t Salisbury, served for a couple of years in the London workshop of his
kinsman to learn the latest improvements in weapons. This had laid the
foundation of a friendship which had lasted through life, though the
London cousin had been as prosperous as the country one had been the
reverse. The provincial trade in arms declined with the close of the
York and Lancaster wars. Men were not permitted to turn from one
handicraft to another, and Robert Headley had neither aptitude nor
resources. His wife was vain and thriftless, and he finally broke down
under his difficulties, appointing by will his cousin to act as his
executor, and to take charge of his only son, who had served out half
his time as apprentice to himself. There had been delay until the peace
with France had given the armourer some leisure for an expedition to
Salisbury, a serious undertaking for a London burgess, who had little
about him of the ancient northern weapon-smith, and had wanted to avail
himself of the protection of the suite of the Bishop of Salisbury,
returning from Parliament. He had spent some weeks in disposing of his
cousin's stock in trade, which was far too antiquated for the London
market; also of the premises, which were bought by an adjoining convent
to extend its garden; and he had divided the proceeds between the widow
and children. He had presided at the wedding of the last daughter, with
whom the mother was to reside, and was on his way back to London with
his godson, who had now become his apprentice.

Giles Headley the younger was a fine tall youth, but clumsy and
untrained in the use of his limbs, and he rode a large, powerful brown
horse, which brooked no companionship, lashing out with its shaggy hoofs
at any of its kind that approached it, more especially at poor, plump,
mottled Poppet. The men said he had insisted on retaining that, and no
other, for his journey to London, contrary to all advice, and he was
obliged to ride foremost, alone in the middle of the road; while Master
Headley seemed to have an immense quantity of consultation to carry on
with his foreman, Tibble, whose quiet-looking brown animal was evidently
on the best of terms with Poppet. By daylight Tibble looked even more
sallow, lean, and sickly, and Stephen could not help saying to the
serving-man nearest to him, "Can such a weakling verily be an armourer?"

"Yea, sir. Wry-mouthed Tibble, as they call him, was a sturdy fellow
till he got a fall agai