It was time. Stephen Bassett was all but spent, and Hugh, trying his
best to shield him, was pressed backwards until, to his terror, he found
himself close to the hairy form of the bear. But the instant the
knights appeared the throng opened and fled, except the bear-leaders,
who, hampered by their unwieldy animal, prepared to put the best face
they could on the matter.
For the first few minutes, indeed, there was nothing but trying to quiet
the horses, frightened out of their senses by finding themselves in
close neighbourhood with the bear, and this gave time for Hugh to look,
and to cry out joyfully--
"Father, it is Sir Thomas de Trafford! He will see justice done."
"How now, my masters?" cried the knight, a dark-haired, bright-eyed man
with a red face. "What means this brawling?"
"Your worship," said Dick-o'-the-Hill, wiping his face with the back of
his hand, "these knaves have been taken in the very act of stealing."
"Is that you, Dick Simpkins?" said Sir Thomas, with a laugh. "I might
have guessed that heads could not be broken without your having a hand
in the breaking. But the King will have none of this violence, and the
Master of the Hospital will have thee up for it, neck and crop."
Dick, looking somewhat sheep-faced at this view of his conduct, was yet
going to reply, when his cousin Matthew pushed forward.
"Hearken not to him, your worship," he began; "he is an ignorant though
a well-meaning knave. But I humbly bid your worship take notice that
these men be the culprits who have stolen our property, and, when we
would have reclaimed it, set upon us, and were like to have killed us."
"Killed us forsooth!" muttered Dick, stirred to anger at last.
"--Had your worship not come to our rescue. And as witness, knowing all
the circumstances--none better--I claim, if they are put upon their
trial, to take my place as one of the twelve jurors. It is a case of
flagrant delict."
The culprits, conscious of their guilt, but not understanding the
conversation, stood as pale as death, glancing from one to the other.
"Let us hear in plain words what hath been stolen," said Sir Thomas,
impatiently.
"Please your worship," said Hugh, stepping forward and holding out the
monkey, "it is Agrippa."
"A monkey! Why, thou must be the urchin my little maidens are for ever
chattering about. And Edgar--where is Edgar? Not here? The youngster
is stopping in the fair. And did these fellows steal thy monkey?"
Bassett, who had recovered his breath, put in his word.
"Ay, your worship; when we were away at your lady's, showing her the
carved work of mine she would see. We left the door of John the
sacristan's--where we are lodging--shut, and came back to find it open
and the monkey gone."
"Might he not have escaped?"
"He was too timid unless he had been driven forth. Besides, we have
evidence that the boy, who hath shown much ill-will already in the
matter, was seen to go in at the door with two others. If these men are
questioned I believe they will tell us that they bought the beast from
these boys, and your worship may hold their fault the less."
The knight growled something in his beard which was not flattering to
foreign traders; but his sense of justice led him to take the course
which Bassett suggested, and he put his questions in French to the
Italians, who, watching the faces of those around (of whom a
considerable number had now collected), were in mortal terror of short
shrift. By all the saints in the calendar they vowed that no thought of
stealing had crossed their minds. A boy had brought the monkey; they
could understand no more than that he wanted to sell it, and, as they
were glad of the opportunity, they gave him ten silver pennies for their
bargain.
Matthew was greatly vexed not to understand this defence, in which he
would have been ready enough to pick holes; but Bassett, knowing that,
though true in the main, their story said nothing to explain their
denial of having seen the monkey or of its concealment in the bag, kept
merciful silence. The men, at any rate, had been punished by fright,
and when Sir Thomas de Trafford asked if he demanded that they should be
haled back and given over to the college authorities he shook his head.
"E'en let them go, so we have the monkey," he said.
The knight administered a sharp rating, and bade them tie up their
comrade's broken head and be off; a permission of which they were only
too glad to avail themselves, the bear shuffling after them and causing
a fresh panic among the horses.
"Quiet, Saladin!" said Sir Thomas, irritably. "Master Carver, somebody
must suffer for this, and the boy who stole and sold the beast is the
worst offender. Thou--what is thy name--Hugo? Hugh?--what sayest thou
should be done to him?"
"Your worship," said Hugh, tingling all over with eager thrill of hope,
"your worship, I should like to fight him."
"Trial by combat," said the knight, laughing.
"Nay, nay, he's a false loon, and that were too honourable a punishment.
Here, Dick-o'-the-Hill, thou knowest every knave for miles round, go to
the watch, and bid them take the thievish young varlet to the
whipping-post, and let him remember it. Tell them I will answer for
them to their masters."
"Tell them," Matthew called after him, "that it is a case of flagrant
delict."
"Here, Master Carver," said Sir Thomas, moving his horse a few paces off
and beckoning to Bassett, "that boy of thine is a gallant little urchin,
and my babies have taken a fancy to him. Wilt thou spare him to us? He
shall be well eared for; my lady has but too soft a heart, as I tell
her, for the youngsters of the household."
"I am deeply beholden to your worship," returned Stephen, hastily. "It
sounds ungracious to refuse so good an offer, but I cannot part with him
while I live. You may guess from my face that that will not be for
long."
At the first part of this speech Sir Thomas had frowned heavily, but he
could not be wroth with the end.
"The more reason," he said, "that the boy should have a protector."
"True," Bassett answered. "I have thought much of that. But I hope to
have time yet to place him somewhere where he can follow my craft and
build his own fortunes."
"And you would throw away his advancement for a dream?"
"Is it a dream?" said the carver. "Believe me, your worship, that,
although you may find it hard to believe, we men of art have our
ambitions as strong in us as in the proudest knight of King Edward's
court. Hugh has that in him which I have fostered and cherished, and
which I believe will bear fruit hereafter and bring him, or his art,
fame."
"Small profits, I fear me," said Sir Thomas.
"That is like enough. It may be not even a name. But something will he
have done, as I believe, for the glory of God and the honour of his
art."
"Well," said the knight, half vexed, "I have made thee a fair offer, and
the rest lies with thyself. Where go you after the fair?"
"By Friar Nicholas's advice, gentle sir, as far as to Exeter. He thinks
I may meet with work there and a softer air."
"Since thy father will have nought better, I must find a gift for thee,
boy," said the knight, reining back his horse. He drew a richly-chased
silver whistle from his breast and threw it to the boy. "Take good care
of Agrippa; my little Nell would have broken her heart if she had heard
he was gone. Good day, friend Matthew; good day, Master Carver."
The next moment the little party had clattered away, leaving Hugh with
thanks faltering on his tongue, and Matthew on tip-toe with pride at his
own discernment.
"Never would you have seen your monkey again if I had not collared the
knave," he said. "Now, there is my cousin Dick, an honest fellow as
ever swung a flail, but with no thought beyond what he can do with fists
and staff; no use of his eyes, no putting two and two together. I'll
warrant me by the time he reaches the watch he will have forgotten the
words I put into his mouth; and yet they are the very pith of the
matter. I'll e'en go after him."
He started off, while Bassett and his boy made their way back towards
the church, Hugh ill at ease because, while the pommelling of Peter
seemed a fine thing, his doom to the whipping-post, though no more than
justice, gave him an uneasy feeling. But his father would hear of no
going to beg him off, and, indeed, it would have been bootless. Peter's
offence was one for which whipping might be held a merciful punishment--
"And may save him from turning into a cut-purse later on," added
Bassett.
So Agrippa went back to his rafters and met with no more adventures.
The fair ran its usual busy course; the friar came often to talk with
Stephen Bassett and to give Hugh exercises in reading and writing;
while, more rarely, Eleanor and Anne appeared with Mistress Judith--in
great excitement the last time because the next day they were to set
forth for their home. September was drawing to an end, the weather was
rainy, and Bassett began to make inquiries as to parties who would be
travelling the same road as himself. Dick-o'-the-Hill was certain that
his cousin Mat would find the right people. He had implicit faith in
his sagacity, and came with him in triumph one day to announce success.
It seemed that a mercer, his wife, and son were going back to London and
would be glad of company. And then it came out that Matthew himself was
strongly drawn in the same direction.
"A man," he explained, "is like to have all his wits dulled who sees and
hears none but clodhoppers. I feel at times as if I were no sharper
than Dickon here. Now in London the citizens are well to the front.
There is the Alderman-burgh, with the Law Courts and the King's Bench,
there is the Lord Mayor, there is the King's Palace at Westminster and
the great church of St Paul's; much for a man of understanding to see
and meditate upon, Master Bassett, and I have half a mind--"
"Have a whole one, man," cried the carver, heartily; "and I would Dick
would come too."
"Nay, in London I should be no better than an ass between two bundles of
hay," said honest Dick, shaking his head. "But if Mat goes he will
bring us back a pack of news, and maybe might see the king himself."
It did not take much to give a final push to Matthew's inclination. He
had neither wife nor child, and, as he confided to Bassett, his bag of
marks would bear a little dipping into. He bought a horse--or rather
Dick bought it for him--the carver agreeing to pay him a certain sum for
its partial use during their journey to London, and they set out at
last, leaving the fair shorn of its glory.
Folk were travelling in all directions; but London was the goal of the
greater number, and the little knots of traders with one consent, for
fear of cut-purses, kept well within sight of each other. The road was
not bad, although a course of wet weather might quickly convert it into
a quagmire; and it was easy enough to follow, for one of the king's
precautions against footpads was the clearing away of all brushwood and
undergrowth for a space of two hundred feet on each side of the highway
as well as round the gates of towns. A great deal of talk passed
between the different groups, for fairs were the very centre of news,
foreign and English, political and commercial, with a strong
under-current of local gossip. The Hansards, Easterlings, and Lombards
had brought the latest information about the French claims to Gascony,
as well as much trading information from Bruges, which was then the
great seat of commerce; the English merchants discussed the king's wise
and politic measures to promote the unity of the kingdom, a cause which
Edward had much at heart, as necessary not only for the greatness but
the safety of that England for whose good never king toiled more
unselfishly.
It was all deeply interesting to Stephen Bassett, who had left his own
country many years before, and was amazed at the strides civil liberties
had made since that time. Before this the making and the keeping of
laws had depended upon the fancies of the reigning king, checked or
enlarged as they might be by the barons. It was Edward the First who
called his Commons to assist in the making of these laws, who summoned
burgesses from the principal towns throughout the kingdom, who required
the consent of the people for Acts proposed in Parliament, and enforced
the keeping of these laws so powerfully that his greatest lords could no
more break them with impunity than the meanest churl. He set up a fixed
standard of weights and measures. Up to this time all attempts in this
direction had been failures, and the inconvenience must have been great.
He tried to encourage the growth of towns, freeing them from petty
local restrictions and introducing staples or fixed markets. Under him
taxation became more general and more even. He made a survey of the
country yet more important than that of Domesday. And if that
honourable hold of plighted word was--at any rate until late years--the
proud characteristic of an Englishman, this national virtue, which does
not come by chance any more than does a personal virtue, is owing in no
small degree to the steady and strong example of the great king, who on
his tomb left that bidding to his people--"Pactum serva"--keep covenant.
Hugh, for love of his father, listened as well as he could to the talk;
but he had good play-times as well, for there were many boys and girls
on the road, and, indeed, the mercer with whom they travelled had his
lad of thirteen with him. Agrippa, held by Dame Edith's silken cord,
was an immense object of interest; the mercer's wife made him a new
little coat of scarlet cloth, and, besides the black rye bread which he
shared with his masters, the children were never tired of bringing him
nuts, costard apples, and spice-nuts, so that he fared well. He showed
great affection for Hugh, and was never so happy as when on his
shoulder; tolerating Stephen and detesting Matthew.
The hostels were crowded, and the accommodation of the roughest; but it
was always a matter of rejoicing to have got through the day's journey
without encounter of outlaws. Highway robbery was one of the evils with
which the king had vigorously to contend, and at their last
halting-place the host's wife had such a number of terrible stories at
her fingers' ends as made the more timorous shake in their shoes. She
discoursed volubly as she brought in an excellent supper, which they ate
with knives, forks being as yet a great luxury.
"Alack-a-day, my masters!" she said. "I wot that shameful things have
happened on this very road not so long ago. My lord Abbot from the
neighbouring house, having but one brother with him, was seized and
robbed, and left bound in the ditch. The thief made off with his
palfrey, and that led to his being taken and hung; but the abbot, holy
man! has scarce recovered from the shock."
One story brings another, and Matthew was seldom behindhand when
anything had to be said.
"Things be better, however, than they were ten years ago. Then was a
time of riot. I mind me I had a cousin, living in Boston, when there
came to the gates one night a party of monks wanting room in the
monastery. Fine monks were these, for, when all honest citizens were in
bed, out they slipped, stripped off their gowns, appeared in doublet and
hose of green, and never trust me, my masters, if these merry men did
not take the town so completely by surprise that they sacked and set
fire to it before they left."
"There, see now!" cried the hostess, lifting up her hands; "and they
might do the same by us now, and we sleeping in our beds like babes!"
"I warrant that was what caused the king to ordain that town gates
should be closed between sunset and sunrise, and makes him so strict in
the matter," said a monk who was seated at table, with a good helping of
a fish called cropling on his trencher. "Nay, good mistress, look not
mistrustfully on me. I wear no cassock of green, only that which
belongs to the habit of St Austin, of which I am an unworthy brother."
"There be land pirates and sea pirates," said the little red-faced
mercer, pompously; "both be enemies to an honest man's trade."
"Alack, I know not how any can venture on the seas!" added his wife,
putting her head as much on one side as her stiff gorget would allow.
"There's terrible venturesome folk nowadays," put in the hostess,
pouring out a tankard of ale.
"They do say that ships be going so far as Spain; never will they come
back again, that's certain." Bassett listened, smiling, to these
doleful conjectures; at the same time, hearing more of the dangers of
the highways made him think with some anxiety of the long journey to
Exeter which lay before them. His strength had been tried by that now
going on, and he wished it had been earlier in the year, when the days
had been longer and roads better. But he was naturally hopeful, and,
comforting himself with the thought that on the next day, if all was
well, they would reach London, he listened patiently to much which Hugh
had to tell about his comrades on the road and Agrippa's cleverness
before stretching themselves on the hard pallet which fell to their
share in the common room.