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 had

begun to understand what awaited them. The fourteen selected had little

hope, and indeed a priest came in early morning to hear the confessions

of Giles Headley and George Bates, the only two who were in Newgate.

George Bates was of the stolid, heavy disposition that seems armed by

outward indifference, or mayhap pride. He knew that his case was

hopeless, and he would not thaw even to the priest. But Giles had been

quite unmanned, and when he found that for the doleful procession to the

Guildhall he was to be coupled with George Bates, instead of either of

his room-fellows, he flung himself on Stephen's neck, sobbing out

messages for his mother, and entreaties that, if Stephen survived, he

would be good to Aldonza. "For you will wed Dennet, and--"

There the jailers roughly ordered him to hold his peace, and dragged him

off to be pinioned to his fellow-sufferer. Stephen was not called till

some minutes later, and had not seen him since. He himself was of

course overshadowed by the awful gloom of apprehension for himself, and

pity for his comrades, and he was grieved at not having seen or heard of

his brother or master, but he had a very present care in Jasper, who was

sickening in the prison atmosphere, and when fastened to his arm, seemed

hardly able to walk. Leashed as they were, Stephen could only help him

by holding the free hand, and when they came to the hall, supporting him

as much as possible, as they stood in the miserable throng during the

conclusion of the formalities, which ended by the horrible sentence of

the traitor being pronounced on the whole two hundred and seventy-eight.

Poor little Jasper woke for an interval from the sense of present

discomfort to hear it. He seemed to stiffen all over with the shock of

horror, and then hung a dead weight on Stephen's arm. It would have

dragged him down, but there was no room to fall, and the wretchedness of

the 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 indictment

for high treason removed the poor lads from their jurisdiction to that

of the Earl Marshal, and thus they could do nothing to save the fourteen

foremost victims. The others were again driven out of the hall to

return to their prisons; the nearest pair of lads doing their best to

help Stephen drag his burthen along in the halt outside, to arrange the

sad processions, one of the guards, of milder mood, cut the cord that

bound the lifeless weight to Stephen, and permitted the child to be laid

on the stones of the court, his collar unbuttoned, and water to be

brought. Jasper was just reviving when the word came to march, but

still he could not stand, and Stephen was therefore permitted the free

use of his arms, in order to carry the poor little fellow. Thirteen

years made a considerable load for seventeen, though Stephen's arms were

exercised 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, while

Stephen 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 for

all the unhappy boys who were being led to their death wherever the

outrages 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 knells

still sounding. How long he did not know, for a beneficent drowsiness

stole over him as he knelt, and he was only awakened, at the same time

as 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 their

faces beamed with joy was all that he could gather, for little Jasper

sprang up with a scream of terror, "Stephen, Stephen, save me! They

will cut out my heart," and clung trembling to his breast, with arms

round his neck.

"Poor child! poor child!" sighed Master Headley. "Would that I brought

him the same tidings as to thee!"

"Is it so?" asked Stephen, reading confirmation as he looked from the

one to the other. Though he was unable to rise under the weight of the

boy, life and light were coming to his eye, while Ambrose clasped his

hand tightly, choked by the swelling of his heart in almost an agony of

joy and thankfulness.

"Yea, my good lad," said the alderman. "Thy good kinsman took my little

wench 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 cannot

yet rejoice till thou art with them. Giles would have come himself, but

he 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 my

good sister! I want nurse! Oh! take me home!" For as he tried to sit

up, he fell back sick and dizzy on the bed.

"Alack! alack!" mourned Master Headley; and the jester, muttering that

it was not the little wench's fault, turned to the window, and burst

into tears. Stephen understood it all, and though he felt a passionate

longing for freedom, he considered in one moment whether there were any

one of his fellow prisoners to whom Jasper could be left, or who would

be of the least comfort to him, but could find no one, and resolved to

cling 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 this

ends?"

"Thou art a good-hearted lad," said the alderman with a hand on his

shoulder. "There is no further danger of life to the prentice lads.

The King hath sent to forbid all further dealing with them, and hath

bidden my little maid to set it about that if their mothers beg them

grace from good Queen Katherine, they shall have it. But this poor

child! He can scarce be left. His brother will take it well of thee if

thou wilt stay with him till some tendance can be had. We can see to

that. Thanks be to Saint George and our good King, this good City is

our own again!"

The alderman turned away, and Ambrose and Stephen exchanged a passionate

embrace, feeling what it was to be still left to one another. The

jester too shook his nephew's hand, saying, "Boy, boy, the blessing of

such as I is scarce worth the having, but I would thy mother could see

thee this day."

Stephen was left with these words and his brother's look to bear him

through a trying time.

For the "Captain of Newgate" was an autocrat, who looked on his captives

as compulsory lodgers, out of whom he was entitled to wring as much as

possible--as indeed he had no other salary, nor means of maintaining his

underlings, a state of things which lasted for two hundred years longer,

until the days of James Oglethorpe and John Howard. Even in the rare

cases of acquittals, the prisoner could not be released till he had paid

his fees, and that Giles Headley should have been borne off from the

scaffold itself in debt to him was an invasion of his privileges, which

did not dispose him to be favourable to any one connected with that

affair; and he liked to show his power and dignity even to an alderman.

He was found sitting in a comfortable tapestried chamber, handsomely

dressed in orange and brown, and with a smooth sleek countenance and the

appearance of a good-natured substantial citizen.

He only half rose from his big carved chair, and touched without

removing his cap, to greet the alderman, as he observed, without the

accustomed prefix of your worship--"So, you are come about your

prentice's fees and dues. By Saint Peter of the Fetters, 'tis an

irksome matter to have such a troop of idle, mischievous, dainty

striplings thrust on one, giving more trouble, and making more call and

outcry than twice as many honest thieves and pickpurses."

"Be assured, sir, they will scarce trouble you longer than they can

help," said Master Headley.

"Yea, the Duke and my Lord Edmund are making brief work of them," quoth

the jailer. "Ha!" with an oath, "what's that? Nought will daunt those

lads till the hangman is at their throats."

For it was a real hurrah that reached his ears. The jester had got all

the boys round him in the court, and was bidding them keep up a good

heart, for their lives were safe, and their mothers would beg them off.

Their shouts did not tend to increase the captain's good humour, and

though he certainly would not have let out Alderman Headley's remaining

apprentice without his fee, he made as great a favour of permission, and

charged as exorbitantly, for a pardoned man to remain within his domains

as if they had been the most costly and delightful hostel in the

kingdom.

Master Hope, who presently arrived, had to pay a high fee for leave to

bring Master Todd, the barber-surgeon, with him to see his brother; but

though he offered a mark a day, (a huge amount at that time), the

captain was obdurate in refusing to allow the patient to be attended by

his own old nurse, declaring that it was contrary to discipline, and,

(what probably affected him much more), one such woman could cause more

trouble than a dozen felons. No doubt it was true, for she would have

insisted on moderate cleanliness and comfort. No other attendant whom

Mr Hope could find would endure the disgrace, the discomfort, and alarm

of a residence in Newgate for Jasper's sake; so that the draper's

gratitude to Stephen Birkenholt, for voluntarily sharing the little

fellow's captivity, was great, and he gave payment to one or two of the

officials to secure the two lads being civilly treated, and that the

provisions sent in reached them duly.

Jasper did not in general seem very ill by day, only heavy, listless and

dull, unable to eat, too giddy to sit up, and unable to help crying like

a babe, if Stephen left him for a moment; but he never fell asleep

without all the horror and dread of the sentence coming over him. Like

all the boys in London, he had gazed at executions with the sort of

curiosity that leads rustic lads to run to see pigs killed, and now the

details came over him in semi-delirium, as acted out on himself, and he

shrieked and struggled in an anguish which was only mitigated by

Stephen's reassurances, caresses, even scoldings. The other youths,

relieved from the apprehension of death, agreed to regard their

detention as a holiday, and not being squeamish, turned the yard into a

playground, and there they certainly made uproar, and played pranks,

enough to justify the preference of the captain for full grown

criminals. But Stephen could not join them, for Jasper would not spare

him for an instant, and he himself, though at first sorely missing

employment and exercise, was growing drowsy and heavy limbed in his

cramped life and the evil atmosphere, even the sick longings for liberty

were gradually passing away from him, so that sometimes he felt as if he

had lived here for ages and known no other life, though no sooner did he

lie down to rest, and shut his eyes, than the trees and green glades of

the New Forest rose before him, with all the hollies shining in the

summer light, or the gorse making a sheet of gold.

The time was not in reality so very long. On the 7th of May, John

Lincoln, the broker, who had incited Canon Beale to preach against the

foreigners, was led forth with several others of the real promoters of

the riot to the centre of Cheapside, where Lincoln was put to death, but

orders were brought to respite the rest; and, at the same time, all the

armed men were withdrawn, the City began to breathe, and the women who

had been kept within doors to go abroad again.

The Recorder of London and several aldermen were to meet the King at his

manor at Greenwich. This was the mothers' opportunity. The civic

dignitaries 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 of

barges, all containing white caps, and black gowns and hoods, for all

were clad in the most correct and humble citizen's costume.

"Never was such a sight," said Jester Randall, who had taken care to

secure 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 landed

and got into order. One would think every prentice lad had got at least

three mothers, and four or five aunts and sisters! I trow, verily, that

half of them came to look on at the other half, and get a sight of

Greenwich and the three queens. However, be that as it might, not one

of them but knew how to open the sluices. Queen Katharine noted well

what was coming, and she and the Queens of Scotland and France sat in

the great chamber with the doors open. And immediately there's a knock

at the door, and so soon as the usher opens it, in they come, three and

three, every good wife of them with her napkin to her eyes, and working

away with her sobs. Then Mistress Todd, the barber-surgeon's wife, she

spoke for all, being thought to have the more courtly tongue, having

been tirewoman to Queen Mary ere she went to France. Verily her husband

must have penned the speech for her--for it began right scholarly, and

flowery, with a likening of themselves to the mothers of Bethlehem,

(lusty innocents theirs, I trow!) but ere long the good woman faltered

and forgot her part, and broke out `Oh! madam, you that are a mother

yourself for the sake of your own sweet babe, give us back our sons.'

And therewith they all fell on their knees, weeping and wringing their

hands, and crying out, `Mercy, mercy! For our Blessed Lady's sake, have

pity on our children!' till the good Queen, with the tears running down

her 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 strive

so to plead for them with the King as to win their freedom. Meantime,

there were the aldermen watching for the King in his chamber of

presence, till forth he came, when all fell on their knees, and the

Recorder spake for them, casting all the blame on the vain and light

persons who had made that enormity. Thereupon what does our Hal but

make himself as stern as though he meant to string them all up in a

line. `Ye ought to wail and be sorry,' said he, `whereas ye say that

substantial persons were not concerned, it appeareth to the contrary.

You did wink at the matter,' quoth he, `and at this time we will grant

you neither favour nor goodwill.' However, none who knew Hal's eye but

could tell that 'twas all very excellent fooling, when he bade them get

to the Cardinal. Therewith, in came the three queens, hand in hand,

with tears in their eyes, so as they might have been the three queens

that bore away King Arthur, and down they went on their knees, and cried

aloud `Dear sir, we who are mothers ourselves, beseech you to set the

hearts 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 wailing

and 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 lock

and key long enough to teach them and their masters to keep better

ward.' And then when the queens came back with the good tidings, such a

storm of blessings was never heard, laughings and cryings, and the like,

for verily some of the women seemed as distraught for joy as ever they

had been for grief and fear. Moreover, Mistress Todd, being instructed

of her husband, led up Mistress Hope to Queen Mary, and told her the

tale of how her husband's little brother, a mere babe, lay sick in

prison--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 tarry

with the poor child, pardoned though he be. Then the good lady wept

again, and `Good woman,' saith she to Mistress Hope, `the King will set

thy brother free anon. His wrath is not with babes, nor with lads like

this other of whom thou speakest.'

"So off was she to the King again, and though he and his master pished

and pshawed, and said if one and another were to be set free privily in

this sort, there would be none to come and beg for mercy as a warning to

all malapert youngsters to keep within bounds, `Nay, verily,' quoth I,

seeing the moment for shooting a fool's bolt among them, `methinks

Master 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' head

towering 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 boy

was carried home in a litter, Stephen had entered the Dragon court

through the gates, as if he were coming home from an errand; though the

moment he was recognised by the little four-year old Smallbones, there

had been a general rush and shout of ecstatic welcome, led by Giles

Headley, who fairly threw himself on Stephen's neck, as they met like

comrades after a desperate battle. Not one was there who did not claim

a grasp of the boy's hand, and who did not pour out welcomes and

greetings; while in the midst, the released captive looked, to say the

truth, very spiritless, faded, dusty, nay dirty. The court seemed

spinning round with him, and the loud welcomes roared in his ears. He

was glad that Dennet took one hand, and Giles the other, declaring that

he must be led to the grandmother instantly.

He muttered something about being in too foul trim to go near her, but

Dennet held him fast, and he was too dizzy to make much resistance. Old

Mrs Headley was better again, though not able to do much but sit by the

fire kept burning to drive away the plague which was always smouldering

in London.

She held out her hands to Stephen, as he knelt down by her. "Take an

old woman's blessing, my good youth," she said. "Right glad am I to see

thee once more. Thou wilt not be the worse for the pains thou hast

spent 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 the

instant he tried to speak, to his dismay and indignation, tears choked

his voice, and he could do nothing but weep, as if, thought he, his

manhood had been left behind in the jail.

"Vex not thyself," said the old dame, as she saw him struggling with his

sobs. "Thou art worn-out--Giles here was not half his own man when he

came out, nor is he yet. Nay, beset him not, children. He should go to

his chamber, change these garments, and rest ere supper-time."

Stephen was fain to obey, only murmuring an inquiry for his brother, to

which his uncle responded that if Ambrose were at home, the tidings

would send him to the Dragon instantly; but he was much with his old

master, who was preparing to leave England, his work here being ruined.

The jester then took leave, accepting conditionally an invitation to

supper. Master Headley, Smallbones, and Tibble now knew who he was, but

the secret was kept from all the rest of the household, lest Stephen

should 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, though

still he felt so weary and depressed that he missed the buoyant joy of

release to which he had been looking forward.

He was sitting on the steps, leaning against the rail, so much tired

that he hoped none of his comrades would notice that he had come out,

when Ambrose hurried into the court, having just heard tidings of his

freedom, 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 or

long for. They had not met for more than a week, for Ambrose's finances

had not availed to fee the turnkeys to give him entrance.

"And what art thou doing, Ambrose?" asked Stephen, rousing a little from

his lethargy. "Methought I heard mine uncle say thine occupation was

gone?"

"Even so," replied Ambrose. "Master Lucas will sail in a week's time to

join his brother at Rotterdam, bearing with him what he hath been able

to save out of the havoc. I wot not if I shall ever see the good man

more."

"I am glad thou dost not go with him," said Stephen, with a hand on his

brother's leather-covered knee.

"I would not put seas between us," returned Ambrose. "Moreover, though

I grieve to lose my good master, who hath been so scurvily entreated

here, yet, Stephen, this trouble and turmoil hath brought me that which

I longed for above all, even to have speech with the Dean of Saint

Paul's."

He then told Stephen how he had brought Dean Colet to administer the

last rites to Abenali, and how that good man had bidden Lucas to take

shelter at the Deanery, in the desolation of his own abode. This had

led to conversation between the Dean and the printer; Lucas, who

distrusted all ecclesiastics, would accept no patronage. He had a

little hoard, buried in the corner of his stall, which would suffice to

carry him to his native home and he wanted no more; but he had spoken of

Ambrose, and the Dean was quite ready to be interested in the youth who

had led him to Abenali.

"He had me to his privy chamber," said Ambrose, "and spake to me as no

man 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 set

them before me--as it were in a mirror."

"Thou wast ever in a harl," said Stephen, drowsily, using the Hampshire

word for whirl or entanglement.

"Yea. On the one side stood all that I had ever believed or learnt

before I came hither of the one true and glorious Mother-Church to whom

the Blessed Lord had committed the keys of His kingdom, through His holy

martyrs and priests to give us the blessed host and lead us in the way

of salvation. And on the other side, I cannot but see the lewd and

sinful and worldly lives of the most part, and hear the lies whereby

they amass wealth and turn men from the spirit of truth and holiness to

delude them into believing that wilful sin can be committed without

harm, and that purchase of a parchment is as good as repentance. That

do I see and hear. And therewith my master Lucas and Dan Tindall, and

those of the new light, declare that all has been false even from the

very outset, and that all the pomp and beauty is but Satan's bait, and

that to believe in Christ alone is all that needs to justify us, casting

all the rest aside. All seemed a mist, and I was swayed hither and

thither till the more I read and thought, the greater was the fog. And

this--I know not whether I told it to yonder good and holy doctor, or

whether he knew it, for his eyes seemed to see into me, and he told me

that he had felt and thought much the same. But on that one great

truth, that faith in the Passion is salvation, is the Church built,

though sinful men have hidden it by their errors and lies as befell

before among the Israelites, whose law, like ours, was divine. Whatever

is entrusted to man, he said, will become stained, soiled, and twisted,

though the power of the Holy Spirit will strive to renew it. And such

an outpouring of cleansing and renewing power is, he saith, abroad in

our day. When he was a young man, this good father, so he said, hoped

great things, and did his best to set forth the truth, both at Oxford

and 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 rather

than to the arguments and deductions of the schoolmen. And for the

abuses of evil priests that have sprung up, my Lord Cardinal sought the

Legatine Commission from our holy father at Rome to deal with them. But

Dr Colet saith that there are other forces at work, and he doubteth

greatly whether this same cleansing can be done without some great and

terrible rending and upheaving, that may even split the Church as it

were asunder--since judgment surely awaiteth such as will not be

reformed. But, quoth he, `our Mother-Church is God's own Church and I

will abide by her to the end, as the means of oneness with my Lord and

Head, and do thou the same, my son, for thou art like to be more sorely

tried than will a frail old elder like me, who would fain say his _Nunc

Dimittis_, if such be the Lord's will, ere the foundations be cast

down.'"

Ambrose had gone on rehearsing all these words with the absorption of

one to whom they were everything, till it occurred to him to wonder that

Stephen had listened to so much with patience and assent, and then,

looking at the position of head and hands, he perceived that his brother

was 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 returning

to the perplexities which Stephen could not enter into. "He deemed that

in this mood of mine, yea, and as matters now be at the universities, I

had best not as yet study there for the priesthood. But he said he

would commend me to a friend whose life would better show me how the new

gives 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 the

poor crazy prentices, and save the foreigners. Dennet and our uncle saw

him pleading for them with the King."

"What! Sir Thomas More?"

"Ay, no other. He needs a clerk for his law matters, and the Dean said

he would speak of me to him. He is to sup at the Deanery to-morrow, and

I am to be in waiting to see him. I shall go with a lighter heart now

that thou art beyond the clutches of the captain of Newgate."

"Speak no more of that!" said Stephen, with a shudder. "Would that I

could 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 quite

incapable of work all the next day, and Mistress Headley began to dread

that he had brought home jail-fever, and insisted on his being inspected

by the barber-surgeon, Todd, who proceeded to bleed the patient, in

order, 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 the

treatment up with better counsel, namely, that the lads should all be

sent 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 of

reach of the sweating sickness which was already in some of the purlieus

of Saint Katharine's Docks, and must be specially dangerous in their

lowered condition.

Master Hope came in just after this counsel had been given. He had a

sister married to the host of a large prosperous inn near Windsor, and

he proposed to send not only Jasper but Stephen thither, feeling how

great a debt of gratitude he owed to the lad. Remembering well the good

young Mistress Streatfield, and knowing that the Antelope was a large

old house of excellent repute, where she often lodged persons of quality

attending on the court or needing country air, Master Headley added

Giles to the party at his own expense, and wished also to send Dennet

for greater security, only neither her grandmother nor Mrs Hope could

leave home.

It ended, however, in Perronel Randall being asked to take charge of the

whole party, including Aldonza. That little damsel had been in a manner

confided to her both by the Dean of Saint Paul's and by Tibble

Steelman--and indeed the motherly woman, after nursing and soothing her

through her first despair at the loss of her father, was already loving

her heartily, and was glad to give her a place in the home which Ambrose

was leaving on being made an attendant on Sir Thomas More.

For the interview at the Deanery was satisfactory. The young man, after

a good supper, enlivened by the sweet singing of some chosen pupils of

Saint 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 deep

expression, yet withal, something both tender and humorous in it.

They made him tell his whole life, and asked many questions about

Abenali, specially about the fragment of Arabic scroll which had been

clutched in his hand even as he lay dying. They much regretted never

having known of his existence till too late. "Jewels lie before the

unheeding!" said More. Then Ambrose was called on to show a specimen of

his own penmanship, and to write from Sir Thomas's dictation in English

and in Latin. The result was that he was engaged to act as one of the

clerks Sir Thomas employed in his occupations alike as lawyer,

statesman, and scholar.

"Methinks I have seen thy face before," said Sir Thomas, looking keenly

at him. "I have beheld those black eyes, though with a different

favour?"

Ambrose blushed deeply. "Sir, it is but honest to tell you that my

mother's brother is jester to my Lord Cardinal."

"Quipsome Hal Merriman! Patch as the King calleth him!" exclaimed Sir

Thomas. "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 few

words, which touched the friends a good deal, and the Dean remembered

that she was in charge of the little Moresco girl. He lost nothing by

dealing thus openly with his new master, who promised to keep his secret

for him, then gave him handsel of his salary, and bade him collect his

possessions, and come to take up his abode in the house of the More

family at Chelsea.

He would still often see his brother in the intervals of attending Sir

Thomas to the courts of law, but the chief present care was to get the

boys into purer air, both to expedite their recovery and to ensure them

against being dragged into the penitential company who were to ask for

their lives on the 22nd of May, consisting of such of the prisoners who

could still stand or go--for jail-fever was making havoc among them, and

some of the better-conditioned had been released by private interest.

The remainder, not more than half of the original two hundred and

seventy-eight, were stripped to their shirts, had halters hung round

their necks, and then, roped together as before, were driven through the

streets to Westminster, where the King sat enthroned. There, looking

utterly miserable, they fell on their knees before him, and received his

pardon for their misdemeanours. They returned to their masters, and so

ended that Ill May day, which was the longer remembered because one

Churchill, a ballad-monger in Saint Paul's Churchyard, indited a poem on

it, wherein he swelled the number of prentices to two thousand, and of

the victims to two hundred. Will Wherry, who escaped from among the

prisoners very forlorn, was recommended by Ambrose to the work of a

carter at the Dragon, which he much preferred to printing.