Prentice Hugh

by Frances Mary Peard

him--into talk of Jakes. It seemed as if he would put aside all that washarsh and painful, and he was either silent or--as the boy afterwardsremembered--let fall words which showed that his thoughts were with thewife he had lost, or dwelling upon some of the talks he had had withFriar Luke. Once or twice Hugh was sorely perplexed by what he said,fancying that he could not have heard rightly; but Stephen seemed unableor unwilling to repeat the sentence, and murmured something else. Oncethey fell in with a gay party going to a neighbouring castle; there wasa minstrel, and two or three glee maidens were of the company. Whenthey overtook Stephen and Hugh they were making a great noise andmerriment, and the boy wondered why, on seeing them, all their jestsdied away and they looked almost frightened. They made haste, too, topart company, saying they had no time to spare; and Hugh saw themlooking back and pointing as at some strange sight.

  He was beginning to be alarmed himself, though not knowing why, perhapschiefly because his father seemed to heed him so little, no longerasking if he were not tired, or noticing Agrippa's merry pranks, butriding bent upon the horse's neck, and seeming only to keep his seatwith difficulty. Hugh called gladly to him when he saw before him atown which he guessed to be Exeter, lying on a hill above the river,with the fair cathedral standing in a very beautiful position abouthalf-way up, and Stephen so far roused himself as to clasp his hands andto murmur, "God be thanked!" but with that fell back into silence.

  It was well that the road was plain enough to need no consultation; andpoor little Hugh, wearied out, for he had ridden but little of late,thinking it oppressed his father, struggled manfully on, hoping to getin before sunset. It was well, too, that the last mile or two was of atolerable flatness, and the road wider and less heavy, though alwaysbad; for Stephen grew more and more bowed, and Hugh became so fearfullest he should fall that he had to steady him as he walked by his side.

  Thankful he felt when he came upon a few scattered hovels while the sunwas yet some quarter of an hour from setting, at which time the towngates would be shut, and presently he saw the river running swiftly,swelled by the autumn rains, and spanning it a brave new bridge ofstone, with houses and a chapel upon it.

  "Father, father, here is Exeter!" cried Hugh, with anxious longing forsome reassuring word.

  But he got no answer, and not daring to pause lest the gates might beshut, he joined the throng of citizens who were pressing in for the samegood reason, and passed through the gate before setting himself to askany questions. The first person he addressed gave him a shove and toldhim to get out of his way; but the second, who by his dress and bearingmight have been some kind of trader, stopped at once, and havingsatisfied his own curiosity as to who they were and where they camefrom, showed himself of a most friendly nature.

  "We are in the Western or High Street," he said; "we have come throughthe West Gate, and the Franciscans have their house between this and theNorth Gate. But thou art a little varlet to have so much on thy hands,and thy father looks in a sore plight. A monkey, too! How far have youcome?"

  "Some sixteen miles, noble sir."

  "Nay, I am no noble; only plain Elyas Gervase. Sixteen miles, and ady--a sick man who can scarce keep on his horse! What doth he work at?"

  "He is a wood-carver, sir."

  "Why, that is somewhat my own craft, since I am a stone-cutter. Haveyou friends in this fair town?"

  "Father has a letter to the prior, and I am to seek out a cousin of mymother's, Master James Alwyn," said poor Hugh wearily.

  "The child himself is almost spent," muttered the good citizen tohimself. "Prothasy would make them welcome, and we are surely bidden toentertain strangers. Thou and thy father shall come home with me," headded aloud, laying his hand kindly on Hugh's shoulder. "My house isnigher than the monastery, and I will speak to a learned leech as wepass. Both of ye need a woman's care."

  If the boy was a little bewildered at this change of plan he could notoppose it, nor had he any desire to do so. There was something inMaster Gervase's honest face which instinctively inspired confidence.He was a man of about forty-five, somewhat light as to complexion andhair, his beard was forked, his eyebrows were straight, marking a kindlytemper, and his eye was clear and open. He wore an under tunic of bluecloth, with buttons closely set from the wrist to the elbow of the tightsleeve, tight pantaloons, and low boots with long pointed toes. Hishair hung a little below his ears, and was covered by a cap. He walkedup the steep Western Street by the side of the horse, passing his strongarm round poor Stephen's bowed form so as in some measure to supporthim, and he paused presently before a door, and sent in a boy to saythat Master Gervase prayed Master Miles to come without delay. A fewminutes after this they stopped again before a timbered house projectingfar into the narrow street. Without a moment's delay Gervase had liftedStephen from the horse, and rather carried than led him in.

  "Prothasy!" he called, the moment he was in the passage.

  "I am coming!" answered a voice, and, following the sound, a young womanran in, small, dark, bright-eyed, and scarcely more than a girl inappearance. "How late thou art, Elyas! And whom have we here?"starting back.

  "A sick man for thee to nurse. Nay, thou shalt hear more later, when wehave got him to bed. Wat! Where's Wat? Wat," as a lad hastilyappeared, "go out to the door and take the horse, and see that he hasgood food and litter. Send the boy that is there in here."

  It was evident that Prothasy Gervase was a capable woman. She asked noquestions, made no difficulties, but ran to see that all was right, andStephen, too much exhausted to be aware of what was happening, was gotinto his crib-like bed in a little room overlooking the street, andMistress Gervase had brought up some hot spiced wine and bidden Hughtake a drink of it before the doctor came. Then Elyas took the boy downto the common room, and asked him a number of questions. He was one ofthe burgesses who, by a recent law, was responsible for the good conductof twelve--some say ten--citizens, and would have to furnish an accountof the strangers, so that besides the call of natural curiosity, towhich he was not insensible, it was necessary that he should knowsomething of their history. He listened attentively to the story of theshipwreck.

  "And what brought thy father here?" he asked at last.

  "He thought," faltered Hugh, for his spirits had sunk low, never havingseen his father in such sore plight before, "that our cousin, MasterAlwyn, might help him to get work in the great church of St Peter's."

  "James Alwyn is dead," said Gervase, gravely. Hugh's face quivered. Heseemed more lonely than ever.

  "He died a year ago, come Martinmas. What was thy mother's name?"

  "Alice Alwyn."

  "I mind me there was one of that name lived out by Clyst. And--but Iwarrant me thou wilt say, ay--is thy father a good craftsman?"

  "There is no better work," said Hugh, proudly. "He will show it you,gentle sir, and you will see."

  "Ay," said Gervase, hesitatingly, "and thou wilt follow his craft?"

  "I would carve in stone," muttered Hugh, turning away that hisquestioner might not see the tears which sprang into his eyes. He wastired, and his heart seemed strangely heavy.

  "Sayest thou so!" eagerly. "Thou art right, there is nought like it.We must see what can be done for thee, perchance--" he checked himself.

  "I must talk with Prothasy," he added, under his breath.

  He was very good to the boy, leaving him to make a good meal while hewent out to meet the doctor, a gaunt, melancholy man, dressed in bluishgrey lined with thin silk, who spoke with bent head and joinedfinger-tips.

  "By virtue of the drugs I administered," he began, "my patient hathrevived a little, but Is in evil case."

  "How long will he live, sir leech?" demanded Elyas bluntly.

  "Scarce more than a few days. I am going home to prepare a cordial, andI shall cast his horoscope to-night, when I doubt not to find evilinfluences in the ascendent."

  "You may take that for granted without seeking to find out whether it isso," said the other, with a short l
augh. "However, let him want nocare. Will you be back before curfew?"

  The doctor promised and kept his word. By eight o'clock all lights wereout; Hugh was stretched on a rough pallet in his father's room withAgrippa, at whom Mistress Prothasy looked askance, by his side, and allwas silent, indoors and out, save for the quick laboured breathing ofthe sick man.

  CHAPTER SEVEN.

  IN THE WARDEN'S HOUSEHOLD.

  It was doubtless a satisfaction to the leech's astrological mind toascertain that, beyond a question, malignant conjunctions werethreatening Stephen Bassett. But without this profound knowledge it wasevident to the watchers that Master Gervase had brought home a dyingman, who