When such things happened,
and discourses like Beale's were heard, it was not surprising that
Ambrose's faith in the clergy as guides received severe shocks.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

MAY EVE.

"The rich, the poor, the old, the young,
Beyond the seas though born and bred,
By prentices they suffered wrong,
When armed thus they gather'd head."
_Ill May Day_.

May Eve had come, and little Dennet Headley was full of plans for going
out early with her young play-fellows to the meadow to gather May dew in
the early morning, but her grandmother, who was in bed under a heavy
attack of rheumatism, did not like the reports brought to her, and
deferred her consent to the expedition.

In the afternoon there were tidings that the Lord Mayor, Sir Thomas
Rest, had been sent for to my Lord Cardinal, who just at this time,
during the building at York House, was lodging in his house close to
Temple Bar. Some hours later a message came to Master Alderman Headley
to meet the Lord Mayor and the rest of the Council at the Guildhall. He
shook himself into his scarlet gown, and went off, puffing and blowing,
and bidding Giles and Stephen take heed that they kept close, and ran
into no mischief.

But they agreed, and Kit Smallbones with them, that there could be no
harm in going into the open space of Cheapside and playing out a match
with bucklers between Giles and Wat Ball, a draper's prentice who had
challenged him. The bucklers were huge shields, and the weapons were
wooden swords. It was an exciting sport, and brought out all the youths
of Cheapside in the summer evening, bawling out encouragement, and
laying wagers on either side. The curfew rang, but there were special
privileges on May Eve, and the game went on louder than ever.

There was far too much noise for any one to hear the town crier, who
went along jingling his bell, and shouting, "O yes! O yes! O yes! By
order of the Lord Mayor and Council, no householder shall allow any one
of his household to be abroad beyond his gate between the hours of nine
o'clock at night and seven in the morning," or if any of the outermost
heard it, as did Ambrose who was on his way home to his night quarters,
they were too much excited not to turn a deaf ear to it.

Suddenly, however, just as Giles was preparing for a master-stroke, he
was seized roughly by the shoulder and bidden to give over. He looked
round. It was an alderman, not his master, but Sir John Mundy, an