Warden of St. Elizabeth's had brought them in for an hour's sport.

Of course, in such close quarters, the rival Warden was esteemed a
natural enemy, and went by the name of "Old Bess," so that his
recommendation went for worse than nothing, and a dash at Spring was
made by the inhospitable young savages. Stephen stood to the
defence in act to box, and the shy lad stood by him, calling for
fair play and one at a time. Of course a fight ensued, Stephen and
his champion on the one side, and two assailants on the other, till
after a fall on either side, Ambrose's friend interfered with a
voice as thundering as the manly crack would permit, peace was
restored, Stephen found himself free of the meads, and Spring was
caressed instead of being tormented.

Stephen was examined on his past, present, and future, envied for
his Forest home, and beguiled into magnificent accounts, not only of
the deer that had fallen to his bow and the boars that had fallen to
his father's spear, but of the honours to which his uncle in the
Archbishop's household would prefer him--for he viewed it as an
absolute certainty that his kinsman was captain among the men-at-
arms, whom he endowed on the spot with scarlet coats faced with
black velvet, and silver medals and chains.

Whereat one of the other boys was not behind in telling how his
father was pursuivant to my Lord Duke of Norfolk, and never went
abroad save with silver lions broidered on back and breast, and
trumpets going before; and another dwelt on the splendours of the
mayor and aldermen of Southampton with their chains and cups of
gold. Stephen felt bound to surpass this with the last report that
my Lord of York's men rode Flemish steeds in crimson velvet