him, it mightbe fatal to him. She would therefore allow no one to assist saveAmbrose, and a few more devoted old servants, of condition too low foranger to be likely to light upon them. She was to be rowed with muffledoars to the spot, to lie hid in the shadow of the bridge till a signallike the cry of the pee-wit was exchanged from the bridge, then approachthe stairs at the inner angle of the bridge where Giles and Ambrosewould meet her. Giles's experience as a man-at-arms stood him in good stead. Hepurchased a rope as he went home, also some iron ramps. He took asurvey of the arched gateway in the course of the afternoon, andshutting himself into one of the work-sheds with Ambrose, he constructedsuch a rope ladder as was used in scaling fortresses, especially whenseized at night by surprise. He beguiled the work by a long series ofanecdotes of adventures of the kind, of all of which Ambrose heard notone word. The whole court, and especially Giles number three, were verycurious as to their occupation, but nothing was said even to Stephen, for it was better, if Ambrose should be suspected, that he should bewholly ignorant, but he had--they knew not how--gathered somewhat. OnlyAmbrose was, at parting for the night, obliged to ask him for the key ofthe gate. "Brother, " then he said, "what is this work I see? Dost think I can letthee go into a danger I do not partake? I will share in this pious acttowards the man I have ever reverenced. " So at dead of night the three men stole out together, all in theplainest leathern suits. The deed was done in the perfect stillness ofthe sleeping City, and without mishap or mischance. Stephen's stronghand held the ladder securely and aided to fix it to the ramps, and justas the early dawn was touching the summit of Saint Paul's spire with apromise of light, Giles stepped into the boat, and reverently placed hisburden within the opening of a velvet cushion that had been ripped upand deprived of part of the stuffing, so as to conceal it effectually. The brave Margaret Roper, the English Antigone, well knowing that alldepended on her self-control, refrained from aught that might shake it. She only raised her face to Giles and murmured from dry lips, "Sir, Godmust reward you!" And Aldonza, who sat beside her, held out her hand. Ambrose was to go with them to the priest's house, where Mrs Roper wasforced to leave her treasure, since she durst not take it to Chelsea, asthe royal officers were already in possession, and the whole family wereto depart on the ensuing day. Stephen and Giles returned safely toCheapside. CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE. OLD HAUNTS. "O the oak, and the birch, and the bonny holly tree, They flourish best at home in my own countree. " When the absence of the barbarous token of the execution was discovered, suspicion instantly fell on the More family, and Margaret, her husband, and her brother, were all imprisoned. The brave lady took all uponherself, and gave no names of her associates in the deed, and as Henrythe Eighth still sometimes had better moods, all were soon released. But that night had given Ambrose a terrible cough, so that Dennet kepthim in bed two days. Indeed he hardly cared to rise from it. His wholenature, health, spirits, and mind, had been so cruelly strained, and hewas so listless, so weak, so incapable of rousing himself, or turning toany fresh scheme of life, that Stephen decided on fulfilling a long-cherished plan of visiting their native home and seeing their uncle, whohad, as he had contrived to send them word, settled down on a farm whichhe had bought with Perronel's savings, near Romsey. Headley, who waslingering till Aldonza could leave her mistress and decide on any plan, undertook to attend to the business, and little Giles, to his greatdelight, was to accompany them. So the brothers went over the old ground. They slept in the hostel atDogmersfield where the Dragon mark and the badge of the Armourers'Company had first appeared before them. They found the very tree wherethe alderman had been tied, and beneath which Spring lay buried, whilelittle Giles gazed with ecstatic, almost religious veneration, andAmbrose seemed to draw in new life with the fresh air of the heath, nowbecoming rich with crimson bells. They visited Hyde Abbey, and thewell-clothed, well-mounted travellers received a better welcome than hadfallen to the lot of the hungry lads. They were shown the grave of oldRichard Birkenholt in the cloister, and Stephen left a sum to beexpended in masses for his behoof. They looked into Saint Elizabeth'sCollege, but the kind warden was dead, and a trembling old man wholooked at them through the wicket hoped they were not sent from theCommissioners. For the visitation of the lesser religious houses wasgoing on, and Saint Elizabeth's was already doomed. Stephen inquired atthe White Hart for Father Shoveller, and heard that he had grown too oldto perform the office of a bailiff, and had retired to the parent abbey. The brothers therefore renounced their first scheme of taking Silkstedein their way, and made for Romsey. There, under the shadow of themagnificent nunnery, they dined pleasantly by the waterside at the signof Bishop Blaise, patron of the woolcombers of the town, and halted longenough to refresh Ambrose, who was equal to very little fatigue. Itamused Stephen to recollect how mighty a place he had once thought thelittle town. Did mine host know Master Randall? What Master Randall of Baddesley?He should think so! Was not the good man or his good wife here everymarket-day, with a pleasant word for every one! Men said he had hadsome good office about the Court, as steward or the like--for he wasplainly conversant with great men, though he made no boast. If theseguests were kin of his, they were welcome for his sake. So the brothers rode on amid the gorse and heather till they came to abroad-spreading oak tree, sheltering a farmhouse built in frames ofheavy timber, filled up with bricks set in zigzag patterns, with a high-pitched roof and tall chimneys. Barns and stacks were near it, andfields reclaimed from the heath were waving with corn just tinged withthe gold of harvest. Three or four cows, of the tawny hue that lookedso home-like to the brothers, were being released from the stack-yardafter being milked, and conducted to their field by a tall, white-hairedman in a farmer's smock with a little child perched on his shoulder, whogave a loud jubilant cry at the sight of the riders. Stephen, pushingon, began the question whether Master Randall dwelt there, but it brokeoff half way into a cry of recognition on either side, Harry's anabsolute shout. "The lads, the lads! Wife, wife! 'tis our own lads!" And as Perronel, more buxom and rosy than London had ever made her, cameforth from her dairy, and there was a _melee_ of greetings, and Stephenwould have asked what homeless little one the pair had adopted, he wascut short by an exulting laugh. "No more adopted than thy Giles there, Stephen. 'Tis our own boy, Thomas Randall! Yea, and if he have comelate, he is the better loved, though I trow Perronel there will everlook on Ambrose as her eldest son. " "And by my troth, he needs good country diet and air!" cried Perronel. "Thou hast had none to take care of thee, Ambrose. They have let theepine and dwine over thy books. I must take thee in hand. " "'Tis what I brought him to thee for, good aunt, " said Stephen, smiling. Great was the interchange of news over the homely hearty meal. It wasplain that no one could be happier, or more prosperous in a humble way, than the ex-jester and his wife; and if anything could restore Ambroseit would surely be the homely plenty and motherly care he found there. Stephen heard another tale of his half-brother. His wife had soon beendisgusted by the loneliness of the verdurer's lodge, and was alwaysfinding excuses for going to Southampton, where she and her daughter hadboth caught the plague, imported in some Eastern merchandise, and haddied. The only son had turned out wild and wicked, and had been killedin a broil which he had provoked: and John, a broken-down man, with noone to enjoy the wealth he had accumulated, had given up his office asverdurer, and retired to an estate which he had purchased on the skirtsof the Forest. Stephen rode thither to see him, and found him a dying man, tyrannisedover and neglected by his servants, and having often bitterly regrettedhis hardness towards his young brothers. All that Stephen did for himhe received as tokens of pardon, and it was not possible to leave himuntil, after a fortnight's watching, he died in his brother's arms. Hehad made no will, and Ambrose thus inherited a property which made hisfuture maintenance no longer an anxiety to his brother. He himself seemed to care very little for the matter. To be allowed torest under Perronel's care, to read his Erasmus' Testament, and attendmass on Sundays at the little Norman church, seemed all that he wished. Stephen tried to persuade him that he was young enough at thirty-five tomarry and begin life again on the fair woodland river-bordered estatethat was his portion, but he shook his head. "No, Stephen, my work isover. I could only help my dear master, and that is at an end. DeanColet is gone, Sir Thomas is gone, what more have I to do here? Oldties are broken, old bonds severed. Crime and corruption were protestedagainst in vain; and, now that judgment is beginning at the house ofGod, I am thankful that I am not like to live to see it. " Perronel scolded and exhorted him, and told him he would be strongerwhen the hot weather was over, but Ambrose only smiled, and Stephen sawa change in him, even in this fortnight, which justified hisforebodings. Stephen and his uncle found a trustworthy bailiff to manage the estate, and Ambrose remained in the house where he could now be no burthen. Stephen was obliged to leave him and take home young Giles, who had, hefound, become so completely a country lad, enjoying everything to theutmost, that he already declared that he would much rather be a yeomanand forester than an armourer, and that he did not want to beapprenticed to that black forge. This again made Ambrose smile with pleasure as he thought of the boy askeeping up the name of Birkenholt in the Forest. The one wish heexpressed was that Stephen would send down Tibble Steelman to be withhim. For in truth they both felt that in London Tib might at any timebe laid hands on, and suffer at Smithfield for his opinions. The hopeof being a comfort to Ambrose was perhaps the only idea that could havecounterbalanced the sense that he ought not to fly from martyrdom; andas it proved, the invitation came only just in time. Three days afterTibble had been despatched by the Southampton carrier in charge of allthe comforts Dennet could put together, Bishop Stokesley's grim"soumpnour" came to summon him to the Bishop's court, and there could belittle question that he would have courted the faggot and stake. But ashe was gone out of reach, no further inquiries were made after him. Dennet had told her husband that she had been amazed to find how, inspite of a very warm affection for her, her husband, and children, herfather hankered after the old name, and grieved that he could not fulfilhis old engagement to his cousin Robert. Giles Headley had managed thebusiness excellently during Stephen's absence, had shown himself verycapable, and gained good opinions from all. Rubbing about in the worldhad been very good for him; and she verily believed that nothing wouldmake her father so happy as for them to offer to share the business withGiles. She would on her part make Aldonza welcome, and had no fears ofnot agreeing with her. Besides--if little Giles were indeed to be heirto Testside was not the way made clear? So thus it was. The alderman was very happy in the arrangement, andGiles Headley had not forfeited his rights to be a freeman of London ora member of the Armourers' Guild. He married Aldonza at Michaelmas, andall went well and peacefully in the household. Dennet never quitted herfather while he lived; but Stephen struggled through winter roads andfloods, and reached Baddesley in time to watch his brother depart inpeace, his sorrow and indignation for his master healed by the sense ofhis martyrdom, and his trust firm and joyful. "If this be, as it is, dying of grief, " said Hal Randall, "surely it is a blessed way to die!" A few winters later Stephen and Dennet left Giles Headley in solepossession of the Dragon, with their second son as an apprentice, whilethey themselves took up the old forest life as Master and MistressBirkenholt of Testside, where they lived and died honoured and loved. THE END.