angry, though he had been able to control all outwardsigns of wrath. He went up his ladder again, hearing a chuckle oflaughter among the others, and feeling sore and bitter with all theworld.
"As if it were not enough to have given up what I had thought of solong," he muttered, looking round at the corbel on the other side,which, somewhat to his surprise, no one had yet been set upon, "but Imust be flouted at for failing when I have scarce begun, and set to askcounsel from--whom? Roger, maybe, Roger, who could not do his own taskwithout stealing from my wits! Well, I have finely angered theprecentor, and it will be no wonder if it is all stopped, and I am sentoff, though I said naught that was unbecoming, or that I should not beforced to say again. I will tell the master, and he shall judge."
The precentor was indeed very angry, and the first person he met, and towhom he poured out his indignation, was Master William Pontington, thecanon, who had been one of the last to admit the possibility of theprentice being allowed to undertake the carving of a corbel.
"This," said the precentor solemnly, "this comes of the bishop's weak--hem--over-easiness. If he permitted such a thing, it should have beenunder control and direction, instead whereof we have a young jackanapesperched up there, and left to amuse himself as he likes, and tellingme--telling me to my very face--that he is as good as any other!"
It was well-known among the chapter that the precentor never omitted achance of saying a word against the bishop, and the canon smiled.
"The dean thinks as well of the lad as doth the bishop," he said. "Mycounsel is to leave him alone. If he be trusted with a man's work, wemust trust him as to the manner in which he carries it out, and not frethim with constant restrictions. Beshrew me, but were I in his place Ishould feel the same!"
So supported, Hugh was left very fairly at peace to toil at his carving,although even his friends among the chapter felt deep anxiety for theresult, and tried hard to get peeps at what he had already done. ButHugh, having once suffered, was almost as careful as Roger to keep hiswork concealed, and as for Wat, he made a complete watch-dog of himself,staying the last of the workmen, and being one of the earliest toarrive. He cared far more for Hugh's success than for his own, and hewas the only one who had seen the corbel. Somehow or other, however,perhaps from words he let drop, perhaps from glimpses caught of itsprogress, the report went about that it was very beautiful.
Every day Gervase eagerly questioned Hugh as to what progress he hadmade. Once or twice Hugh told him of changes he had made in thedesign--told him with some doubt lest it should displease him that hisapprentice should dream of bettering his work. But Gervase was of ararely generous nature, frankly acknowledging the improvement.
"I would I could get to see it; thou art right, thou art right, Hugh,that change takes off a certain stiffness. Do what thou wilt, I trustthee ungrudgingly, in spite of precentor or any of them. And they willhave to own that we are in the right when they see it finished. Now,art ready for our game at chess?"
Slowly, but surely, the doubts and anxieties as to the lad's work diedaway, and instead of them grew up an impression that when the day camefor its uncovering, something of great merit would be displayed. Theone most affected by all these rumours was Roger. His own wasprogressing well, and he was the more eager not to be outdone; moreover,he had injured Hugh, and this very fact made his jealousy and dislikemore bitter. If, after all, Hugh should surpass him! Roger gnawed hislip, and meditated day and night upon some possible means of preventingsuch a catastrophe. He would have given a great deal to see the carvingand judge for himself, and he made several attempts in this direction,always baffled by Wat's vigilance. One day he got hold of Franklyn, andasked him what he heard of Hugh and his work. Franklyn was anarrow-minded man, but honest, and he answered openly, that from aglimpse he had caught, and from what the master had repeated, he doubtedwhether the lad had ever done anything so good before.
"He hath great power," added Franklyn musingly.
"Ay, to work at another man's design!" said Roger, with a sneer. "Icall that another matter from working one's own."
"Marry amen! and so do I," said a voice, emphatically.
Roger started as if he had been stung. He had not known that Wat wasjust behind, and he knew too well the meaning of the words. But it madehim the more bitter against Hugh.
Through those summer days work went on briskly in the Cathedral. Allwere fired with enthusiasm, partly from the bishop's example, partlyfrom personal longing to distinguish themselves. The choir with itsnoble vaulting was completed, a splendid monument of Bitton'sepiscopate; but the corbels would be a prominent and beautiful featurein the work, and perhaps, with some prevision that his life would not belong, the bishop desired very greatly to see them finished. Hugh workedincessantly; he hoped before the summer was over to have brought hiscarving to an end. Gervase had been out several times, indeed hisrecovery was amazing, but now that matters had gone so far, he said thathe should keep away from the Cathedral until Hugh's corbel was afinished work.
Hugh had been so much absorbed that he had thought little of Roger,although he did not relax any of his precautions as to keeping his workhidden, and Wat and Joan were far more watchful guardians than he dreamtof.
He had a great surprise one Sunday when they came in from St MaryArches, and he saw a big man standing in the doorway, which was stillwreathed with the midsummer greenery, and looked at him at first as ifhe were a stranger. The man, in his turn, stared from one to the otheras if in search of someone; something struck Hugh as familiar, and thenext moment he sprang to his side and seized his hand.
"Master Andrew!" he cried in delight, "where have you come from? Howlong have you been here? Are you well? How is Moll?"
The sailor put his hands on his shoulders, held him at arm's length, andlooked him up and down in amazement, which soon broadened into a laugh.
"I never thought to have found thee grown to this size!" he said; "thouart a man, and a proper one! Where have I come from? From Exmouth, andI would have sailed up in the _Queen Maud_ if your burgesses of Exeterhad not been fools enough to let a woman ruin their river for them withher weir. I have had a wish many a time to know how thou fared, andFriar Luke--we are good friends, what thinkest thou of that? I neverthought to be friends with a grey friar--gives me no peace because Ibring him no tidings. Thy father? Ay, anyone could see it was that waywith him, honest man! And Agrippa?"
There was much to hear and tell. The warden took a great fancy toAndrew and would not listen to his going to a hostelry for the night,and Prothasy was pleased to see her husband interested. But the one whotook most to Andrew, and who in his turn was greatly liked by thesailor, was Wat. Andrew vowed that Wat should have been a sailor, andWat was almost ready to renounce everything in favour of the sea. Wattold him all about Hugh, and his work and his genius, and what greatthings were entrusted to him at the Cathedral, and promised to take himthere the next morning as early as the doors were opened, and Joan,Hugh, and Wat must all go forth after the five o'clock supper, and showhim the castle and St Nicolas' Priory, which he looked at withdisfavour in spite of his friendship with Friar Luke, and thealms-houses of Saint Alexius, which pleased him better. All these, butmore especially the bridge, made him own that Exeter was a very noblecity.
Hugh could not go to the Cathedral as early as the others the nextmorning, because the master wanted some measurements taken, but he wasto follow almost immediately, and there could not have been a proudershowman than Wat. He scarcely let Andrew glance round at the fairbeauty of the building before he was off to fetch Hugh's ladder and toset it up against the pillar. They were, as he intended to be, thefirst there, and the covering might be safely taken off, but he was soprudent that he darted off to watch, calling to Andrew to go up andunwrap the covering for himself. As he stood in the nave, it struck himthat he heard a cry, but he set it down to someone outside, and whensome minutes had passed, and he thought time enough had been given, hehurried back, expecting to find
the sailor full of admiration. Insteadof this he met him coming towards him, looking, as even Wat could notfail to see, rather strangely disturbed. He said at once and roughly--
"Fine traps you set for strangers!"
"How, master?"
"How? In placing a ladder which has been cut through. Nay, I like notsuch jests."
"Cut through!" cried Wat, with such genuine amazement that Andrew lookedkeenly at him.
"Beshrew me, yes! Didst thou not know it? The ladder gave way, and Imight have made a fool of myself on the stones below, but that I havebeen long enough on shipboard to hold on by the very hair of my head. Igave thee a halloo."
"I never thought it was thou, sir. Cut through! Then that is Roger'swork again; he would have done Hugh a mischief, the false