his mother's domination, for which, indeed, although I lament that Lady
Alice should have suffered so sorely in the doing of it, I blame him not at
all. He is a noble prince and will make us a great king, and the doings of
his mother have been a shame to us all. However, I meddle not in politics.
If the poor lady dies, as methinks is well-nigh certain, Bertha and I will
bring up the boy as our own. I have talked it over with my wife, and so far
she and I are not of one mind. I think it will be best to keep him in
ignorance of his birth and lineage, since the knowledge cannot benefit him,
and will but render him discontented with his lot and make him disinclined
to take to my calling, in which he might otherwise earn a living and rise
to be a respected citizen. But Bertha hath notions. You have not taken a
wife to yourself, Master Geoffrey, or you would know that women oft have
fancies which wander widely from hard facts, and she says she would have
him brought up as a man-at-arms, so that he may do valiant deeds, and win
back some day the title and honour of his family."

Geoffrey Ward laughed. "Trust a woman for being romantic," he said.
"However, Master Fletcher, you need not for the present trouble about the
child's calling, even should its mother die. At any rate, whether he
follows your trade, or whether the blood in his veins leads him to take to
martial deeds, the knowledge of arms may well be of use to him, and I
promise you that such skill as I have I will teach him when he grows old
enough to wield sword and battle-axe. As you know I may, without boasting,
say that he could scarce have a better master, seeing that I have for three
years carried away the prize for the best sword- player at the sports.
Methinks the boy will grow up into a strong and stalwart man, for he is
truly a splendid lad. As to archery, he need not go far to learn it, since
your apprentice, Will Parker, last year won the prize as the best marksman
in the city bounds. Trust me, if his tastes lie that way we will between
us turn him out a rare man-at-arms. But I must stand gossiping no longer;