SHOWING THE POSITION OF THE ANCIENT HALLS, etc.,
ACCORDING TO WOOD.
12th and 13th Centuries.
They knew by this time where their new comrades lived. Gilbert had a lodging with an honest citizen of the name of Seaton, who kept a shop hard by Carfax, and sold provisions of all sorts to clerks and others. He was one of the burgher class, who contrived to keep on good terms both with the scholars and his fellow-citizens, and in the frequent collisions between "town and gown"—to borrow the modern phrase—he stood good-humouredly aloof, and would not take sides in any dispute.
Hugh lived in one of the many Halls which had sprung up within the city walls. These were not collegiate institutions, but were merely places of abode, hired perhaps by a number of clerks collectively, perhaps by some master, who received inmates as boarders. They lived in these houses, and took their meals there—everything being of the roughest and simplest description—and attended lectures in the different schools according to their own fancy. Some of the richer students enlisted the services of a tutor; but many lived a free and lawless existence, learning almost nothing, frequenting lecture just for the fashion of the thing, but making no progress in scholarship, and spending the best part of the day in amusement or fighting.
In the schools attached to the religious houses there was more order, more comfort, and more decency of life than in these self-constituted Halls; but amongst such clerks as had no leaning towards the religious life there was a strong feeling of preference for simply secular abodes; and there were difficulties between the monks and the University authorities with reference to the course in Arts which held back many from attaching themselves to the monastic schools.
All this Leofric and Jack had been told with more or less of detail, and already Leofric was resolved against settling himself upon Osney Island, in the Domus Dei there. He would present his letter to the Abbot, but not until he had made a nook for himself somewhere else. Gilbert declared that he knew of a little turret in the city wall, not far from Smith Gate, in which two students had lived for a considerable time. If it were empty, they could take possession of it, and by the expenditure of a little money and ingenuity could transform it into quite a respectable living-chamber for themselves. Many a poor clerk had inhabited a chamber of that sort before, and Jack and Leofric secretly thought that they should prefer the quiet life on the wall to the noise and confusion which plainly too often reigned in the various Halls.
"We will go in by Smith Gate, and see if the turret be empty," said Gilbert; "if so, these lads can take possession forthwith, and we will show them where they can provide themselves with such things as be needful for them."
They were nearing the city by now. Already there had spread beyond the walls a certain number of Halls and other buildings. The Church of St. Mary Magdalene and the colony of the Austin Friars were without the wall on the northern side, and a few Halls had sprung up along Horsemonger Street, as it was then called, which was on the north side of the city ditch, where Broad Street now runs.
The Austin Friars were only just beginning to appear in Oxford; but the Black, White, and Grey Friars had already obtained a footing in the city. As the travellers approached the gate, they saw the cowled figures flitting about, some with black habits over their long white under-dress, some with a simple gown of grey or brown, bound with a cord at the waist. These latter, who all (save the old and infirm) went barefoot, were the Franciscans or Minorites—the Grey Friars of whom the lads had heard; and they regarded them with curiosity and veneration, believing them to be full of sanctity and virtue.
Out through the gate, just as the youths approached it, came a couple of Masters in their gowns and hoods. Leofric and Jack scanned them curiously, and eagerly inquired of their companions who they were.
"Nay, I know not the names of all the Masters in the city," answered Hugh, laughing; "there be too many for that. Belike they have been lecturing in School Street this forenoon, and are going back to their Halls. Some of these same Masters will like enough come and invite you twain to attend their lectures; but give not too ready an answer to the first who asks. Rather visit several and pick out those who please you most. It is oft the poorest and least learned who are most eager for listeners, the better sort having always their lecture-rooms full."
And now they were actually within the city precincts. Smith Gate being so close to School Street, the eager eyes of the two new-comers were immediately gratified by the sight of many hurrying figures of clerks and Bachelors and Masters, some going this way and some the other, talking earnestly together, disputing with some warmth and eloquence, or singing snatches of songs, like boys released from school.
It was not easy for unaccustomed eyes to distinguish the rank of the various passers-by; for academic dress was still in its infancy, and there were few, if any, statutory rules respecting it. The habit of the clerk was very much what he wore at home, and the black cappa of Bachelor or Master was often the same, though Masters were beginning to wear the square, tufted cap, and had the right to the miniver hood of the nobles and beneficed ecclesiastics. The scarlet gown of the Doctor had just come into use, but was at present seldom seen, as many were unable to purchase so costly a robe. The most common garment for every person in the University was the "tabard" with the girdle, and these tabards might be either red, black, or green; but black was the commonest colour, as being the most serviceable in daily wear.
Fain would the lads have lingered to watch the shifting throng of clerks and their preceptors, as they streamed out from the lecture-rooms for the mid-day meal; but Hugh and Gilbert laughed at their eager curiosity, and drew them along to the left down Hammer Hall Lane, pausing suddenly upon reaching a small turret in the wall, which once had been open to the street, but was now closed in by a few mouldering boards.
"Good!" cried Gilbert, as he pulled aside one of the boards; "the place has not been taken. Now look well at it, you two, and see if you think you can make shift to live here till a better place offers."
Pushing their way within the circular recess, the lads saw that a rude stairway led up to some sort of chamber overhead. Mounting the rickety steps with care—for they had become loose and rotten—they found themselves in a small and not unpleasing little chamber, lighted by several long, narrow loopholes, and roofed in securely from the weather overhead.
The flooring was rather decayed, and there was a mouldering smell pervading the place; but its former occupants had done various things to render habitation possible. A fireplace and chimney had been contrived in one corner, and some rude shutters had been affixed to keep out the cold air at night, or in inclement weather. A rickety shelf that would serve as a table still hung drooping from its nail. Plainly the place had been lived in before, and might well be again. Leofric and Jack looked round it, and smiled at one another.
"We could live here like princes, if there be nothing to hinder," said the latter. "Can we come and fix our abode here without making payment to any one?"
"Marry yes, since nobody uses the place. There be many such nooks along the walls, and poor clerks have settled themselves there again and again, no man saying them nay. In times of war they might post archers or marksmen at these loopholes; but short of a siege, I trow none will disturb you. And from without ye can climb easily upon the wall, and enjoy the air and watch what goes on beneath. Also there be the Fish Ponds just below, and I warrant ye will catch many a good supper from thence when ye be in need of a good meal."
Jack laughed, for he had no small skill as a fisherman; but just now he was all agog to see Oxford and settle into these new quarters.
"Had I but a few tools and some boards, I would fix us up bench and table, mend the stairs and the floor, and make the place as comfortable as heart could wish," he cried.
"And I would gather rushes for the floor, and wood for the fire, and we should feast right royally on the last of the provisions we laid up for the way," added Leofric.
"Then come away to Carfax, where ye can lay in such stores as ye need," cried Gilbert. "I will take you to honest Master Seaton, where I have always lodged. He will tell you where to go for all ye need, and the right price to pay: for there be dealers in the city who seek to mulct clerks and scholars, and charge them more than the fair price for goods; and the Chancellor, and even his Majesty the King, have had to interpose."
"What is Carfax?" asked Leofric, as, after depositing their goods carefully in the turret, they replaced the boards and sallied forth once more.
"Why, the meeting of the four great streets of the town—Quatrevois some folks call it—where High Street, Great Bayly Street, Fish Street, and North Gate Street all meet. St. Martin's Church is there with its great bell, and whenever there be strife 'twixt citizens and clerks, that bell booms out to gather the citizens together; whilst our rallying-point is St. Mary's, whose bell rings to warn us that they are rising against us. At other times Carfax is the chief mart of the city, and the bull-ring stands in the centre. But come, and thou shalt see for thyself; and good Master Seaton will give us all some dinner, I trow."
Gilbert led the way, and the rest followed him willingly. The streets had thinned considerably, the noontide hour having driven in clerks and masters alike to their dinner. Gilbert strode down Cat Street, and pointed out to his comrades several Halls situated there, and sounds of laughter and loud talking and jesting broke upon the ears of the passers-by, plainly indicating the proximity of considerable numbers of inhabitants.
"That was the Hall where I lived last," observed Hugh, as he pointed to a house, somewhat better than the rest, on the left-hand side as they walked down Cat Street. "Corbett's Hall it was then called; and the Master was an excellent man. I heard he was about to go elsewhere; probably I shall find a new head by now. But I will not pause there now; I will wait till the fetcher has brought in my goods and chattels. I will come with you to Carfax, and pay my respects to good Master Seaton first."
So on went the four, the pair who had never before seen a town gazing with wonder at the quaint-timbered houses on either side the street, whose projecting upper floors seemed almost to meet overhead. There was no footpath or paving of any sort; the roadway was but a track, deep in mud in winter, and in dust in summer. St. Mark's Church at the corner, where they turned into High Street, brought Leofric to a standstill, for such edifices were new to him; but his companions laughed and hurried him on, telling him he could drink his fill of churches in Oxford any day he chose, but that Master Seaton's dinner would not wait for his leisure.
On they went along this wider thoroughfare, not pausing to examine anything in detail, but taking in the general effect of a populated city, which was immensely wonderful to the two lads from the country, till Gilbert pointed to a tall tower standing out against the sunny sky, and said,—
"Yon is St. Martin's Church, and this is Carfax."
It was, as he had said before, just a meeting of the ways, but such a sight as it presented Leofric and Jack had never dreamed of. The open place seemed full of people: there were stalls on which merchandise of all sorts was being vended; loud-voiced salesmen were crying their wares, or chaffering over bargains with customers. There were shops, with signs swinging over them, that displayed a better sort of ware; and lads of all ages, from thirteen upwards, in the tabard of clerks, were strolling about, buying or examining goods, or exchanging a rough sort of banter with the townsmen. A few Masters or Bachelors would be seen threading their way through the crowd, but they did not often linger to speak to any; it was the clerks who seemed to have all the leisure, and some of these were playing games or throwing dice, whilst others looked on, encouraging or jibing the players.
"Heed not that rabble rout," said Gilbert, forcing his way towards a rather fine-timbered house at the corner, where Fish and High Streets joined; "come to Master Seaton's house, and let us hear all the news."
Gilbert led the way into a shop, where he was greeted somewhat boisterously by a merry-looking youth behind the counter. He nodded a reply, and pushed open a door which gave access to a steep and narrow staircase, and after ascending this he opened another door, and instantly a number of voices were raised in welcome and greeting.
Gilbert and Hugh pushed into the room from whence these sounds issued, whilst Leofric and Jack stood together just on the threshold, gazing about them with curious eyes.
They saw before them a quaint, pleasant room, rush-strewn, and plainly furnished with table and benches, in which a party of six was gathered, seated round the board, which was hospitably spread with solid viands.
The master of the house was easily distinguished by his air of authority and his general appearance. His wife was a comely dame, ruddy of face and kindly of aspect. On either side of her sat a pretty maiden, one of sixteen, another of fourteen summers; and the good-looking, strapping youth, who was now greeting Gilbert and Hugh right eagerly, was very plainly the son of the house. An apprentice looked on wide-eyed and silent at the apparition of four strangers; yet it was plain that neither Gilbert nor Hugh were so regarded in the Seaton household.
Not only were they joyfully received themselves, but their two comrades quickly shared in the hospitable welcome. They were placed at the table, their trenchers were heaped with good food, and the story of the encounter in the forest was eagerly listened to by all.
"There be many poor rogues who have taken to the forest in these times of scarcity," said Hal Seaton, the son. "The harvests have been bad, and prices have been raised; and the idle and prodigal have had much ado to keep body and soul together. Sometimes they take to theft and pillage, and then flee to the forest for safety; and some go thither in the hope of killing a fine buck unseen by the huntsmen, or to rob unwary travellers, especially those that be coming with full purses to pursue their studies here."
"Ay, and there be some that think there will be fighting ere long 'twixt his Majesty the King and the Barons," added Seaton himself gravely. "Heaven send such a thing come not to pass! It is ill work when brother takes up arms against brother, and city against city."
The youths would willingly have asked more of the state of parties at this stirring season, but just now personal matters were of more pressing importance. So they left politics for another time, and told about the turret hard by Smith Gate, where Leofric and Jack were about to ensconce themselves; and Hal begged a half-holiday from his duties in the shop, that he might take his tools, and some odds and ends of planks lying about in the workshop behind, and help the lads to settle themselves in.
This was willingly accorded, and Master Seaton and his wife both showed great kindness to the would-be clerks. The former unearthed from his stores some strong sacking fashioned into huge bags, that, stuffed with straw or dead leaves, did excellently for bedding; and the latter put up in a basket a liberal supply of food from her well-stocked larder, for her motherly heart went out towards the two lonely lads, coming to settle in a strange city, knowing nothing of the life before them. Leofric's blue eyes and gentle manners won her affections from the first, and no one could help liking honest Jack, who was so merry and so full of hope and courage.
Laden with a number of useful odds and ends, the little party made their way back to the turret chamber; and soon the sound of hammer, chisel, and saw spoke of rapid advance in the necessary work.
Leofric crossed the river again to gather dead leaves and bracken for bedding, wood for firing, and rushes for the floor. By the time he had collected and brought in sufficient stores, the work overhead had rapidly progressed, and he uttered an exclamation of delighted astonishment as he beheld the result of the afternoons toil.
The stairs and flooring were mended, rudely, to be sure, but strongly. Something like a fastening had been contrived to the lower entrance, so that they could use the basement of the turret as a storehouse for wood and other odds and ends. Up above, the little chamber began to look quite comfortable. The holes in the masonry had been filled up with mortar or patched by boards. The window shutters had been mended, and could now be used for keeping out inclement wind. One of the loopholes had actually been glazed by Hal's deft fingers, and he promised to keep his eyes open for any chance of picking up some more glass, so that the others might be served in the same way. To be sure, the glass of those days was none too translucent, and save in very cold weather, it was pleasanter to have the loopholes open to the light of day; but if heavy rain or bitter cold should drive the occupants to close their shutters, it was certainly advantageous if one or two of the narrow slits could be glazed, so that they would not be left in total darkness.
The shelf table against the wall had been mended, and two stools of a suitable height contrived. When the fire was lighted on the hearth, and the smoke had been coaxed to make its way up the chimney, the place wore a really cosy and home-like aspect, which was greatly enhanced after the floor was strewn with rushes, and the two mattresses stuffed and laid side by side in a little recess. The spare habits of the boys were hung against the wall on pegs, and their few worldly possessions laid in order upon the shelf which had been fixed up to receive them.
"I vow," cried Hugh, as he looked around him, "that I would almost sooner have such a lodging as this than spend my days in a Hall. There be Halls where fires are scarce known save in the coldest weather, and where the rushes lie on the floor till they rot, and become charged with so much filth that the stench drives the luckless clerks out into the streets. It hath not been so where I have lodged, 'tis true; but there be Halls wherein I would not set foot for the noisome state they are in."
Leofric and Jack were charmed with their quarters, and when their guests had bid them good-bye, and they had fastened themselves in for the night, they looked at each other with a sense of triumph and joy. Here they were, established as a pair of clerks in a lodging of their own in Oxford, where none was likely to molest them. They had money in their purses enough to last them a considerable time. They had made kind friends who would help them through the difficulties and perplexities of their first days; and surely before long they would find themselves at home in this strange city, and would enter into its busy life (of which they had caught glimpses to-day) with the zeal and energy of true students.
As they sat at their table, partaking with good appetite, though frugally, of the provisions left from the journey, seasoned by some of Mistress Seaton's dainties, they spoke together of their plans for the morrow.
"Methinks I should go to Osney, and present my letter. But I shall have no need to ask for shelter in the Domus Dei, seeing how well we be sheltered here."
"And I would fain see something of the good Grey Friars, of whom so much good is spoken in the town," answered Jack; "and we must seek out such Masters as we would learn from, and find out what fee we must pay to attend their lectures. It is not much, methinks, that each clerk gives, but we must be careful how we part with our money, for we may not find it easy to put silver in our purse when our store has melted away."
"I shall ask the Abbot of Osney if he will give me vellum or parchment to illuminate, for I have some skill that way," said Leofric; "I used to help the monks of St. Michael. I might e'en do the same here; and, perchance, I might teach thee too, good Jack."
Jack looked at his rough, red hands, and shook his head.
"I can make shift to read and write, but I never could do such work as that," he answered. "I will fish in the ponds, and snare rabbits in the woods, and make bread of mystelton for us to eat. My care shall be the larder, and thou shalt have leisure for work if thou canst get it. So will we live right royally in our nook, and learn all that Oxford can teach us!"
The lads slept soundly in their new quarters, but awoke with the first light of day, eager to enter upon the strange life of the city. Making their way first to the top of the wall, they had a good look round them over the still sleeping town; and then finding a place where, by the exercise of a little activity, they could clamber down on the outer side, they refreshed themselves by a plunge in the Fish Ponds, by way of ablutions, and returned through the gate to their lodging.
They had a great curiosity to go forth together and see the city, but they did not intend immediately to decide upon the preceptor they should follow. Just at starting they felt almost too excited to settle to regular study, and the visit to the Abbot of Osney was the first business of the day.
Putting on their better habits, and making themselves as trim and neat as circumstances permitted, the boys sallied forth, and took the way to Carfax as before. They knew that Osney lay to the west of the city wall, beyond the Castle, and they had a great wish to see that building at close quarters; so they pursued their way along Great Bayly Street, till they reached the mound itself, crowned with its frowning walls and battlements.
As they passed along they saw not only numbers of clerks sallying forth to their daily lectures, but great numbers of the Black Friars, who appeared to be exercising considerable activity. Some were wheeling little trucks or carts which held loads of what appeared to be goods and chattels, and they appeared to be very busy, passing to and fro with their loads or their empty trucks, like a colony of industrious ants.
"What are they doing?" asked Jack of a bystander.
"Removing themselves from the Jewry to the new House that the King's Majesty has bestowed upon them without the city walls through Little Gate and down Milk Street," was the answer. "They came and settled in the Jews' quarter, hoping to convert the Hebrew dogs to the true faith; but methinks they have but a sorry record of converts. Anyhow they are going thence, and their new house is all but ready. A few may linger on in the Jewry, but the most part will fare forth to the more commodious building yonder."
Having thus satisfied their curiosity on that score, the boys passed onwards to the Castle, and just as they approached the West Gate, they were in time to prevent something of a catastrophe. As they drew near, they perceived that a young lady, mounted on a fair palfrey, was approaching from the outer side. She was quite young, perhaps fifteen or sixteen, and was very fair to look upon. Her hair was a dusky chestnut colour, and was loosened by the exercise of riding, so that it framed her face like a soft cloud. Her eyes were bright and soft and dark, and her figure was as light and graceful as that of a sylph. As the two lads passed under the gateway, marking her approach, they bared their heads, and glanced at her with honest admiration in their eyes.
The little lady noticed their salutation, and returned it with a gentle dignity of manner; but just at that moment a piece of rag lying in the gutter was suddenly whirled round and up by a gust of wind, right against the face of the spirited little barb she was riding.
The creature suddenly took fright, reared up on its hind legs, and then made a sudden swerve, dashing off along West Gate Street at a headlong pace.
But luckily the girl rider was not borne away too in this reckless fashion. When the creature started and reared so violently, she had been almost unseated; and Leofric, seeing this, had with one quick movement thrown his arm about her; and as soon as the palfrey swerved and made off, the lady was simply lifted from her seat and gently set down by the strong arms of both lads—for Jack had rushed up to give assistance.
She stood now in the roadway, dazed, but safe, looking from one of her preservers to the other, and faltering out broken words of thanks.
Then the servant who had been behind, and who had in vain striven to stop the runaway horse, rode up, lifted the little lady to his saddle, and carried her away, before she had sufficiently recovered her breath to do more than wave her hand to her two deliverers.
The sentry at the gate, who had now come up, looked after them with a laugh.
"Old Ralph is a grim guardian. He will never let his young mistress have speech of any. But I doubt not when it comes to the ears of the Constable, he will seek you out to reward you; for fair Mistress Alys is as the apple of his eye."
"Who was the lady?" asked Jack eagerly.
"Mistress Alys de Kynaston, only daughter of the Constable of the Castle, Sir Humphrey de Kynaston. They say she is the very light of the house, and I can well believe it."
After a little more talk about the Castle and its Custodian, the sentry directed the lads how to find Osney Abbey; and after crossing Bookbinders' Bridge and passing the Almshouses, they quickly approached the gate by which access was had to the Abbey itself.
It was a fine building, inhabited by the Canons Regular of St. Augustine. There were the Chapel, dedicated to St. Nicholas, the fine cloistered refectory, the Dormitory, the Abbot's Lodging, to say nothing of the fine kitchens, and the Domus Dei of which mention has been made.
The present Abbot was Richard de Appelton, and when Leofric presented his letter and asked speech of him, he was ushered into the presence of the great man with very little delay.
Strangers, even youthful strangers, were always received hospitably at the religious houses, and the Abbot, after reading the letter of his friend, spoke kindly to the boys, asking them whether they desired the shelter of the Domus Dei.
Leofric explained what had befallen him since that letter was penned, and how he had met with kind friends, and had already found a lodging within the walls of the town. The Abbot stroked his shaven chin, and looked from Jack to Leofric, letting his eyes rest somewhat longer upon the face of the latter as he said,——
"So thou art not as yet disposed to the religious life? Yet thou hast the face of a godly youth."
"I trust we may yet be godly without the cloister wall," answered Leofric modestly. "It is not for roistering and revelry that we have chosen to live within the town, but we would fain have some small spot that we may call our own, and I had thought that perchance I might turn such skill as I have in penmanship to account, so that I might earn fees for——"
"Ah yes, I know what thou wouldst say. Perchance we can give thee some work of that kind from time to time. But there be other ways of winning money too, open to poor clerks. Thou canst say a prayer or a grace at some rich man's table, or the Chancellor will give thee a licence to beg for thy maintenance. A likely youth, with a face like thine, will not find living hard. And if thou art ever in any trouble, thou canst always come to me. The Domus Dei is open to such as thou, and any son who comes from my good friend the Prior of St. Michael will be welcome for his sake."
Leofric thanked the Abbot gratefully, and received from him a small present in money, and two or three squares of vellum, such as were used in the making of breviaries. This was a very great acquisition for Leofric, as he could now begin some illuminating or transcribing work in his leisure hours, and by the sale of this add to their scanty store of money, and obtain the material for fresh work of a like kind.
This he preferred greatly to begging, notwithstanding that mendicancy had been made respectable, if not honourable, by the friars, and that to give alms to a poor clerk, or reward him for singing a "Salve Regina," or saying a prayer or grace, was one of the regular and esteemed forms of charity.
"And remember, good lads, that there are homes in the city open to such as ye," said the Abbot, as he bid them adieu. "There is Glasson Hall in the High Street, which pious John Pilet gave to Osney Abbey not long since. We might find room for the pair of you there, if you were disturbed in your nest. There is Spalding Court in Cat Street, which the burgesses of the town have bought for the use of poor clerks; and there be Halls where the poorer clerks serve the wealthier, and earn a pittance thus. Ye will find many ways of living; and pray Heaven we have a good harvest this year, so that the present scarcity may cease."
And with a nod and a word of blessing the Abbot dismissed his young guests.
"Let us take a prowl round the town," said Jack, as they turned their backs upon the stately buildings of the Abbey, "there is so much to see at every turn, and I would fain know the streets and lanes of the city by heart. We must enter by the West Gate that we left, but we will wander round the walls and see what lies in the south ward of the city."
Leofric willingly agreed, and they retraced their steps as far as the gate, where they were at once hailed by the same sentry as had spoken to them before.
"Fortune favours you, honest lads," he said. "The Constable of the Castle has just sent down this purse, to be given to the two clerks who saved the Mistress Alys from hurt when her palfrey took fright," and he put into the hands of Jack a small leathern satchel, in which were a goodly number of silver pieces.
"Now this is luck indeed!" cried the youth, as they took their way onward. "We meet with success at every turn. Methinks that either thou or I must have been born beneath a lucky star."
But they had little time for discussing their good luck, for almost immediately they found themselves in the heart of the Grey Friars' colony, which lay close to the West Gate, just where there was a gap in the city wall, probably owing to the proximity of a marshy tract which rendered the protection of the wall of comparatively little use. Trill Mill Stream wound round the little colony, and formed its southern limit. The parish was that of St. Ebbs, perhaps the poorest in Oxford. This was doubtless why the Minorites, or Grey Friars, had made of it their headquarters. To dwell among the poor, and to live as poorly as any of them, was their principle and practice; and down in these low-lying, swampy districts, fever, ague, even leprosy abounded, and the Friars toiled with might and main amongst the sick.
The boys saw them going forth by twos and threes, or passing in and out of their low, poverty-stricken buildings. It was against the desires of their founder that they should ever possess property or aspire to learning; but the practical inconvenience of the one prohibition, and the thirst for knowledge which was growing up in the hearts of men at this time, militated against the strict code of St. Francis.
The Franciscans made their houses as simple and unpretentious as possible. They lived the most self-denying of lives; but they were beginning to frequent the schools, and to teach in schools of their own, and although there were often drawbacks and difficulties placed in the way of their advancement, they had already many great and notable scholars in their ranks.
The main difficulty was that by statute no one might begin in theology who had not first taken a degree in Arts, whilst the vows and rules of the monks and friars debarred them in many cases from any sort of secular studies. They were so well qualified to lecture in theology that it was often difficult to refuse their plea; and yet the statutes stood in the way.
As the boys reached the corner of Milk Street, they observed a Franciscan Friar of venerable aspect coming towards them, and instinctively Leofric bent the knee as if to ask a blessing.
The old man stood still, and smiled benignly. It was one of the characteristics of the Grey Friars that, in spite of the self-denial and austerity of their lives, they were more uniformly cheerful, kindly, and even merry in their talk and ways than any other of the religious orders. For this reason, perhaps, they were beloved above others; and the great ones of the world, as well as the poor, came to love and venerate them.
"Peace be with you, my children," said the Friar. "Come you as strangers to this city? Methinks you have the air of the country clinging to you yet."
"We did but arrive yesterday," answered Leofric; "and we have scarce the right to call ourselves clerks. But that is what we hope to be soon, so as we can make up our minds where we shall gain the best learning for such fee as our purse will enable us to give."
"You must needs first study theTriviumandQuadriviumof Arts," said the Friar, when he had questioned them a little more as to their intended manner of life; "but since I hold that no learning is complete that doth not embrace the study of the Word of God, come ye both, if it please you and ye have time, to the school of our order, where I strive to impart a few crumbs of knowledge to our clerks and younger brethren. Many lads like ye twain come without fee, and glad shall I be if any poor words of mine can give help or comfort."
The boys would have stammered out some words of thanks, but the Friar put them aside with a smile.
"Nay, nay, lads, we are sent here not for our own but for others' good. Ask for the School of the Franciscans, and for Brother Angelus. Most mornings from nine till eleven I am to be found there. You will be welcome. Go in peace."
"We will of a surety go," said Leofric, as they pursued their way. "He had the face of a saint. I trow that this is a right godly place. We get kindness from all we meet."
"Methinks it is thy face that wins it for us," quoth Jack, with a laugh; "thou hast somewhat the face of a saint thyself."
There was some shrewd truth in this remark. Leofric's was a countenance that could not but attract; and at that time there were such numbers of rude, rough, ill-mannered and ill-living clerks in the place, that favourable notice was often bestowed upon such as appeared of gentler nature and manners. All the religious brotherhoods were more or less on the look-out for likely pupils, and though the more enlightened of their members would not put pressure upon lads to make too early a choice of the cloister life, or of that of the friars, they gladly recruited their ranks from such promising students and clerks as they succeeded in drawing beneath their influence.
As the boys stood looking down Milk Street, they continued to see the Black Friars flitting busily to and fro, fetching and carrying their simple goods and chattels; and prompted by curiosity, they turned into the Jewry, and were soon gazing with the greatest interest at the Jewish denizens of that quarter.
The Jews had had a footing in Oxford from the very early days; they had a synagogue in Fish Street, nearly opposite to St. Aldate's Church. (It may be noted that the old Fish Street is the present St. Aldate's.) They were, of course, the most moneyed class in the city, and they had their own code and manner of life, were exempt from the operation of the common law, and were treated as serfs of the King. Had it not been that the Kings protected them from pillage by their neighbours, in order to plunder them themselves, the Jews would scarcely have continued to exist. The people hated and feared them, even whilst they borrowed from them at a rate of usury limited by statute. But they were too valuable to the Crown to be exterminated, and the Black Friars had settled amongst them in the hope of effecting their conversion.
For many years they had considerable success, so much so that the King established a house called the Guild Hall for the reception of the baptized Hebrews. It was not really their lack of success (although fewer conversions had taken place of late) but lack of room which occasioned the flitting of the Black Friars from the Jewry. They were not all of them leaving immediately, even now; but their new building was almost complete, and a number of the brothers were about to take their departure, hence the excitement prevailing in the locality of the Jewry.
When the lads had gazed their fill at the strange dress and dark faces of the Jews, and had listened to their talk, and their covert jests as they secretly derided the Christian brothers who had dwelt so long amongst them, they turned southward down Fish Street, and then by St. Frideswyde's Street to the great group of beautiful and ancient buildings comprising St. Frideswyde's Church and Abbey—the oldest in Oxford—occupying the site where Christ Church now stands.
Grave, stately looking men walked with slow, meditative steps about the enclosure in which stood those buildings. They were habited in a long white coat of cloth down to the heels, girt about with a leather girdle; over this was a short surplice of linen, and over that again a short black cape that reached to the elbows. On their shaven heads they wore a black square steepled cap. These were the Canons Regular of St. Augustine—the same order as those of Osney.
Here again the walls were broken down, and had crumbled to decay, groves and meadows and fish ponds extending southward to Trill Mill Stream. The boys looked about them in silent wonder, but nobody addressed them; and though they would have liked to steal into the church and see St. Frideswyde's shrine, they did not venture to do so, fearing that they would be regarded as intruders in that sacred place.
"Hugh le Barbier was telling me of notable miracles done at yon shrine," said Leofric, as they turned away at length up St. Frideswyde's Lane. "St. Frideswyde was a daughter of an ancient king, and she built a nunnery here, and was herself a nun. Afterwards it became a place for monks, and now it is an Abbey; but the shrine of St. Frideswyde still remains, and great wonders are wrought there."
"Hark!" suddenly cried Jack, whose ears had been more attentive to some sound in the distance than to his companion's words, "I hear the noise of a tumult. There is something stirring not far off. Let us e'en run and see what it be. Methinks I hear the sound of blows and shouts."
Leofric heard the same sound which had attracted Jack's attention. It seemed to proceed from a short distance off, and they hurried along till they reached the corner of Great Jewry Lane where it joins Shydyard Street (now Oriel Street), where the shouting began to take more articulate form, and the boys heard the words, "North, North!—South, South!" bawled and yelled from scores of throats.
"It is some fray betwixt the clerks," said Jack, who had not listened for naught to Gilbert's tales during the night they camped by the fire in the forest. "Did he not tell us that they were banded into two or more great bodies, North and South, and that they were ofttimes coming to blows together? Haply we had better stand close in this doorway, and let the rout go by. Clerks are killed by their fellows in the open streets every year, if what we hear be true, for nothing worse than belonging to the adverse faction."
Leofric, who though no coward was by nature placable, and adverse to blows, was ready enough to take this counsel, and set his back against the door in the little porch which offered shelter to the pair. The fight seemed to be coming their way, and presently a few clerks scudded by, yelling, laughing, cursing; brandishing their clubs and hurling all manner of foul and derisive epithets at those behind them, from whom, however, they evidently thought it well to flee. Others followed, some having cut heads or bleeding noses, dishevelled, out of breath, angry, yet inclined to make game of themselves and others all the while.
"North! North! North!" they shouted, interlarding their words with many an oath and epithet that need not be transcribed. "Ye coward Southerners, ye only dare to attack when ye be ten to one. We will give you back as good as ye gave! North! North!"
Plainly the pursuers were close behind the flying feet of the last fugitive, when suddenly the rout was brought up short by the appearance of a tall man in a long gown, with a weapon at his side, who came round the corner at a quick pace, and confronted the rioters with stern glances.
"How dare you disturb the peace again, you good-for-nothing brawlers?" he cried in ringing accents. "Let me have such another scene within the week, and I will have some of you to answer for it in the Chancellor's Court. As if it were not enough that you must be fighting the burgesses, fighting the citizens, fighting the Jews, but ye must be fighting one another too, and that in broad daylight, when you should be at your studies. To your Halls and lodgings, every man of you; and if I hear of such another brawl as ye come from lecture, I will deal differently with some of you."
The clerks, who had pulled up suddenly at sight of this stalwart functionary, now began to slink away this way and that. Many of them were mere lads, led on by the boyish instinct of fighting; a few were evilly-disposed rogues, who were always to be found in the streets, ready for any brawl; others, again, were scholars who had followed in the wake of the crowd, with an idle interest in anything that savoured of a fight rather than with any particular desire to take part in it.
These sorts of frays were of almost daily occurrence in old Oxford, and only when they became too numerous or too severe was any particular notice taken of them. The students for the most part lived and brawled, studied and played, very much as it pleased them, and a fight, with many or with few, was part of the day's work.
Jack espied Gilbert at the edge of the crowd, and made for him quickly.
"What is the matter? and who is he that stayed the fight?" he asked, with eager curiosity; and Gilbert answered, laughing,—
"There is naught the matter; the fight was but a bit of play as the men came out from lecture. We have such almost every day, and they seldom come to more than a few cracked crowns. Yon man of the gown is the Proctor of the South. There be two such in the University, one for the North and one for the South; and I trow they have their hands full to keep order sometimes! But come along, let us to dinner, and ye shall tell your news."
Before a week had passed away, Leofric and Jack felt as though they had been months at Oxford, so many new experiences had been crowded into that short space.
The more they saw of the strange life of the place, the more glad were they of the chance which had given to them this little private shelter of their own, instead of casting them amongst a number of strange clerks in one of the poorer Halls or lodgings of the city.
For in the days of its infancy the University had enough to do in protecting its own liberties from outside attack. It was therefore unable to exercise individual authority over its heterogeneous members. It provided instruction for them, it guarded their persons jealously from assaults from without, and fought their battle right lustily when jealous townsmen or papal emissaries sought to interfere with liberty or life. But for the rest, the clerks and scholars lived in a state of glorious and almost barbaric liberty, and all that Chancellor or Proctors could hope to attempt was to restrain any serious outbreaks of violence, either between clerks and citizens, or between the various sections of the clerks themselves.
Open rioting in the streets was checked as far as possible; but an immense amount of roistering and disorder could and did prevail without let or hindrance, and there was no certainty from day to day that some bloody collision might not occur in the city which might have a serious termination.
Stories were told of clerks who had been set upon and killed by angry citizens, of citizens who had been slain by clerks, of Masters even who had met with injuries too often fatal in their effects, sometimes from the hands of citizens, sometimes from those of scholars inflamed by passion or drink.
There had been times when the King had had to interfere in order to calm the strife between the contending parties. There had also been times when the Masters and scholars had deserted Oxford by hundreds, if not thousands, and had threatened to establish themselves in other localities. This had been done when the citizens had put upon them some marked indignity and affront, and had generally resulted in the submission and humiliation of the town. For, as was pointed out to the burgesses, the importance and prosperity of Oxford mainly depended upon the presence there of this school of learning, and if they drove away the scholars by their ill-judged enmity, they were signing the death-warrant of their own city.
It was often to these quarrels and their adjudication that the endowments (if such a word can be employed) of the University were owed. The citizens would submit, and agree to pay so many marks a year in token of their penitence, and these moneys were called "chests," and formed a fund from which poor scholars might borrow without interest, leaving a pledge behind; and private individuals would sometimes start a similar chest, from which system gradually developed the scholarships and exhibitions of our own days.
But the life of the infant University was a very strange one as compared with the collegiate system which gradually grew out of it. Thirteen or fourteen was a common age for a youth to commence life as a clerk, and even at that tender age very little supervision was given him.
Originally the University copied to a certain extent the guilds of a city corporation, and as a seven years' apprenticeship was imposed upon lads entering trade guilds, so a seven years' course was expected of a student between the date of his entry as a clerk and the time at which he might take his M.A. degree. In the previous century there were regular University guilds, and as the University was international, and men from all countries came thither, these guilds naturally partook of a national character, men of the same language consorting together, so that different Halls became associated with the names of different nationalities.
Even amongst the inhabitants of the British Isles there were distinctions and race divisions. The Welsh formed a colony of their own, whilst North and South were the two main factions in the place in the thirteenth century, and these brawled terribly at times between themselves.
Even when no actual brawling was going on, the streets of Oxford after dusk were places where it was needful to walk warily. By day studies and games occupied the clerks the best part of their time; but with the setting of the sun a stop was put to these occupations. Candles were dear, firing was often scanty, and the close, ill-smelling Halls, where the rush-strewn floors were often not cleaned for weeks together, became almost intolerable when shut up. Naturally enough, the clerks preferred to sally forth into the streets, some to drink or sing songs at the taverns, others to parade the streets, shouting and joking, and playing any pranks that entered their heads. When it is remembered that almost every person in those days carried arms of some sort, and that the most trifling quarrel provoked blows, it may well be understood that the evening hours in the city were anything but peaceful, and some sympathy can be felt with the citizens in their enmity towards the gownsmen, even though these were a source of profit to them.
Evening by evening Leofric and Jack heard hideous sounds of drunken revelry proceeding from the various streets in the vicinity, and if ever they had the curiosity to parade the town after dark, they were amazed at the disorder and violence which seemed to prevail.
"I had thought," said Leofric, "that Oxford would be full of grave and reverend doctors, whose presence would impose order and gravity upon all. But methinks it is full of wantonness and revelling and fighting. Right glad am I, good Jack, that we have our own little nest on the walls. I should be loth indeed to belong to yonder herd."
Jack was not quite so particular, and a frolic in the streets, so long as things did not go too far, was rather agreeable to him than otherwise. Sometimes he would steal out, whilst Leofric was poring over his illuminating work, and enjoy a stroll with some of the clerks of the better sort with whom he had made acquaintance, and as he grew used to the strange ways of the city, he found much to amuse and interest him.
Leofric had purchased, with the money given him by the Abbot of Osney, some materials to enable him to work at the illumination of his vellum leaves, and was doing some fine and beautiful illumination which was certain to fetch him a good sum at some wealthy man's house. Jack looked on in amaze at his skill, but sometimes felt the time hang a little heavy. On such occasions he would sally forth to do the necessary marketings, or to collect fuel, and so forth; and often Hugh le Barbier would drop in to watch Leofric at his toil and exchange ideas with him on many subjects.
Hugh was of a studious turn, and he had the same sort of refined instinct as Leofric, and shrank from the tumult and rowdiness of the streets. He had not yet succeeded in finding a Hall quite to his mind, and was lodging at present at "Dagville's Inn" (now the Mitre), which belonged in those days to one Philip Pady, a burgess, who had rented it to an Italian of the name of Pedro Balzani, who had lived long in the city, and made an excellent innkeeper, having great skill in culinary matters, and a good English wife who understood the likings of her countrymen.
"Thou must come and sup with me one of these days," said Hugh one day, as he sat with Leofric after Jack had sauntered forth. "I have a comfortable chamber enow, though somewhat chilly when the wind is riotous; but I have found favour in the eyes of mine host, and I take my meals with him and his family. This is not a grace he accords to all who come, nor even to all who stay long in his house, as I am doing. And, in truth, he does right to be cautious; for he has a pair of wonderfully beauteous daughters, twin sisters, and so much alike that it was long before I knew one from the other."
Leofric looked up with a gleam of interest in his eyes.
"Beautiful, thou sayest? I was wondering if perchance I could find in this place a beautiful face; for see thou here, I would fain on this square of vellum portray an angel with a roll in his hands, upon which I shall inscribe, in fine penmanship, certain prayers. I have some small skill in drawing faces. I used to amuse the monks of St. Michael by taking likenesses of them, and they said I did it well. But it is not easy to find a face for an angel, though there are some pretty lads here and there walking the streets. I wonder if I could find an inspiration in the face of your twin sisters."
"Thou shalt come and see," quoth Hugh eagerly; "methinks it would please them well to be thus portrayed. For my part, I think that Linda's face would be the better; it is ofttimes full of a sweet seriousness and repose, whereas Lotta is all sparkle and fire; and it is by these two expressions that I begin to know them the one from the other, though, should Lotta be pensive and Linda merry, I am at fault again!"
"I should like to see them," said Leofric. "I have heard of such things—sisters so alike that none may distinguish between them—but I have never seen such. It must be something strange."
"Thou shalt come and see; thou and Jack shall sup with me to-morrow. I have spoken to Balzani about you both before now. Thou hast a quick eye and a keen understanding, and I would ask what thou dost think of Tito Balzani, the son of mine host. For my part I like him not, and methinks he has no love for me. He consorts with one Roger de Horn, one of the biggest braggarts and bullies of the place. He calls himself a clerk, but it is little of learning that will ever get into that pate of his. He, too, comes to table with mine host and his family, and methinks he is vexed and jealous because the same grace is accorded to me. He speaks insolent words anent upstarts and fine-gentlemen fops; and it is plain that he seeks a quarrel with me, or else to drive me to other quarters."
Leofric was interested in all that concerned his friend, for he had a sincere liking for Hugh, who had been kind to him in a variety of ways. He gladly promised to visit him on the morrow, and take supper with him, being interested in the thought of seeing these Balzanis.
"I suspect there is some love-jealousy at the bottom of this fellow's dislike for Hugh," remarked Jack, when he heard Leofric's account of the matter; "there be some fellows who must always have a sweetheart, and perchance this bully thinks that the fair ladies will think more of Hugh's open face and gentle bearing than of his own. We will go and see for ourselves; for I would be sorry that any hurt should come to good Hugh. He is a very proper fellow; but in such a city as this any evil-disposed person might seek a quarrel with his rival, and do him a deadly mischief without fear of anything worse than the Chancellor's prison. Benefit of clergy may be source of safety to some, but it can be a source of peril too, when the vilest of the land claim it as a cloak for their worst sins."
The new clerks were beginning to learn many lessons as to the working of the prevailing system, and they heard many things from Brother Angelus, whose lecture-room they sought whenever they could, and who seemed to take a special interest in these two lads. Once they had accompanied him in a round of visits amongst the poor in the parish of St. Ebbs, and had longed to emulate his skill and tenderness with the sick. It seemed strange to them to see one who was so learned in saintly lore, and who was so revered in his own school by the pupils of St. Francis, humbling himself here to perform the most menial office for the poorest person, without a thought for his own dignity or position. But it was alike the theory and the practice of the friars to humble themselves to tend their brethren; nor did they think it shame to ask alms at the doors of the rich, for they might possess nothing of their own, and must needs beg sustenance for themselves and for those whom they desired to help.
Leofric and Jack had by this time settled what lectures to attend and what masters to follow. They had been perplexed for a while at the choice before them, and by the solicitations of their superiors for a hearing in their particular schools. They had visited a considerable number before finally deciding, and were now deeply interested in the daily lectures they heard upon a variety of subjects. Jack declared he had never had such a hard time in his life, and he wanted a good deal of help from Leofric in taking in what he heard. But both lads had sharp wits and a great thirst for information, and they soon attracted the notice of their instructors by their regular attendance, and by the attention they bestowed upon the lecture.
So far they had not made a great many acquaintances amongst their fellow-clerks, the number of whom was quite confusing at the outset. Some amongst them were too rough and uncouth to attract them, whilst others, more gently born, were superior to them in station, and they feared a rebuff should they attempt to make advances. Life was simpler in its conditions in those days, and friendships easily grow up when the young are thrown together; but pride of race is nowhere absent, and both Leofric and Jack had a great dislike to putting themselves forward in any way.
There was a great deal of talk in the city at that time, and indeed all over the country, as to the condition of affairs betwixt the King and the Barons. Leofric and Jack were only gradually beginning to take any interest in political matters, being sufficiently engrossed just now in their own affairs; but Hugh talked often to Leofric about the great Earl of Leicester, who had married the King's sister, and who was now the head and champion of the Barons' party. He spoke of him with the ardent enthusiasm of youth, called him the greatest and noblest man of the day, would tell long stories of his prowess in Gascony and other places, and of the ill-treatment he had ofttimes received at the hands of the capricious and unstable monarch.
"The King never knows his own mind two days together!" the young man had scornfully declared, "and he makes promises only to break them. He is the tool and dupe of the Pope, and is bleeding his country to death, sending all its wealth across the seas for objects with which we have no concern. And then he breaks every promise whereby he has attained these moneys, and our charters and liberties are trampled underfoot, even when he has most solemnly promised to observe and respect them."
Hugh was an ardent supporter of that party in the kingdom which began to be called the Barons' party, and Leofric and Jack drank in his spirit eagerly. It was, in fact, the prevailing one amongst the members of the University of all grades. The friars, too, were far more in sympathy with the champions of the liberties and rights of the people and the constitution, than with the aggressions and tyrannies of a Pope-ridden monarch. So that Oxford, although divided in some measure upon the burning questions of the day, inclined on the whole very much in favour of that party of which Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, was now the acknowledged head.
When Hugh escorted his two friends through the streets to Dagville's Inn, where they were to sup with him as arranged, he was considerably excited by a rumour which had just reached the city, and which was causing no small stir there.
It was said that Oxford had been chosen as the place where in a short time, perhaps two months hence, a Parliament was to be assembled in which the burning questions of the day were to be discussed, and some settlement of a definite nature arrived at between the King and his nobles. The very idea of this great assembly sent a thrill of excitement through the place. The streets were crowded with knots of clerks and citizens, for once all gathered amicably together, discussing the news which had been brought from London, and wondering whether it were true.
Dagville's Inn presented a lively appearance. Its porch and bar were crowded with guests, and a dark-faced man, who spoke with the accent of a foreigner, was busy serving the guests, as was also a youth with a tousle of frizzy hair and a pair of shifty black eyes, who bore a strong resemblance to mine host, but looked a great deal more crafty and cruel.
Leofric observed his face as he passed in, and noted that he gave an ugly scowl at sight of them. It seemed plain that he had no liking for Hugh, although what was the cause of the grudge he bore him it was less easy to decide.
Hugh pushed his way through the lower room, his guests following; and after mounting to the upper floor, they found themselves in a pleasant room, not unlike that in which they had seen the Seaton family assembled on their first arrival at the city. Its window, which was large and latticed, though the lattice stood wide open to the mild evening air, looked upon the High Street; and upon the window seat lay a lute, and a piece of fine embroidery work such as was seldom seen save in the nunneries or in the houses of fine ladies.
A table in the centre of the room was set for supper, but the apartment itself was empty, and Leofric took up the lute gently, and fingered it with loving touches. But the next moment he put it hastily down, for the door opened, and a pleasant-looking motherly woman came in bearing a smoking dish, and she was followed by two maidens, each with a dish in her hands.
Hugh stepped forward to relieve one daughter of her load, and Jack did the same by the second. Leofric, who was more shy by nature, stood where he was in the window, looking in a sort of amaze from one girl to the other. Both were dressed exactly alike, in a semi-Italian fashion which he thought most bewitching; but it was the beauty of the two faces, and their extraordinary similarity, which confused and bewildered him. No wonder Hugh had said it was hard to tell one sister from the other; he marvelled that any should learn to know them apart. To his eyes the faces seemed identical, the same rich colouring, the same dark velvet-soft eyes, the same flashing smile and finely-pencilled brows.
Hugh made him known to the sisters, who were girls of about his own age, albeit their southern blood made them appear older than their age. He called one Lotta and one Linda, and asked Leofric if he thought they would do as models for him.
The young artist blushed to the roots of his hair, and knew not what to say; but one of the maidens laughed merrily, and looked archly into his face.
"Methinks if he wants an angel-model, he had best take his own portrait," she said, in clear musical tones; whilst the other sister added in a voice of precisely the same character,—
"Or seek to get a glimpse of lovely Mistress Alys at the Castle. Methinks she has the fairest face of any maid in the city."
Whilst the young people were talking together in the window, and drawing out Leofric to tell them of his art, and even to show them what he could do by means of a bit of charcoal upon a piece of wood, a tall, burly, dark-browed young fellow lounged into the room, and looked across at the group round Leofric with a scowl in his deep-set eyes.
Jack was the only one who noticed his entrance, and he knew the intruder to be Roger de Horn, who had a certain notoriety in the place as being one of its most turbulent spirits.
"Supper, supper, good folks," called the mistress from the head of the table, where she had seated herself before another smoking dish which she had been to fetch. "If the father and Tito are busy for the moment, we must not let the supper spoil. Doubtless they will join us when they smell the viands.—Come, young sir, and let us see if thou canst wield a knife as well as a pen, for I believe not in your starveling clerks. Good victuals make good scholars, as I always say."
The hostess was a cheerful soul, and her calling in life had given her easy, pleasant manners that won her good-will from all. She looked little enough like the mother of the crafty Tito, or even of these beautiful girls. Tito, in truth, was not her son; for Balzani had been married twice, and his first wife had been of his own nationality. Tito was several years older than the twin sisters, and no very great likeness existed between them. Yet the daughters looked far more Italian than English, although they spoke their mother's tongue with perfect fluency, and without any sort of accent. They were both very charming girls. Leofric could not on that occasion decide in the least which was the more charming, for he could not tell them apart. Sometimes he thought he was beginning to know them, but again found himself completely at fault. But he was delighted with the permission accorded to him of drawing their portraits, and the girls' eagerness over this matter amused and gratified him not a little.
Roger seemed in a very ill temper all the while, as Jack was not slow to notice. He sat silent and sullen at the board, nor did it soothe him to observe that nobody seemed to miss him or take note of his ill-humour. All were occupied with Hugh and his guests, chattering and laughing gaily. Nobody appeared to have a word or a look for him, unless it were the hostess, who pressed him sometimes to partake of one or another of the dishes on the table, but always returned to join the chatter of the young folks, which plainly interested her much more than the morose responses of Roger.
When Balzani and his son appeared, they were full of the news which was exciting the place. The innkeeper was pleased with the thought of all the fine company that this meeting would bring to the town. He did not profess to know or to care very much about the rights of the case; he was still too much the foreigner to enter keenly into English politics. But the local excitement he thoroughly appreciated, and when he got a chance he questioned Hugh closely about the great Earl of Leicester and his household and retinue, wondering whether so great a man would condescend to lodge in his house, and if so, what gain such a thing would bring to him.
When Jack and Leofric took their leave, promising another visit soon, Hugh walked with them part of the way, asking their opinion of his quarters and his friends.
"I'd have a care if I were thee," said Jack, with one of his shrewd glances; "for that braggart Roger de Horn is no friend of thine, and methinks Tito and he are fast friends. In this city it behoves men to walk warily if they have foes abroad. I would have a care if I were thee."