"Ay, you love leading-strings," returned Stephen. "Where is he
going now? All out of our way!"

Father Shoveller, however, as he went down the Castle hill,
explained that the Warden of St. Elizabeth's Hospital was his
friend, and knowing him to have acquaintance among the clergy of St.
Paul's, it would be well to obtain a letter of commendation from
him, which might serve them in good stead in case they were
disappointed of finding their uncle at once.

"It would be better for Spring to have a little more rest," thought
Stephen, thus mitigating his own longing to escape from the monks
and friars, of whom Winchester seemed to be full.

They had a kindly welcome in the pretty little college of St.
Elizabeth of Hungary, lying in the meadows between William of
Wykeham's College and the round hill of St. Catharine. The Warden
was a more scholarly and ecclesiastical-looking person than his
friend, the good-natured Augustinian. After commending them to his
care, and partaking of a drink of mead, the monk of Silkstede took
leave of the youths, with a hearty blessing and advice to husband
their few crowns, not to tell every one of their tokens, and to
follow the counsel of the Warden of St. Elizabeth's, assuring them
that if they turned back to the Forest, they should have a welcome
at Silkstede. Moreover he patted Spring pitifully, and wished him
and his master well through the journey.

St. Elizabeth's College was a hundred years older than its neighbour
St. Mary's, as was evident to practised eyes by its arches and