The Armourer's Prentices

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

  SWORD OR SMITHY.

  "Darest thou be so valiant as to play the coward with thy indenture, and to show it a fair pair of heels and run from it!"

  _Shakespeare_.

  Tidings came forth on the parting from the French King that the EnglishCourt was about to move to Gravelines to pay a visit to the Emperor andhis aunt, the Duchess of Savoy. As it was hoped that jousts might makepart of the entertainment, the attendance of the Dragon party wasrequired. Giles was unfeignedly delighted at this extension of holiday,Stephen felt that it deferred the day--would it be of strange joy orpain?--of standing face to face with Dennet; and even Kit had come totolerate foreign parts more with Sir John Fulford to show him the way tothe best Flemish ale!

  The knight took upon himself the conduct of the Dragons. He understoodhow to lead them by routes where all provisions and ale had not beenconsumed; and he knew how to swagger and threaten so as to obtain thebest of liquor and provisions at each _kermesse_--at least so he said,though it might be doubted whether the Flemings might not have been morewilling to yield up their stores to Kit's open, honest face and freehand.

  However, Fulford seemed to consider himself one with the party; and hebeguiled the way by tales of the doings of the Badgers in Italy andSavoy, which were listened to with avidity by the lads, distractingStephen from the pain at his heart, and filling both with excitement.They were to have the honour of seeing the Badgers at Gravelines, wherethey were encamped outside the city to serve as a guard to the greatinclosure that was being made of canvas stretched on the masts of shipsto mark out the space for a great banquet and dance.

  The weather broke however just as Henry, his wife and his sister,entered Gravelines; it rained pertinaciously, a tempestuous wind blewdown the erection, and as there was no time to set it up again, thesports necessarily took place in the castle and town hall. There was nooccasion for the exercise of the armourer's craft, and as Charles hadforbidden the concourse of all save invited guests, everything wascomparatively quiet and dull, though the entertainment was on the mostliberal scale. Lodgings were provided in the city at the Emperor'sexpense, and wherever an Englishman was quartered each night, theimperial officers brought a cast of fine manchet bread, two great silverpots with wine, a pound of sugar, white and yellow candles, and a torch.As Randall said, "Charles gave solid pudding where Francis gave emptypraise!"

  Smallbones and the two youths had very little to do, save to consumethese provisions and accept the hospitality freely offered to them atthe camp of the Badgers, where Smallbones and the Ancient of the troopsat fraternising over big flagons of Flemish ale, which did not visiblyintoxicate the honest smith, but kept him in the dull and drowsy state,which was his idea of the _dolce far niente_ of a holiday. Meanwhilethe two youths were made much of by the warriors, Stephen's dexteritywith the bow and back-sword were shown off and lauded, Giles's strengthwas praised, and all manner of new feats were taught them, all manner ofstories told them; and the shrinking of well-trained young citizens fromthese lawless men, "full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,"and some very truculent-looking, had given way to judicious flattery,and to the attractions of adventure and of a free life, where wealth andhonour awaited the bold.

  Stephen was told that the gentleman in him was visible, that he ought todisdain the flat cap and blue gown, that here was his opportunity, andthat among the Badgers he would soon be so rich, as to wonder that hehad ever tolerated the greasy mechanical life of a base burgher.Respect to his oaths to his master--Sir John laughed the scruple toscorn; nay, if he were so tender, he could buy his absolution the firsttime he had his pouch full of gold.

  "What shall I do?" was the cry of Stephen's heart. "My honour and myoath. They bind me. _She_ would weep. My master would deem meungrateful, Ambrose break his heart. And yet who knows but I should doworse if I stayed, I shall break my own heart if I do. I shall notsee--I may forget. No, no, never I but at least I shall never know themoment when the lubber takes the jewel he knows not how to prize!Marches--sieges--there shall I quell this wild beating! I may diethere. At least they will allay this present frenzy of my blood."

  And he listened when Fulford and Will Marden, a young English man-at-arms with whom he had made friends, concerted how he should meet them atan inn--the sign of the Seven Stars--in Gravelines, and there exchangehis prentice's garb for the buff coat and corslet of a Badger, with theAustrian black and yellow scarf. He listened, but he had not promised.The sense of duty to his master, the honour to his word, always recurredlike "first thoughts," though the longing to escape, the restlessness ofhopeless love, the youthful eagerness for adventure and freedom, sweptit aside again and again.

  He had not seen his uncle since the evening of the comedy, for Hal hadtravelled in the Cardinal's suite, and the amusements being all withindoors, jesters were much in request, as indeed Charles the Fifth wascurious in fools, and generally had at least three in attendance.Stephen, moreover, always shrank from his uncle when actingprofessionally. He had learnt to love and esteem the _man_ during histroubles, but this only rendered the sight of his buffoonery moredistressing, and as Randall had not provided himself with his home suit,they were the more cut off from one another. Thus there was all theless to counteract or show the fallacy of Fulford's recruitingblandishments.

  The day had come on the evening of which Stephen was to meet Fulford andMarden at the Seven Stars and give them his final answer, in time toallow of their smuggling him out of the city, and sending him away intothe country, since Smallbones would certainly suspect him to be in thecamp, and as he was still an apprentice, it was possible, though notprobable, that the town magistrates might be incited to make search oninquiry, as they were very jealous of the luring away of theirapprentices by the Free Companies, and moreover his uncle might move theCardinal and the King to cause measures to be taken for his recovery.

  Ill at ease, Stephen wandered away from the hostel where Smallbones wasentertaining his friend, the Ancient. He had not gone far down thestreet when a familiar figure met his eye, no other than that of LucasHansen, his brother's old master, walking along with a pack on his back.Grown as Stephen was, the old man's recognition was as rapid as hisown, and there was a clasp of the hand, an exchange of greeting, whileLucas eagerly asked after his dear pupil, Ambrose.

  "Come in hither, and we can speak more at ease," said Lucas, leading theway up the common staircase of a tall house, whose upper storiesoverhung the street. Up and up, Lucas led the way to a room in the highpeaked roof, looking out at the back. Here Stephen recognised a press,but it was not at work, only a young friar was sitting there engaged insewing up sheets so as to form a pamphlet. Lucas spoke to him inFlemish to explain his own return with the English prentice.

  "Dost thou dwell here, sir?" asked Stephen. "I thought Rotterdam wasthine home."

  "Yea," said Lucas, "so it be, but I am sojourning here to aid in bearingabout the seed of the Gospel, for which I walk through these lands ofours. But tell me of thy brother, and of the little Moorish maiden?"

  Stephen replied with an account of both Ambrose and Aldonza, andlikewise of Tibble Steelman, explaining how ill the last had been in thewinter, and that therefore he could not be with the party.

  "I would I had a token to send him," said Lucas; "but I have nought herethat is not either in the Dutch or the French, and neither of thosetongues doth he understand. But thy brother, the good Ambrose, can readthe Dutch. Wilt thou carry him from me this fresh tractate, showing howmany there be that make light of the Apostle Paul's words not to do evilthat good may come?"

  Stephen had been hearing rather listlessly, thinking how little the goodman suspected how doubtful it was that he should bear messages toAmbrose. Now, on that sore spot in his conscience, that sentence dartedlike an arrow, the shaft finding "mark the archer little meant," andwith a start, not lost on Lucas, he exclaimed, "Saith the holy SaintPaul that?"

  "Assuredly, my son. Brother Cornelis
, who is one whose eyes have beenopened, can show you the very words, if thou hast any Latin."

  Perhaps to gain time, Stephen assented, and the young friar, with asomewhat inquisitive look, presently brought him the sentence, "_Et nonfaciamus mala ut veniant bona_."

  Stephen's Latin was not very fresh, and he hardly comprehended thewords, but he stood gazing with a frown of distress on his brow, whichmade Lucas say, "My son, thou art sorely bestead. Is there aught inwhich a plain old man can help thee, for thy brother's sake? Speakfreely. Brother Cornelis knows not a word of English. Dost thou oweaught to any man?"

  "Nay, nay--not that," said Stephen, drawn in his trouble and perplexityto open his heart to this incongruous confidant, "but, sir, sir, whichbe the worst to break my pledge to my master, or to run into a trialwhich--which will last from day to day, and may be too much for me--yea,and for another--at last?"

  The colour, the trembling of limb, the passion of voice, revealed enoughto Lucas to make him say, in the voice of one who, dried up as he was,had once proved the trial, "'Tis love, thou wouldst say?"

  "Ay, sir," said Stephen, turning away, but in another moment burstingforth, "I love my master's daughter, and she is to wed her cousin, whotakes her as her father's chattel! I wist not why the world had growndark to me till I saw a comedy at Ardres, where, as in a mirror, 'twasall set forth--yea, and how love was too strong for him and for her, andhow shame and death came thereof."

  "Those players are good for nought but to wake the passions!" mutteredLucas.

  "Nay, methought they warned me," said Stephen. "For, sir,"--he hid hisburning face in his hands as he leant on the back of a chair--"I wotthat she has ever liked me better, far better than him. And scarce anight have I closed an eye without dreaming it all, and finding myselfbringing evil on her, till I deemed 'twere better I never saw her more,and left her to think of me as a forsworn runagate rather than see herwedded only to be flouted--and maybe--do worse."

  "Poor lad!" said Lucas; "and what wouldst thou do?"

  "I have not pledged myself--but I said I would consider of--serviceamong Fulford's troop," faltered Stephen.

  "Among those ruffians--godless, lawless men!" exclaimed Lucas.

  "Yea, I know what you would say," returned Stephen, "but they are bravemen, better than you deem, sir."

  "Were they angels or saints," said Lucas, rallying his forces, "thouhast no right to join, them. Thine oath fetters thee. Thou hast noright to break it and do a sure and certain evil to avoid one that maynever befall! How knowst thou how it may be? Nay, if the trial seem tothee over great, thine apprenticeship will soon be at an end."

  "Not for two years."

  "Or thy master, if thou spakest the whole truth, would transfer thineindentures. He is a good man, and if it be as thou sayest, would notsee his child tried too sorely. God will make a way for the tempted toescape. They need not take the devil's way."

  "Sir," said Stephen, lifting up his head, "I thank you. This was what Ineeded. I will tell Sir John Fulford that I ought never to have heededhim."

  "Must thou see him again?"

  "I must. I am to give him his answer at the Seven Stars. But fear notme, Master Lucas, he shall not lead me away." And Stephen took agrateful leave of the little Dutchman, and charged himself with moremessages for Ambrose and Tibble than his overburdened spirit was likelyto retain.

  Lucas went down the stairs with him, and as a sudden thought said at thefoot of them, "'Tis at the Seven Stars thou meetest this knight. Takean old man's counsel. Taste no liquor there."

  "I am no ale bibber," said Stephen.

  "Nay, I deemed thee none--but heed my words--captains of landsknechts in_kermesses_ are scarce to be trusted. Taste not."

  Stephen gave a sort of laugh at the precaution, and shook himself loose.It was still an hour to the time of meeting, and the Ave-bell wasringing. A church door stood open, and for the first time since he hadbeen at Gravelines he felt that there would be the calm he needed toadjust the conflict of his spirits, and comprehend the new situation, orrather the recurrence to the old one. He seemed to have recovered hisformer self, and to be able to perceive that things might go on asbefore, and his heart really leapt at finding he might return to thesight of Dennet and Ambrose and all he loved.

  His wishes were really that way; and Fulford's allurements had becomevery shadowy when he made his way to the Seven Stars, whose vine-coveredwindow allowed many loud voices and fumes of beer and wine to escapeinto the summer evening air.

  The room was perhaps cleaner than an English one would have been, but itwas reeking with heat and odours, and the forest-bred youth wasunwilling to enter, but Fulford and two or three Badgers greeted himnoisily and called on him to partake of the supper they had readyprepared.

  "No, sir knight, I thank you," said Stephen. "I am bound for myquarters, I came but to thank you for your goodness to me, and to bidyou farewell."

  "And how as to thy pledge to join us, young man?" demanded Fulfordsternly.

  "I gave no pledge," said Stephen. "I said I would consider of it."

  "Faint-hearted! ha! ha!" and the English Badgers translated the word tothe Germans, and set them shouting with derision.

  "I am not faint-hearted," said Stephen; "but I will not break mine oathto my master."

  "And thine oath to me? Ha!" said Fulford.

  "I sware you no oath, I gave you no word," said Stephen.

  "Ha! Thou darest give me the lie, base prentice. Take that!"

  And therewith he struck Stephen a crushing blow on the head, whichfelled him to the ground. The host and all the company, used to pot-house quarrels, and perhaps playing into his hands, took little heed;Stephen was dragged insensible into another room, and there the Badgersbegan hastily to divest him of his prentice's gown, and draw his armsinto a buff coat.

  Fulford had really been struck with his bravery, and knew besides thathis skill in the armourer's craft would be valuable, so that it had beendetermined beforehand that he should--by fair means or foul--leave theSeven Stars a Badger.

  "By all the powers of hell, you have struck too hard, sir. He is sped,"said Marden anxiously.

  "Ass! tut!" said Fulford. "Only enough to daze him till he be safe inour quarters--and for that the sooner the better. Here, call Anton totake his heels. We'll get him forth now as a fellow of our own."

  "Hark! What's that?"

  "Gentlemen," said the host hurrying in, "here be some of the gentlemenof the English Cardinal, calling for a nephew of one of them, who theysay is in this house."

  With an imprecation, Fulford denied all connection with gentlemen of theCardinal; but there was evidently an invasion, and in another moment,several powerful-looking men in the crimson and black velvet of Wolsey'strain had forced their way into the chamber, and the foremost, seeingStephen's condition at a glance, exclaimed loudly, "Thou villain!traitor! kidnapper! This is thy work."

  "Ha! ha!" shouted Fulford, "whom have we here? The Cardinal's fool amasquing! Treat us to a caper, quipsome sir?"

  "I'm more like to treat you to the gyves," returned Randall. "Away withyou! The watch are at hand. Were it not for my wife's sake, theyshould bear you off to the city jail; the Emperor should know how youfill your ranks."

  It was quite true. The city-guard were entering at the street door, andthe host hurried Fulford and his men, swearing and raging, out at a backdoor provided for such emergencies. Stephen was beginning to recover bythis time. His uncle knelt down, took his head on his shoulder, andLucas washed off the blood and administered a drop of wine. His firstwords were:

  "Was it Giles? Where is she?"

  "Still going over the play!" thought Lucas. "Nay, nay, lad. 'Twas oneof the soldiers who played thee this scurvy trick! All's well now.Thou wilt soon be able to quit this place."

  "I remember now," said Stephen, "Sir John said I gave him the lie when Isaid I had given no pledge. But I had not!"

  "Thou hast been a brave fellow, and better br
oken head than brokentroth," said his uncle.

  "But how came you here," asked Stephen, "in the nick of time?"

  It was explained that Lucas, not doubting Stephen's resolution, butquite aware of the tricks of landsknecht captains with promisingrecruits in view, had gone first in search of Smallbones, but had foundhim and the Ancient so deeply engaged in potations from the liberalsupply of the Emperor to all English guests, that there was no gettinghim apart, and he was too much muddled to comprehend if he could havebeen spoken with.

  Lucas then, in desperation, betook himself to the convent where Wolseywas magnificently lodged. Ill May Day had made him, as well as others,well acquainted with the relationship between Stephen and Randall,though he was not aware of the further connection with Fulford. Hehoped, even if unable to see Randall, to obtain help on behalf of anEnglish lad in danger, and happily he arrived at a moment when Stateaffairs were going on, and Randall was refreshing himself by a stroll inthe cloister. When Lucas had made him understand the situation, hisdismay was only equalled by his promptitude. He easily obtained theloan of one of the splendid suits of scarlet and crimson, guarded withblack velvet a hand broad, which were worn by the Cardinal's secularattendants--for he was well known by this time in the household to bevery far from an absolute fool, and indeed had done many a good turn tohis comrades. Several of the gentlemen, indignant at the threatenedoutrage on a young Englishman, and esteeming the craftsmen of theDragon, volunteered to accompany him, and others warned the watch.

  There was some difficulty still, for the burgher guards, coming uppuffing and blowing, wanted to carry off the victim and keep him in wardto give evidence against the mercenaries, whom they regarded as a sortof wolves, so that even the Emperor never durst quarter them within oneof the cities. The drawn swords of Randall's friends however settledthat matter, and Stephen, though still dizzy, was able to walk. Thusleaning on his uncle, he was escorted back to the hostel.

  "The villain!" the jester said on the way, "I mistrusted him, but Inever thought he would have abused our kindred in this fashion. I wouldfain have come down to look after thee, nevvy, but these kings andqueens are troublesome folk. The Emperor--he is a pale, shame-faced,solemn lad. Maybe he museth, but he had scarce a word to say forhimself. Our Hal tried clapping on the shoulder, calling him fair coz,and the like, in his hearty fashion. Behold, what doth he but turnround with such a look about the long lip of him as my Lord ofBuckingham might have if his scullion made free with him. His aunt, theDuchess of Savoy, is a merry dame, and a wise! She and our King cantalk by the ell, but as for the Emperor, he speaketh to none willinglysave Queen Katharine, who is of his own stiff Spanish humour, and hehath eyes for none save Queen Mary, who would have been his empress hadhigh folk held to their word. And with so tongue--tied a host, and therain without, what had the poor things to do by way of disportingthemselves with but a show of fools. I've had to go through every trickand quip I learnt when I was with old Nat Fire-eater. And I'm stifferin the joints and weightier in the heft than I was in those days when Islept in the fields, and fasted more than ever Holy Church meant; But,heigh ho! I ought to be supple enough after the practice of these threedays. Moreover, if it could loose a fool's tongue to have a king andqueen for interpreters, I had them--for there were our Harry and Mollcatching at every gibe as fast as my brain could hatch it, and renderingit into French as best thy might, carping and quibbling the whileunderhand at one another's renderings, and the Emperor sitting by in hisblack velvet, smiling about as much as a felon at the hangman's jests.All his poor fools moreover, and the King's own, ready to gnaw theirbaubles for envy! That was the only sport I had! I'm wearier than ifI'd been plying Smallbones' biggest hammer. The worst of it is that myLord Cardinal is to stay behind and go on to Bruges as ambassador, and Iwith him, so thou must bear my greetings to thy naunt, and tell her I'mkeeping from picking up a word of French or Flemish lest this sameCharles should take a fancy to me and ask me of my master, who wouldgive away his own head to get the Pope's fool's cap."

  "_Wer da? Qui va la_?" asked a voice, and the summer twilight revealedtwo figures with cloaks held high and drooping Spanish hats; one ofwhom, a slender, youthful figure, so far as could be seen under hiscloak, made inquiries, first in Flemish, then in French, as to whatailed the youth. Lucas replied in the former tongue, and one of theEnglishmen could speak French. The gentleman seemed much concerned,asked if the watch had been at hand, and desired Lucas to assure theyoung Englishman that the Emperor would be much distressed at thetidings, asked where he was lodged, and passed on.

  "Ah ha!" muttered the jester, "if my ears deceive me now, I'll nevertrust them again! Mynheer Charles knows a few more tricks than he isfain to show off in royal company. Come on, Stevie! I'll see thee tothy bed. Old Kit is too far gone to ask after thee. In sooth, I trowthat my sweet father-in-law set his Ancient to nail him to the wine pot.And Master Giles I saw last with some of the grooms. I said nought tohim, for I trow thou wouldst not have him know thy plight! I'll be withthee in the morning ere thou partest, if kings, queens, and cardinalsroar themselves hoarse for the Quipsome."

  With this promise Hal Randall bestowed his still dulled and half-stunnednephew carefully on the pallet provided by the care of the purveyors.Stephen slept dreamily at first, then soundly, and woke at the sound ofthe bells of Gravelines to the sense that a great crisis in his life wasover, a strange wild dream of evil dispelled, and that he was to go hometo see, hear, and act as he could, with a heartache indeed, but with theresolve to do his best as a true and honest man.

  Smallbones was already afoot--for the start for Calais was to be made onthat very day. The smith was fully himself again, and was bawling forhis subordinates, who had followed his example in indulging in the goodcheer, and did not carry it off so easily. Giles, rather silent andsurly, was out of bed, shouting answers to Smallbones, and calling onStephen to truss his points. He was in a mood not easy to understand,he would hardly speak, and never noticed the marks of the fray onStephen's temple--only half hidden by the dark curly hair. This was ofcourse a relief, but Stephen could not help suspecting that he had beenlast night engaged in some revel about which he desired no inquiries.

  Randall came just as the operation was completed. He was in a good dealof haste, having to restore the groom's dress he wore by the time theowner had finished the morning toilet of the Lord Cardinal's palfreys.He could not wait to inquire how Stephen had contrived to fall into thehands of Fulford, his chief business being to put under safe charge abag of coins, the largesse from the various princes and nobles whom hehad diverted--ducats, crowns, dollars, and angels all jinglingtogether--to be bestowed wherever Perronel kept her store, a matterwhich Hal was content not to know, though the pair cherished a hope someday to retire on it from fooling.

  "Thou art a good lad, Steve," said Hal. "I'm right glad thou leavestthis father of mine behind thee. I would not see thee such as he--no,not for all the gold we saw on the Frenchmen's backs."

  This was the jester's farewell, but it was some time before the waggonwas under way, for the carter and one of the smiths were missing, andwere only at noon found in an alehouse, both very far gone in liquor,and one with a black eye. Kit discoursed on sobriety in the mostedifying manner, as at last he drove heavily along the street, almostthe last in the baggage train of the king and queens--but still in timeto be so included in it so as to save all difficulty at the gates. Itwas, however, very late in the evening when they reached Calais, so thatdarkness was coming on as they waited their turn at the drawbridge, witha cart full of scullions and pots and pans before them, and a waggon-load of tents behind. The warders in charge of the gateway had ordersto count over all whom they admitted, so that no unauthorised personmight enter that much-valued fortress. When at length the waggon rolledforward into the shadow of the great towered gateway on the outer sideof the moat, the demand was made, who was there? Giles had alwaysinsisted, as leader of the party, on making reply to such questions, an
dSmallbones waited for his answer, but none was forthcoming. ThereforeKit shouted in reply, "Alderman Headley's wain and armourers. TwoJourneymen, one prentice, two smiths, two waggoners."

  "Seven!" rejoined the warder. "One--two--three--four--five. Ha! yourcompany seems to be lacking."

  "Giles must have ridden on," suggested Stephen, while Kit, growlingangrily, called on the lazy fellow, Will Wherry, to wake and showhimself. But the officials were greatly hurried, and as long as nodangerous person got into Calais, it mattered little to them who mightbe left outside, so they hurried on the waggon into the narrow street.

  It was well that it was a summer night, for lodgings there were none.Every hostel was full and all the houses besides. The earlier comersassured Kit that it was of no use to try to go on. The streets up tothe wharf were choked, and he might think himself lucky to have hiswaggon to sleep in. But the horses! And food? However, there was onecomfort--English tongues answered, if it was only with denials.

  Kit's store of travelling money was at a low ebb, and it was nearlyexhausted by the time, at an exorbitant price, he had managed to get alittle hay and water for the horses, and a couple of loaves and a haunchof bacon among the five hungry men. They were quite content to believethat Master Giles had ridden on before and secured better quarters andviands, nor could they much regret the absence of Will Wherry's widemouth.

  Kit called Stephen to council in the morning. His funds would notpermit waiting for the missing ones, if he were to bring home anyreasonable proportion of gain to his master. He believed that MasterHeadley would by no means risk the whole party loitering at Calais, whenit was highly probable that Giles might have joined some of the othertravellers, and embarked by himself.

  After all, Kit's store had to be well-nigh expended before the horses,waggon, and all, could find means to encounter the miseries of thetransit to Dover. Then, glad as he was to be on his native soil, hisspirits sank lower and lower as the waggon creaked on under the hot suntowards London. He had actually brought home only four marks to makeover to his master; and although he could show a considerable scoreagainst the King and various nobles, these debts were not apt to bepromptly discharged, and what was worse, two members of his party andone horse were missing. He little knew how narrow an escape he had hadof losing a third!