olsey's suite, to make inquiries at
Bruges. But Ambrose was found to have gone abroad in the train of Sir
Thomas More, and nothing was heard till their return six weeks later,
when Ambrose brought home a small packet which had been conveyed to him
through one of the Emperor's suite. It was tied up with a long tough
pale wisp of hair, evidently from the mane or tail of some Flemish
horse, and was addressed, "To Master Ambrose Birkenholt, menial clerk to
the most worshipful Sir Thomas More, Knight, Under Sheriff of the City
of London. These greeting--"

Within, when Ambrose could open the missive, was another small parcel,
and a piece of brown coarse paper, on which was scrawled--

"Good Ambrose Birkenholt,--I pray thee to stand, my friend, and let all
know whom it may concern, that when this same billet comes to hand, I
shall be far on the march to High Germany, with a company of lusty
fellows in the Emperor's service. They be commanded by the good knight,
Sir John Fulford.

"If thou canst send tidings to my mother, bid her keep her heart up, for
I shall come back a captain, full of wealth and honour, and that will be
better than hammering for life--or being wedded against mine own will.
There never was troth plight between my master's daughter and me, and my
time is over, so I be quit with them, and I thank my master for his
goodness. They shall all hear of me some of these days. Will Wherry is
my groom, and commends him to his mother. And so, commending thee and
all the rest to Our Lady and the saints,

"Thine to command,

"Giles Headley,

"_Man-at-Arms in the Honourable Company of Sir John Fulford, Knight_."

On a separate strip was written--

"Give this packet to the little Moorish maid, and tell her that I will
bring her better by and by, and mayhap make her a knight's lady; but on
thy life, say nought to any other."

It was out now! Ambrose's head was more in Sir Thomas's books than in
real life at all times, or he would long ago have inferred something--
from the jackdaw's favourite phrase--from Giles's modes of haunting his
steps, and making him the bearer of small tokens--an orange, a simnel
cake, a bag of walnuts or almonds to Mistress Aldonza, and of the
smiles, blushes, and thanks with which she greeted them. Nay, had she
not burst into tears and entreated to be spared when Lady More wanted to
make a match between her and the big porter, and had not her distress
led Mistress Margaret to ap