The Armourer's Prentices

  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 heirswi
ll 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.