ed gold coin as the lid; but no letter with them, as indeed Hal
Randall had never been induced to learn to read or write. Master
Birkenholt looked doubtfully at the tokens and hoped Hal had come
honestly by them; but his wife had thoroughly imbued her sons with the
belief that Uncle Hal was shining in his proper sphere, where he was
better appreciated than at home. Thus their one plan was to go to
London to find Uncle Hal, who was sure to put Stephen on the road to
fortune, and enable Ambrose to become a great scholar, his favourite
ambition.

His gifts would, as Ambrose observed, serve them as tokens, and with the
purpose of claiming them, they re-entered the hall, a long low room,
with a handsome open roof, and walls tapestried with dressed skins,
interspersed with antlers, hung with weapons of the chase. At one end
of the hall was a small polished barrel, always replenished with beer,
at the other a hearth with a wood fire constantly burning, and there was
a table running the whole length of the room; at one end of this was
laid a cloth, with a few trenchers on it, and horn cups, surrounding a
barley loaf and a cheese, this meagre irregular supper being considered
as a sufficient supplement to the funeral baked meats which had abounded
at Beaulieu. John Birkenholt sat at the table with a trencher and horn
before him, uneasily using his knife to crumble, rather than cut, his
bread. His wife, a thin, pale, shrewish-looking woman, was warming her
child's feet at the fire, before putting him to bed, and an old woman
sat spinning and nodding on a settle at a little distance.

"Brother," said Stephen, "we have thought on what you said. We will put
our stuff together, and if you will count us out our portions, we will
be afoot by sunrise to-morrow."

"Nay, nay, lad, I said not there was such haste; did I, mistress
housewife?"--(she snorted); "only that thou art a well-grown lusty
fellow, and 'tis time thou wentest forth. For thee, Ambrose, thou
wottest I made thee a fair offer of bed and board."

"That is," called out the wife, "if thou wilt make a fair scholar of
little Will. 'Tis a mighty good offer. There are not many who would
let their child be taught by a mere stripling like thee!"

"Nay," said Ambrose, who could not bring himself to thank her, "I go
with Stephen, mistress; I would in end my scholarship ere I teach."

"As you please," said Mistress Maud, shrugging her shoulders, "only
never say that a f