it may be the way would be
opened to study at Oxford or at Cambridge, so that thou couldst expound
the faith to others."

"Good Tibble, kind Tibble, I knew thou couldst aid me! Wilt thou speak
to this Master Hansen for me?"

Tibble, however, held that it was more seemly that Ambrose should first
try his fate with Master Alworthy, but in case of this not succeeding,
he promised to write a billet that would secure attention from Lucas
Hansen.

"I warn thee, however, that he is Low Dutch," he added, "though he
speaketh English well." He would gladly have gone with the youth, and
at any other time might have been sent by his master, but the whole
energies of the Dragon would be taken up for the next week by
preparations for the tilting-match at court, and Tibble could not be
spared for another working hour.

Ambrose, as he rose to bid his friend good-night, could not help saying
that he marvelled that one such as he could turn his mind to such
vanities as the tilt-yard required.

"Nay," said Tibble, "'twas the craft I was bred to--yea, and I have a
good master; and the Apostle Paul himself--as I've heard a preacher
say--bade men continue in the state wherein they were, and not be
curious to chop and change. Who knoweth whether in God's sight, all our
wars and policies be no more than the games of the tilt-yard. Moreover,
Paul himself made these very weapons read as good a sermon as the Dean
himself. Didst never hear of the shield of faith, and helmet of
salvation, and breastplate of righteousness? So, if thou comest to
Master Hansen, and provest worthy of his trust, thou wilt hear more, ay,
and maybe read too thyself, and send forth the good seed to others," he
murmured to himself, as he guided his visitor across the moonlit court
up the stairs to the chamber where Stephen lay fast asleep.

CHAPTER TEN.

TWO VOCATIONS.

"The smith, a mighty man is he
With large and sinewy hands;
And the muscles of his brawny arms
Are strong as iron bands."
Longfellow.

Stephen's first thought in the morning was whether the _ex voto_ effigy
of poor Spring was put in hand, while Ambrose thought of Tibble's
promised commendation to the printer. They both, however, found their
affairs must needs wait. Orders for weapons for the tilting-match had
come in so thickly the day before that every hand must be employed on
executing them, and the Dragon court was ringing again with the clang of
hammers and screech of