not, I was bound to him, that he would have both of us, and would
not drag about a helpless old man unless he might have the wench to
do his bidding. I verily believe that, but for my being on the
watch and speaking a word to two or three stout yeomen of the king's
guard that chanced to be crushing a pot of sack at the Garter, he
would have played some villainous trick on us. They gave a hint to
my Lord of York's steward, and he came down and declared that the
Archbishop required Quipsome Hal, and would--of his grace--send a
purse of nobles to the Fire-eater, wherewith he was to be off on the
spot without more ado, or he might find it the worse for him, and
they, together with mine host's good wife, took care that the rogue
did not carry away Perronel with him, as he was like to have done.
To end my story, here am I, getting showers of gold coins one day
and nought but kicks and gibes the next, while my good woman keeps
house nigh here on the banks of the Thames with Gaffer Martin. Her
Flemish thrift has set her to the washing and clear-starching of the
lawyers' ruffs, whereby she makes enough to supply the defects of my
scanty days, or when I have to follow my lord's grace out of her
reach, sweet soul. There's my tale, nevoys. And now, have ye a
hand for Quipsome Hal?"

"O uncle! Father would have honoured thee!" cried Stephen.

"Why didst thou not bring her down to the Forest?" said Ambrose.

"I conned over the thought," said Randall, "but there was no way of
living. I wist not whether the Ranger might not stir up old tales,
and moreover old Martin is ill to move. We brought him down by boat
from Windsor, and he has never quitted the house since, nor his bed
for the last two years. You'll come and see the housewife? She