CHAPTER NINETEEN.
AT THE ANTELOPE.
"Say, Father Thames, for thou hast seen Full many a sprightly race, Disporting on thy margent green, The paths of pleasure trace." Gray.
Master Hope took all the guests by boat to Windsor, and very soon thelittle party at the Antelope was in a state of such perfect felicity asbecame a proverb with them all their lives afterwards. It was an innwherein to take one's ease, a large hostel full of accommodation for manand horse, with a big tapestried room of entertainment below, wheremeals were taken, with an oriel window with a view of the Round Tower,and above it a still more charming one, known as the Red Rose, becauseone of the Dukes of Somerset had been wont to lodge there. The wallswere tapestried with the story of Saint Genoveva of Brabant, fresh andnew on Mrs Streatfield's marriage; there was a huge bed with greencurtains of that dame's own work, where one might have said:--
"Above, below, the rose of snow, Twined with her blushing foe we spread."
so as to avoid all offence. There was also a cupboard or sideboard ofthe choicer plate belonging to the establishment, and another awmrycontaining appliances for chess and backgammon, likewise two largechairs, several stools, and numerous chests.
This apartment was given up to Mistress Randall and the two girls,subject however to the chance of turning out for any very distinguishedguests. The big bed held all three, and the chamber was likewise theirsitting-room, though they took their meals down stairs, and joined theparty in the common room in the evening whenever they were not out ofdoors, unless there were guests whom Perronel did not think desirablecompany for her charges. Stephen and Giles were quartered in a smallroom known as the Feathers, smelling so sweet of lavender and woodruffthat Stephen declared it carried him back to the Forest. MrsStreatfield would have taken Jasper to tend among her children, but theboy could not bear to be without Stephen, and his brother advised her tolet it be so, and not try to make a babe of him again.
The guest-chamber below stairs opened at one end into the innyard, aquadrangle surrounded with stables, outhouses, and offices, with agallery running round to give access to the chambers above, where, whenthe Court was at Windsor, two or three great men's trains of retainersmight be crowded together.
One door, however, in the side of the guest-chamber had steps down to anorchard, full of apple and pear trees in their glory of pink bud andwhite blossom, borders of roses, gillyflowers, and lilies of the valleyrunning along under the grey walls. There was a broad space of grassnear the houses, whence could be seen the Round Tower of the Castlelooking down in protection, while the background of the view was filledup with a mass of the foliage of Windsor forest, in the spring tints.
Stephen never thought of its being beautiful, but he revelled in therefreshment of anything so like home, and he had nothing to wish for buthis brother, and after all he was too contented and happy even to misshim much.
Master Streatfield was an elderly man, fat and easy-going, to whomtalking seemed rather a trouble than otherwise, though he was very good-natured. His wife was a merry, lively, active woman, who had beenhanded over to him by her father like a piece of Flanders cambric, butwho never seemed to regret her position, managed men and maids, farm andguests, kept perfect order without seeming to do so, and made greatfriends with Perronel, never guessing that she had been one of thestrolling company, who, nine or ten years before, had been refusedadmission to the Antelope, then crowded with my Lord of Oxford'sfollowers.
At first, it was enough for the prentices to spend most of their time inlying about on the grass under the trees. Giles, who was in the bestcondition, exerted himself so far as to try to learn chess from Aldonza,who seemed to be a proficient in the game, and even defeated the good-natured burly parson who came every evening to the Antelope, to imbibeslowly a tankard of ale, and hear any news there stirring.
She and Giles were content to spend hours over her instructions in chesson that pleasant balcony in the shade of the house. Though really onlya year older than Dennet Headley, she looked much more, and was so inall her ways. It never occurred to her to run childishly wild withdelight in the garden and orchard as did Dennet, who, with little five-years-old Will Streatfield for her guide and playfellow, rushed abouthither and thither, making acquaintance with hens and chickens, geeseand goslings, seeing cows and goats milked, watching butter churned,bringing all manner of animal and vegetable curiosities to Stephen to benamed and explained, and enjoying his delight in them, a delight whichafter the first few days became more and more vigorous.
By and by there was punting and fishing on the river, strawberrygathering in the park, explorations of the forest, expeditions of allsorts and kinds, Jasper being soon likewise well enough to share inthem. The boys and girls were in a kind of fairy land under Perronel'skind wing, the wandering habits of whose girlhood made the freedom ofthe country far more congenial to her than it would have been to anyregular Londoner.
Stephen was the great oracle, of course, as to the deer respectfullypeeped at in the park, or the squirrels, the hares and rabbits, in theforest, and the inhabitants of the stream above or below. It was he whosecured and tamed the memorials of their visit--two starlings for Dennetand Aldonza. The birds were to be taught to speak, and to do wonders ofall kinds, but Aldonza's bird was found one morning dead, and Gilesconsoled her by the promise of something much bigger, and that wouldtalk much better. Two days after he brought her a young jackdaw.Aldonza clasped her hands and admired its glossy back and queer blueeye, and was in transports when it uttered something between "Jack" and"good lack." But Dennet looked in scorn at it, and said, "That's a birdtamed already. He didn't catch it. He only bought it! I would havenone such! An ugsome great thieving bird!"
"Nay now, Mistress Dennet," argued Perronel. "Thou hast thy bird, andAlice has lost hers. It is not meet to grudge it to her."
"I! Grudge it to her!" said Dennet, with a toss of the head. "I grudgeher nought from Giles Headley, so long as I have my Goldspot thatStephen climbed the wall for, his very self."
And Dennet turned majestically away with her bird--Goldspot only in thefuture--perched on her finger; while Perronel shook her head bodingly.
But they were all children still, and Aldonza was of a nature that wasslow to take offence, while it was quite true that Dennet had been freefrom jealousy of the jackdaw, and only triumphant in Stephen's prowessand her own starling.
The great pleasure of all was a grand stag-hunt, got up for thediversion of the French ambassadors, who had come to treat for theespousals of the infant Princess Mary with the baby "Dolphyne."Probably these illustrious personages did not get half the pleasure outof it that the Antelope party had. Were they not, by special managementof a yeoman pricker who had recognised in Stephen a kindred spirit, andhad a strong admiration for Mistress Randall, placed where there was thebest possible view of hunters, horses, and hounds, lords and ladies,King and ambassadors, in their gorgeous hunting trim? Did not Stephen,as a true verdurer's son, interpret every note on the horn, and predictjust what was going to happen, to the edification of all his hearers?And when the final rush took place, did not the prentices, with theirgowns rolled up, dart off headlong in pursuit? Dennet entertained somehope that Stephen would again catch some runaway steed, or come to theKing's rescue in some way or other, but such chances did not happenevery day. Nay, Stephen did not even follow up the chase to the death,but left Giles to do that, turning back forsooth because that littleJasper thought fit to get tired and out of breath, and could not findhis way back alone. Dennet was quite angry with Stephen and turned herback on him, when Giles came in all glorious, at having followed upstaunchly all day, having seen the fate of the poor stag, and havingeven beheld the King politely hand the knife to Monsieur de Montmorencyto give the first stroke to the quarry!
That was the last exploit. There was to be a great tilting-match inhonour of the betrothal, and Master Alderman Headley wanted hisapprentices back again, and having been satisfied
by a laborious letterfrom Dennet, sent per carrier, that they were in good health, despatchedorders by the same means, that they were to hire horses at the Antelopeand return--Jasper coming back at the same time, though his aunt wouldfain have kept him longer.
Women on a journey almost always rode double, and the arrangement cameunder debate. Perronel, well accustomed to horse, ass, or foot,undertook to ride behind the child, as she called Jasper, who--as a bornLondoner--knew nothing of horses, though both the other prentices did.Giles, who, in right of his name, kindred, and expectations, always heldhimself a sort of master, declared that, "it was more fitting thatStephen should ride before Mistress Dennet." And to this none of theparty made any objection, except that Perronel privately observed to himthat she should have thought he would have preferred the company of hisbetrothed.
"I shall have quite enough of her by and by," returned Giles; thenadding, "She is a good little wench, but it is more for her honour thather father's servant should ride before her."
Perronel held her tongue, and they rode merrily back to London, andastonished their several homes by the growth and healthful looks of theyoung people. Even Giles was grown, though he did not like to be toldso, and was cherishing the down on his chin. But the most rapiddevelopment had been in Aldonza, or Alice, as Perronel insisted oncalling her to suit the ears of her neighbours. The girl was justreaching the borderland of maidenhood, which came all the sooner to oneof southern birth and extraction, when the great change took her frombeing her father's childish darling to be Perronel's companion andassistant. She had lain down on that fatal May Eve a child, she rose inthe little house by the Temple Gardens, a maiden, and a very lovely one,with delicate, refined, beautifully cut features of a slightly aquilinecast, a bloom on her soft brunette cheek, splendid dark liquid eyesshaded by long black lashes, under brows as regular and well arched asher Eastern cousins could have made them artificially, magnificent blackhair, that could hardly be contained in the close white cap, and a lithebeautiful figure on which the plainest dress sat with an Eastern grace.Perronel's neighbours did not admire her. They were not sure whethershe were most Saracen, gipsy, or Jew. In fact, she was as like Rachelat the well as her father had been to a patriarch, and her descent wasof the purest Saracen lineage, but a Christian Saracen was an anomalythe London mind could not comprehend, and her presence in the familytended to cast suspicion that Master Randall himself, with his gipsyeyes, and mysterious comings and goings, must have some strangeconnections. For this, however, Perronel cared little. She had madeher own way for many years past, and had won respect and affection bymany good offices to her neighbours, one of whom had taken her laundrywork in her absence.
Aldonza was by no means indocile or incapable. She shared in Perronel'swork without reluctance, making good use of her slender, dainty brownfingers, whether in cooking, household work, washing, ironing, plaiting,making or mending the stiff lawn collars and cuffs in which herhostess's business lay. There was nothing that she would not do whenasked, or when she saw that it would save trouble to good motherPerronel, of whom she was very fond, and she seemed serene andcontented, never wanting to go abroad; but she was very silent, andPerronel declared herself never to have seen any living woman soperfectly satisfied to do nothing. The good dame herself wasindustrious, not only from thrift but from taste, and if not busy in hervocation or in household business, was either using her distaff or herneedle, or chatting with her neighbours--often doing both at once; butthough Aldonza could spin, sew, and embroider admirably, and would do soat the least request from her hostess, it was always a sort of task, andshe never seemed so happy as when seated on the floor, with her darkeyes dreamily fixed on the narrow window, where hung her jackdaw's cage,and the beads of her rosary passing through her fingers. At firstMistress Randall thought she was praying, but by and by came to theconviction that most of the time, "the wench was bemused." There wasnothing to complain of in one so perfectly gentle and obedient, andwithal, modest and devout; but the good woman, after having for sometime given her the benefit of the supposition that she was grieving forher father, began to wonder at such want of activity and animation, andto think that on the whole Jack was the more talkative companion.
Aldonza had certainly not taught him the phrases he was so fond ofrepeating. Giles Headley had undertaken his education, and made it areason for stealing down to the Temple many an evening after work wasdone, declaring that birds never learnt so well as after dark.Moreover, he had possessed himself of a chess board, and insisted thatAldonza should carry on her instructions in the game; he brought her allhis Holy Cross Day gain of nuts, and he used all his blandishments topersuade Mrs Randall to come and see the shooting at the popinjay, atMile End.
All this made the good woman uneasy. Her husband was away, for thedread of sweating sickness had driven the Court from London, and shecould only take counsel with Tibble Steelman. It was Hallowmas Eve, andGiles had been the bearer of an urgent invitation from Dennet to herfriend Aldonza to come and join the diversions of the evening. Therewas a large number of young folk in the hall--Jasper Hope among them--mostly contemporaries of Dennet, and almost children, all keen upon thesports of the evening, namely, a sort of indoor quintain, where therevolving beam was decorated with a lighted candle at one end, and atthe other an apple to be caught at by the players with their mouths,their hands being tied behind them.
Under all the uproarious merriment that each attempt occasioned, Tibblewas about to steal off to his own chamber and his beloved books, when,as he backed out of the group of spectators, he was arrested by MistressRandall, who had made her way into the rear of the party at the sametime.
"Can I have a word with you, privily, Master Steelman?" she asked.
Unwillingly he muttered, "Yea, so please you;" and they retreated to awindow at the dark end of the hall, where Perronel began--
"The alderman's daughter is contracted to young Giles, her kinsman, isshe not?"
"Not as yet in form, but by the will of the parents," returned Tibble,impatiently, as he thought of the half-hour's reading which he wassacrificing to woman's gossip.
"An it be so," returned Perronel, "I would fain--were I Master Headley--that he spent not so many nights in gazing at mine Alice."
"Forbid him the house, good dame."
"Easier spoken than done," returned Perronel. "Moreover, 'tis better tolet the matter, such as it is, be open in my sight than to teach them torun after one another stealthily, whereby worse might ensue."
"Have they spoken then to one another?" asked Tibble, beginning to takealarm.
"I trow not. I deem they know not yet what draweth them together."
"Pish, they are mere babes!" quoth Tib, hoping he might cast it off hismind.
"Look!" said Perronel; and as they stood on the somewhat elevated floorof the bay window, they could look over the heads of the otherspectators to the seats where the young girls sat.
Aldonza's beautiful and peculiar contour of head and face rose among theround chubby English faces like a jessamine among daisies, and at thatmoment she was undertaking, with an exquisite smile, the care of thegown that Giles laid at her feet, ere making his venture.
"There!" said Perronel. "Mark that look on her face! I never see itsave for that same youngster. The children are simple and guilelessthus far, it may be. I dare be sworn that she is, but they wot notwhere they will be led on."
"You are right, dame; you know best, no doubt," said Tib, in helplessperplexity. "I wot nothing of such gear. What would you do?"
"Have the maid wedded at once, ere any harm come of it," returnedPerronel promptly. "She will make a good wife--there will be nocomplaining of her tongue, and she is well instructed in all goodhousewifery."
"To whom then would you give her?" asked Tibble.
"Ay, that's the question. Comely and good she is, but she isoutlandish, and I fear me 'twould take a handsome portion to get herdark skin and Moorish blood o'erlooked. Nor hath she aught, poor ma
id,save yonder gold and pearl earrings, and a cross of gold that she saysher father bade her never part with."
"I pledged my word to her father," said Tibble, "that I would have acare of her. I have not cared to hoard, having none to come after me,but if a matter of twenty or five-and-twenty marks would avail--"
"Wherefore not take her yourself?" said Perronel, as he stood aghast."She is a maid of sweet obedient conditions, trained by a scholar evenlike yourself. She would make your chamber fair and comfortable, andtend you dutifully."
"Whisht, good woman. 'Tis too dark to see, or you could not speak ofwedlock to such as I. Think of the poor maid!"
"That is all folly! She would soon know you for a better husband thanone of those young feather-pates, who have no care but of themselves."
"Nay, mistress," said Tibble, gravely, "your advice will not serve here.To bring that fair young wench hither, to this very court, mind you,with a mate loathly to behold as I be, and with the lad there everbefore her, would be verily to give place to the devil."
"But you are the best sword-cutler in London. You could make a livingwithout service."
"I am bound by too many years of faithful kindness to quit my master ormy home at the Dragon," said Tibble. "Nay, that will not serve, goodfriend."
"Then what can be done?" asked Perronel, somewhat in despair. "Thereare the young sparks at the Temple. One or two of them are alreadybeginning to cast eyes at her, so that I dare not let her help me carryhome my basket, far less go alone. 'Tis not the wench's fault. Sheshrinks from men's eyes more than any maid I ever saw, but if she bidelong with me, I wot not what may come of it. There be rufflers therewho would not stick to carry her off!"
Tibble stood considering, and presently said, "Mayhap the Dean might aidthee in this matter. He is free of hand and kind of heart, and belikehe would dower the maid, and find an honest man to wed her."
Perronel thought well of the suggestion, and decided that after the masson All Soul's Day, and the general visiting of the graves of kindred,she would send Aldonza home with Dennet, whom they were sure to meet inthe Pardon Churchyard, since her mother, as well as Abenali and MartinFulford lay there; and herself endeavour to see Dean Colet, who was sureto be at home, as he was hardly recovered from an attack of theprevalent disorder.
Then Tibble escaped, and Perronel drew near to the party round the fire,where the divination of the burning of nuts was going on, but notsuccessfully, since no pair hitherto put in would keep together.However, the next contribution was a snail, which had been captured onthe wall, and was solemnly set to crawl on the hearth by Dennet, "to seewhether it would trace a G or an H."
However, the creature proved sullen or sleepy, and no jogging of hands,no enticing, would induce it to crawl an inch, and the alderman, takinghis daughter on his knee, declared that it was a wise beast, who knewher hap was fixed. Moreover, it was time for the rere supper, for theserving-men with the lanterns would be coming for the young folk.
London entertainments for women or young people had to finish very earlyunless they had a strong escort to go home with, for the streets werefar from safe after dark. Giles's great desire to convoy her home,added to Perronel's determination, and on All Souls' Day, while knellswere ringing from every church in London, she roused Aldonza from herweeping devotions at her father's grave, and led her to Dennet, who hadjust finished her round of prayers at the grave of the mother she hadnever known, under the protection of her nurse, and two or three of theservants. The child, who had thought little of her mother, while hergrandmother was alert, and supplied the tenderness and care she needed,was beginning to yearn after counsel and sympathy, and to wonder, as shetold her beads, what might have been, had that mother lived. She tookAldonza's hand, and the two girls threaded their way out of the crowdedchurchyard together, while Perronel betook herself to the Deanery ofSaint Paul's.
Good Colet was always accessible to the meanest, but he had been veryill, and the porter had some doubts about troubling him respecting thesubstantial young matron whose trim cap and bodice, and full petticoats,showed no tokens of distress. However, when she begged him to take inher message, that she prayed the Dean to listen to her touching thechild of the old man who was slain on May Eve, he consented; and she wasat once admitted to an inner chamber, where Colet, wrapped in a gownlined with lambskin, sat by the fire, looking so wan and feeble that itwent to the good woman's heart, and she began by an apology fortroubling him.
"Heed not that, good dame," said the Dean, courteously, "but sit theedown and let me hear of the poor child."
"Ah, reverend sir, would that she were still a child--" and Perronelproceeded to tell her difficulties, adding, that if the Dean could ofhis goodness promise one of the dowries which were yearly given to poormaidens of good character, she would inquire among her gossips for someone to marry the girl. She secretly hoped he would take the hint andimmediately portion Aldonza himself perhaps likewise find the husband.And she was disappointed that he only promised to consider the matterand let her hear from him. She went back and told Tibble that hisdevice was nought, an old scholar with one foot in the grave knew lessof women than even he did!
However it was only four days later, that, as Mrs Randall was hangingout her collars to dry, there came up to her from the Temple stairs afigure whom for a moment she hardly knew, so different was the long,black garb, and short gown of the lawyer's clerk from the shabby oldgreen suit that all her endeavours had not been able to save from many astain of printer's ink. It was only as he exclaimed, "Good aunt, I amfain to see thee here!" that she answered, "What, thou, Ambrose! What afine fellow thou art! Truly I knew not thou wast of such good mien!Thou thrivest at Chelsea!"
"Who would not thrive there?" said Ambrose. "Nay, aunt, tarry a little,I have a message for thee that I would fain give before we go in toAldonza."
"From his reverence the Dean? Hath he bethought himself of her?"
"Ay, that hath he done," said Ambrose. "He is not the man to halt whengood may be done. What doth he do, since it seems thou hadst speech ofhim, but send for Sir Thomas More, then sitting at Westminster, to comeand see him as soon as the Court brake up, and I attended my master.They held council together, and by and by they sent for me to ask me ofwhat conditions and breeding the maid was, and what I knew of herfather?"
"Will they wed her to thee? That were rarely good, so they gave theesome good office!" cried his aunt.
"Nay, nay," said Ambrose. "I have much to learn and understand ere Ithink of a wife--if ever. Nay! But when they had heard all I couldtell them, they looked at one another, and the Dean said, `The maid isno doubt of high blood in her own land--scarce a mate for a Londonbutcher or currier.'"
"`It were matching an Arab mare with a costard monger's colt,' said mymaster, `or Angelica with Ralph Roister-Doister.'"
"I'd like to know what were better for the poor outlandish maid than togive her to some honest man," put in Perronel.
"The end of it was," said Ambrose, "that Sir Thomas said he was to be atthe palace the next day, and he would strive to move the Queen to takeher countrywoman into her service. Yea, and so he did, but though QueenKatharine was moved by hearing of a fatherless maid of Spain, and atfirst spake of taking her to wait on herself, yet when she heard themaid's name, and that she was of Moorish blood, she would none of her.She said that heresy lurked in them all, and though Sir Thomas offeredthat the Dean or the Queen's own chaplain should question her on thefaith, it was all lost labour. I heard him tell the Dean as much, andthus it is that they bade me come for thee, and for the maid, take boat,and bring you down to Chelsea, where Sir Thomas will let her be bred upto wait on his little daughters till he can see what best may be donefor her. I trow his spirit was moved by the Queen's hardness! I heardthe Dean mutter, `_Et venient ab Oriente et Occidente_.'"
Perronel looked alarmed. "The Queen deemed her heretic in grain! Ah!She is a good wench, and of kind conditions. I would have no ill befallher, but I am glad to
be rid of her. Sir Thomas--he is a wise man, ay,and a married man, with maidens of his own, and he may have more wit inthe business than the rest of his kind. Be the matter instant?"
"Methinks Sir Thomas would have it so, since this being a holy day, thecourts be not sitting, and he is himself at home, so that he can presentthe maid to his lady. And that makes no small odds."
"Yea, but what the lady is makes the greater odds to the maid, I trow,"said Perronel anxiously.
"Fear not on that score. Dame Alice More is of kindly conditions, andwill be good to any whom her lord commends to her; and as to the youngladies, never saw I any so sweet or so wise as the two elder ones,specially Mistress Margaret."
"Well-a-day! What must be must!" philosophically observed Perronel."Now I have my wish, I could mourn over it. I am loth to part with thewench; and my man, when he comes home, will make an outcry for hispretty Ally; but 'tis best so. Come, Alice, girl, bestir thyself.Here's preferment for thee."
Aldonza raised her great soft eyes in slow wonder, and when she hadheard what was to befall her, declared that she wanted no advancement,and wished only to remain with mother Perronel. Nay, she clung to thekind woman, beseeching that she might not be sent away from the onlymotherly tenderness she had ever known, and declaring that she wouldwork all day and all night rather than leave her; but the morereluctance she showed, the more determined was Perronel, and she couldnot but submit to her fate, only adding one more entreaty that she mighttake her jackdaw, which was now a spruce grey-headed bird. Perronelsaid it would be presumption in a waiting-woman, but Ambrose declaredthat at Chelsea there were all manner of beasts and birds, beloved bythe children and by their father himself, and that he believed the dawwould be welcome. At any rate, if the lady of the house objected to it,it could return with Mistress Randall.
Perronel hurried the few preparations, being afraid that Giles mighttake advantage of the holiday to appear on the scene, and presentlyAldonza was seated in the boat, making no more lamentations after shefound that her fate was inevitable, but sitting silent, with downcasthead, now and then brushing away a stray tear as it stole down under herlong eyelashes.
Meantime Ambrose, hoping to raise her spirits, talked to his aunt of thefriendly ease and kindliness of the new home, where he was evidently asthoroughly happy as it was in his nature to be. He was much, in theposition of a barrister's clerk, superior to that of the mere servants,but inferior to the young gentlemen of larger means, though not perhapsof better birth, who had studied law regularly, and aspired to officesor to legal practice.
But though Ambrose was ranked with the three or four other clerks, hisfunctions had more relation to Sir Thomas's literary and diplomaticavocations than his legal ones. From Lucas Hansen he had learnt Dutchand French, and he was thus available for copying and translatingforeign correspondence. His knowledge of Latin and smattering of Greekenabled him to be employed in copying into a book some of theinestimable letters of Erasmus which arrived from time to time, and SirThomas promoted his desire to improve himself, and had requested MrClements, the tutor of the children of the house, to give him weeklylessons in Latin and Greek.
Sir Thomas had himself pointed out to him books calculated to settle hismind on the truth and catholicity of the Church, and had warned himagainst meddling with the fiery controversial tracts which, smuggled inoften through Lucas's means, had set his mind in commotion. And for thepresent at least beneath the shadow of the great man's intelligentdevotion, Ambrose's restless spirit was tranquil.
Of course, he did not explain his state of mind to his aunt, but shegathered enough to be well content, and tried to encourage Aldonza, whenat length they landed near Chelsea Church, and Ambrose led the way to anextensive pleasaunce or park, full of elms and oaks, whose yellow leaveswere floating like golden rain in the sunshine.
Presently children's voices guided them to a large chestnut tree. "Loyou now, I hear Mistress Meg's voice, and where she is, his honour willever be," said Ambrose.
And sure enough, among a group of five girls and one boy, all betweenfourteen and nine years old, was the great lawyer, knocking down thechestnuts with a long pole, while the young ones flew about picking upthe burrs from the grass, exclaiming joyously when they found a fullone.
Ambrose explained that of the young ladies, one was Mistress Middleton,Lady More's daughter by a former marriage, another a kinswoman.Perronel was for passing by unnoticed; but Ambrose knew better; and SirThomas, leaning on the pole, called out, "Ha, my Birkenholt, a foresterborn, knowst thou any mode of bringing down yonder chestnuts, whichbeing the least within reach, seem in course the meetest of all."
"I would I were my brother, your honour," said Ambrose, "then would Iclimb the tree."
"Thou shouldst bring him one of these days," said Sir Thomas. "But thouhast instead brought us a fair maid. See, Meg, yonder is the poor younggirl who lost her father on Ill May day. Lead her on and make her goodcheer, while I speak to this good dame."
Margaret More, a slender, dark-eyed girl of thirteen, went forward witha peculiar gentle grace to the stranger, saying, "Welcome, sweet maid!I hope we shall make thee happy," and seeing the mournful countenance,she not only took Aldonza's hand, but kissed her cheek.
Sir Thomas had exchanged a word or two with Perronel, when there was acry from the younger children, who had detected the wicker cage whichPerronel was trying to keep in the background.
"A daw! a daw!" was the cry. "Is't for us?"
"Oh, mistress," faltered Aldonza, "'tis mine--there was one who tamed itfor me, and I promised ever to keep it, but if the good knight and ladyforbid it, we will send it back."
"Nay now, John, Cicely," was Margaret saying, "'tis her own bird! Wotye not our father will let us take nought of them that come to him?Yea, Al-don-za--is not that thy name?--I am sure my father will havethee keep it."
She led up Aldonza, making the request for her. Sir Thomas smiled.
"Keep thy bird? Nay, that thou shalt. Look at him, Meg, is he not infit livery for a lawyer's house? Mark his trim legs, sable doublet andhose, and grey hood--and see, he hath the very eye of a councillorseeking for suits, as he looketh at the chestnuts John holdeth to him.I warrant he hath a tongue likewise. Canst plead for thy dinner, bird?"
"I love Giles!" uttered the black beak, to the confusion and indignationof Perronel.
The perverse bird had heard Giles often dictate this avowal, but hadentirely refused to repeat it, till, stimulated by the new surroundings,it had for the first time uttered it.
"Ah! thou foolish daw! Crow that thou art! Had I known thou hadst sucha word in thy beak, I'd have wrung thy neck sooner than have broughtthee," muttered Perronel. "I had best take thee home without more ado."
It was too late, however, the children were delighted, and perfectlywilling that Aldonza should own the bird, so they might hear it speak,and thus the introduction was over. Aldonza and her daw were conveyedto Dame Alice More, a stout, good-tempered woman, who had too manydependents about her house to concern herself greatly about theintroduction of another.
And thus Aldonza was installed in the long, low, two-storied red housewhich was to be her place of home-like service.