lly devout, but which at any rate looked more like devotion than the
demeanour of any one around. When the _Ite missa est_ was pronounced,
and all rose up, Stephen touched him and he rose, looking about,
bewildered.

"So please you, young sir, I can show you another sort of thing by and
by," said in his ear Tibble Steelman, who had come in late, and marked
his attitude.

They went up from Saint Faith's in a flood of talk, with all manner of
people welcoming Master Headley after his journey, and thence came back
to dinner which was set out in the hall very soon after their return
from church. Quite guests enough were there on this occasion to fill
all the chairs, and Master Headley intimated to Giles that he must begin
his duties at table as an apprentice, under the tuition of the senior, a
tall young fellow of nineteen, by name Edmund Burgess. He looked
greatly injured and discomfited, above all when he saw his two
travelling companions seated at the table--though far lower than the
night before; nor would he stir from where he was standing against the
wall to do the slightest service, although Edmund admonished him sharply
that unless he bestirred himself it would be the worse for him.

When the meal was over, and grace had been said, the boards were removed
from their trestles, and the elders drew round the small table in the
window with a flagon of sack and a plate of wastel bread in their midst
to continue their discussion of weighty Town Council matters. Every one
was free to make holiday, and Edmund Burgess good-naturedly invited the
strangers to come to Mile End, where there was to be shooting at the
butts, and a match at single-stick was to come off between Kit
Smallbones and another giant, who was regarded as the champion of the
brewer's craft.

Stephen was nothing loth, especially if he might take his own crossbow;
but Ambrose never had much turn for these pastimes and was in no mood
for them. The familiar associations of the mass had brought the grief
of orphanhood, homelessness, and uncertainty upon him with the more
force. His spirit yearned after his father, and his heart was sick for
his forest home. Moreover, there was the duty incumbent on a good son
of saying his prayers for the repose of his hither's soul. He hinted as
much to Stephen, who, boy-like, answered, "Oh, we'll see to that when we
get into my Lord of York's house. Masses must be plenty there. And I
must see Smallbones floor the