w," returned the Cardinal, "that one of these same hinds is a boon
companion of the fool's--_hinc illae lachrymae_, and a speech that would
have befitted a wise man's mouth."

"There is work that may well make even a fool grave, friend Thomas,"
replied the jester.

"Nay, but what hath this little wench to say?" asked the King, looking
down on the child from under his plumed cap with a face set in golden
hair, the fairest and sweetest, as it seemed to her, that she had ever
seen, as he smiled upon her. "Methinks she is too small to be thy love.
Speak out, little one. I love little maids, I have one of mine own.
Hast thou a brother among these misguided lads?"

"Not so, an please your Grace," said Dennet, who fortunately was not in
the least shy, and was still too young for a maiden's shamefastness.
"He is to be my betrothed. I would say, one of them is, but the other--
he saved my father's life once."

The latter words were lost in the laughter of the King and Cardinal at
the unblushing avowal of the small, prim-faced maiden.

"Oh ho! So 'tis a case of true love, whereto a King's face must needs
show grace. Who art thou, fair suppliant, and who may this swain of
thine be?"

"I am Dennet Headley, so please your Grace; my father is Giles Headley
the armourer, Alderman of Cheap Ward," said Dennet, doing her part
bravely, though puzzled by the King's tone of banter; "and see here,
your Grace!"

"Ha! the hawk's whistle that Archduke Philip gave me! What of that? I
gave it--ay, I gave it to a youth that came to mine aid, and reclaimed a
falcon for me! Is't he, child?"

"Oh, sir, 'tis he who came in second at the butts, next to Barlow, 'tis
Stephen Birkenholt! And he did nought! They bore no ill-will to
strangers! No, they were falling on the wicked fellows who had robbed
and slain good old Master Michael, who taught our folk to make the only
real true Damascus blades welded in England. But the lawyers of the
Inns of Court fell on them all alike, and have driven them off to
Newgate, and poor little Jasper Hope too. And Alderman Mundy bears ill-
will to Giles. And the cruel Duke of Norfolk and his men swear they'll
have vengeance on the Cheap, and there'll be hanging and quartering this
very morn. Oh! your Grace, your Grace, save our lads! for Stephen saved
my father."

"Thy tongue wags fast, little one," said the King, good-naturedly, "with
thy Stephen and thy Giles. Is this same Stephen, the knight o