delict."
The culprits, conscious of their guilt, but not understanding theconversation, 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 themonkey, "it is Agrippa."
"A monkey! Why, thou must be the urchin my little maidens are for everchattering about. And Edgar--where is Edgar? Not here? The youngsteris 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 thecarved work of mine she would see. We left the door of John thesacristan's--where we are lodging--shut, and came back to find it openand the monkey gone."
"Might he not have escaped?"
"He was too timid unless he had been driven forth. Besides, we haveevidence that the boy, who hath shown much ill-will already in thematter, was seen to go in at the door with two others. If these men arequestioned I believe they will tell us that they bought the beast fromthese boys, and your worship may hold their fault the less."
The knight growled something in his beard which was not flattering toforeign traders; but his sense of justice led him to take the coursewhich Bassett suggested, and he put his questions in French to theItalians, who, watching the faces of those around (of whom aconsiderable number had now collected), were in mortal terror of shortshrift. By all the saints in the calendar they vowed that no thought ofstealing had crossed their minds. A boy had brought the monkey; theycould understand no more than that he wanted to sell it, and, as theywere glad of the opportunity, they gave him ten silver pennies for theirbargain.
Matthew was greatly vexed not to understand this defence, in which hewould have been ready enough to pick holes; but Bassett, knowing that,though true in the main, their story said nothing to explain theirdenial of having seen the monkey or of its concealment in the bag, keptmerciful silence. The men, at any rate, had been punished by fright,and when Sir Thomas de Trafford asked if he demanded that they should behaled 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 theircomrade's broken head and be off; a permission of which they were onlytoo glad to avail themselves, the bear shuffling after them and causinga fresh panic among the horses.
"Quiet, Saladin!" said Sir Thomas, irritably. "Master Carver, somebodymust suffer for this, and the boy who stole and sold the beast is theworst offender. Thou--what is thy name--Hugo? Hugh?--what sayest thoushould 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 tothe watch, and bid them take the thievish young varlet to thewhipping-post, and let him remember it. Tell them I will answer forthem to their masters."
"Tell them," Matthew called after him, "that it is a case of flagrantdelict."
"Here, Master Carver," said Sir Thomas, moving his horse a few paces offand 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? Heshall be well eared for; my lady has but too soft a heart, as I tellher, for the youngsters of the household."
"I am deeply beholden to your worship," returned Stephen, hastily. "Itsounds ungracious to refuse so good an offer, but I cannot part with himwhile I live. You may guess from my face that that will not be forlong."
At the first part of this speech Sir Thomas had frowned heavily, but hecould 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 tohave time yet to place him somewhere where he can follow my craft andbuild 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 ourambitions as strong in us as in the proudest knight of King Edward'scourt. Hugh has that in him which I have fostered and cherished, andwhich 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 hehave done, as I believe, for the glory of God and the honour of hisart."
"Well," said the knight, half vexed, "I have made thee a fair offer, andthe rest lies with thyself. Where go you after the fair?"
"By Friar Nicholas's advice, gentle sir, as far as to Exeter. He thinksI 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-chasedsilver whistle from his breast and threw it to the boy. "Take good careof Agrippa; my little Nell would have broken her heart if she had heardhe was gone. Good day, friend Matthew; good day, Master Carver."
The next moment the little party had clattered away, leaving Hugh withthanks faltering on his tongue, and Matthew on tip-toe with pride at hisown discernment.
"Never would you have seen your monkey again if I had not collared theknave," he said. "Now, there is my cousin Dick, an honest fellow asever swung a flail, but with no thought beyond what he can do with fistsand staff; no use of his eyes, no putting two and two together. I'llwarrant me by the time he reaches the watch he will have forgotten thewords I put into his mouth; and yet they are the very pith of thematter. I'll e'en go after him."
He started off, while Bassett and his boy made their way back towardsthe church, Hugh ill at ease because, while the pommelling of Peterseemed a fine thing, his doom to the whipping-post, though no more thanjustice, gave him an uneasy feeling. But his father would hear of nogoing to beg him off, and, indeed, it would have been bootless. Peter'soffence was one for which whipping might be held a merciful punishment--
"And may save him from turning into a cut-purse later on," addedBassett.
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 withStephen Bassett and to give Hugh exercises in reading and writing;while, more rarely, Eleanor and Anne appeared with Mistress Judith--ingreat excitement the last time because the next day they were to setforth for their home. September was drawing to an end, the weather wasrainy, and Bassett began to make inquiries as to parties who would betravelling the same road as himself. Dick-o'-the-Hill was certain thathis cousin Mat would find the right people. He had implicit faith inhis 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 andwould be glad of company. And then it came out that Matthew himself wasstrongly drawn in the same direction.
"A man," he explained, "is like to have all his wits dulled who sees andhears none but clodhoppers. I feel at times as if I were no sharperthan 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 andthe great church of St Paul's; much for a man of understanding to seeand meditate upon, Master Bassett, and I have half a mind--"
"Have a whole one, man," cried the carver, heartily; "and I would Dickwould come too."
"Nay, in London I should be no better than an ass between two bundles ofhay," said honest Dick, shaking his head. "But if Mat goes he willbring 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. Hehad neither wife nor child, and, as he c
onfided to Bassett, his bag ofmarks would bear a little dipping into. He bought a horse--or ratherDick bought it for him--the carver agreeing to pay him a certain sum forits partial use during their journey to London, and they set out atlast, leaving the fair shorn of its glory.
Folk were travelling in all directions; but London was the goal of thegreater number, and the little knots of traders with one consent, forfear of cut-purses, kept well within sight of each other. The road wasnot bad, although a course of wet weather might quickly convert it intoa quagmire; and it was easy enough to follow, for one of the king'sprecautions against footpads was the clearing away of all