on the shoulder and
said: "Was it not sooth that I said, brother, that Robin Hood should
bring us John Ball?"

CHAPTER III

THEY MEET AT THE CROSS

The street was pretty full of men by then we were out in it, and all
faces turned toward the cross. The song still grew nearer and louder,
and even as we looked we saw it turning the corner through the hedges
of the orchards and closes, a good clump of men, more armed, as it
would seem, than our villagers, as the low sun flashed back from many
points of bright iron and steel. The words of the song could now be
heard, and amidst them I could pick out Will Green's late challenge to
me and my answer; but as I was bending all my mind to disentangle more
words from the music, suddenly from the new white tower behind us
clashed out the church bells, harsh and hurried at first, but presently
falling into measured chime; and at the first sound of them a great
shout went up from us and was echoed by the new-comers, "John Ball hath
rung our bell!" Then we pressed on, and presently we were all mingled
together at the cross.

Will Green had good-naturedly thrust and pulled me forward, so that I
found myself standing on the lowest step of the cross, his seventy-two
inches of man on one side of me. He chuckled while I panted, and said:

"There's for thee a good hearing and seeing stead, old lad. Thou art
tall across thy belly and not otherwise, and thy wind, belike, is none
of the best, and but for me thou wouldst have been amidst the thickest
of the throng, and have heard words muffled by Kentish bellies and seen
little but swinky woollen elbows and greasy plates and jacks. Look no
more on the ground, as though thou sawest a hare, but let thine eyes
and thine ears be busy to gather tidings to bear back to Essex--or
heaven!"

I grinned good-fellowship at him but said nothing, for in truth my eyes
and ears were as busy as he would have them to be. A buzz of general
talk went up from the throng amidst the regular cadence of the bells,
which now seemed far away and as it were that they were not swayed by
hands, but were living creatures making that noise of their own wills.

I looked around and saw that the newcomers mingled with us must have
been a regular armed band; all had bucklers slung at their backs, few
lacked a sword at the side. Some had bows, some "staves"--that is,
bills, pole-axes, or pikes. Moreover, unlike our villagers, they had
defensive arms. Most h