t, lads? Well, it may not be
the worse for ye. Pity thou shouldst not be in the Forest still, my
young falconer, but we know our good city of London too well to break
thy indentures. And thou--"

He was turning to Ambrose when further shouts were heard. The King
hallooed, and bade the boys do so, and in a few moments more they were
surrounded by the rest of the hawking party, full of dismay at the
king's condition, and deprecating his anger for having lost him.

"Yea," said Henry; "an it had not been for this good lad, ye would never
have heard more of the majesty of England! Swallowed in a quagmire had
made a new end for a king, and ye would have to brook the little Scot."

The gentlemen who had come up were profuse in lamentations. A horse was
brought up for the king's use, and he prepared to mount, being in haste
to get into dry clothes. He turned round, however, to the boys, and
said, "I'll not forget you, my lads. Keep that!" he added, as Ambrose,
on his knee, would have given him back the whistle, "'tis a token that
maybe will serve thee, for I shall know it again. And thou, my black-
eyed lad--My purse, Howard!"

He handed the purse to Stephen--a velvet bag richly wrought with gold,
and containing ten gold angels, besides smaller money--bidding them
divide, like good brothers as he saw they were, and then galloped off
with his train.

Twilight was coming on, but following in the direction of the riders,
the boys were soon on the Islington road. The New Gate was shut by the
time they reached it, and their explanation that they were belated after
a nutting expedition would not have served them, had not Stephen
produced the sum of twopence which softened the surliness of the guard.

It was already dark, and though curfew had not yet sounded, preparations
were making for lighting the watch-fires in the open spaces and throwing
chains across the streets, but the little door in the Dragon court was
open, and Ambrose went in with his brother to deliver up his nuts to
Dennet and claim her promise of sending a share to Aldonza.

They found their uncle in his sober array sitting by Master Headley, who
was rating Edmund and Giles for having lost sight of them, the latter
excusing himself by grumbling out that he could not be marking all
Stephen's brawls with George Bates.

When the two wanderers appeared, relief took the form of anger, and
there were sharp demands why they had loitered. Their story was
l