Prentice Hugh

by Frances Mary Peard

cried Elyas angrily to hisfellow-warden. "I shall hear next that I have carved the _surs_ myself!Hugh shall show them what he can do when he has his next corbel tocarry out alone. I will not even look at it."

  "It is said that that he will not have," replied John Hamlyn drily.

  "Not? And wherefore?"

  "The judges maintain it should be given to one whose corbel has beensolely his own work. I have withdrawn from the competition, having muchto execute for my Lord of Pomeroy, and some say it should fall to thyman Wat, whose scratching dog is marvellously well managed, but, unlessI am mistaken, the greater part hold to another man of thine--Roger.His design is most delicately intricate."

  Gervase was greatly disturbed.

  "I would have had naught to do with the matter had I believed in suchunfairness," he said, with heat. "I would I had never asked the poorlad to give up his own work to do mine, nor hampered him with mydesign!"

  "Take it not so much to heart, goodman."

  "Nay, but I must, I must. 'Tis the injustice that weighs on me, andshame that Hugh should be served so scurvily. Roger! I shall speakpresently with the bishop."

  He redoubled his earnestness, speaking, indeed, with so much decision,that the bishop was impressed. But, as he said, the feeling among thejudges was very strong, and he did not himself believe that anythingcould be advanced that would turn them. There was, moreover, aconviction that Hugh was young enough to wait, and therefore, though adoubt might exist, they were opposed to giving him the benefit of thedoubt. Nor could anything which Elyas advanced shake theirdetermination. Something, it was true, was whispered as to an uglystory of a ladder, but the thing had never been proved against Roger,and except among the workmen had been forgotten. And the workmen werenot the judges.

  Ladders were now procured, and the corbels were minutely examined.Nothing, it was freely owned, approached the beauty of Hugh's, and noother exceeded it in admirable workmanship. If both design andexecution had been his, there could have been no question; as it was--

  "The obstinate fools!" growled Gervase, under his breath.

  Finally the workers were themselves admitted, Wat coming in eager andtriumphant, with the certainty that Hugh's success was assured, andRoger pale, nervous, glancing furtively from side to side, as if tryingto read his fate in the faces round. Wat strode joyously to Gervase.

  "Where is Hugh?" asked his master.

  "Gone off, sir, in one of his solitary moods. But Mistress Prothasy ispreparing a rare feast in his honour." Then, as he noticed Gervase'sgrave face, he stopped and stared at him.

  "Ay, Wat, it is even so," said Elyas, bitterly.

  "These wise men will have it that the _surs_ is my designing, and thatHugh hath but carved it. Heardest thou ever such injustice? I maytalk, and they pay no more heed than if I were--thy dog whom thou hastset up there. And, by the mass," he added kindly, "thou hast done himmarvellous well, and there has been a talk of thy having the othercorbel."

  "I would not have taken it," said Wat hotly.

  "I had rather it had been in thy hands than in Roger's."

  "Roger, goodman!" cried Wat, starting forward. "Not that traitor?"

  "Peace, peace! I am as grieved as thou, but we know not that he is atraitor."

  "Ay, by my troth, but I do!" Wat persisted, "and so shall they all.Where is Warden Hamlyn?"

  "Nay, I know not. It is not long since he was here," answered Elyas,surprised. "What hast thou in thy mad head? Bethink thee, Wat, we doHugh but harm to bring charges which we cannot prove, and though it wasa foul act to cut that ladder--"

  "It is not the ladder, goodman," cried Wat, earnestly. "Thou wast ill,and we did not tell thee of the other villainy. Hast thou looked atRoger's corbel?"

  "Ay," with surprise.

  "Is it new to thee?"

  "Nay, I seemed to know every twist of the ivy. But I thought--my memoryplays me scurvy tricks since my illness--I thought, though I could notcall it to mind, that Roger must have brought it to me to ask mycounsel. Surely it was so?"

  "Nay, goodman, when did Roger ask thy counsel? It was Hugh who broughtit to thee, and, knowing Roger's evil disposition, we were ever on thewatch against eavesdropping and prying. But the day thou wast takenwith thy sickness Hugh forgot it, and Roger stole the design. And now!But he shall not gain his end," cried Wat, fiercely. "Goodman, whereshall I be most likely to find Master Hamlyn?"

  "Go and ask his head man there. But what good can he do thee?"

  Wat, however, was already off, blaming himself bitterly that in theexcitement of the morning, and his undoubted certainty that Hugh wassecure of being first, he had omitted to remind the warden of what heheld in trust. To add to his dismay, he could get no tidings of JohnHamlyn. Each person he asked said he had been there but now, and mustbe somewhere close at hand, but he never arrived nearer, though hescoured the Cathedral from end to end, and brought upon himself a severerating from the precentor. Then in despair he rushed off to Hamlyn'shouse, where he met the warden's wife and daughter setting forth to findout what was going on at the Cathedral. Even in the midst of hisanxiety, Wat was suddenly seized with the conviction that MargaretHamlyn, with her dark eyes and her primrose kirtle, was the sweetestmaiden he had ever beheld, and she showed so much desire to help him,and was so very hopeful as to their finding her father, that before tenminutes were over he had not the smallest doubt on the matter.

  Nevertheless, nothing could be heard of Hamlyn. Wat met Joan, who hadbeen waiting and watching for Hugh until she could keep away no longer,and was come to seek Elyas with a little bundle tucked under her arm,from which she allowed a quaint wizened face to peep at Wat. Herconfidence that all was well for Hugh, and her pretty pleasure inbringing Agrippa to join in his triumph, were so great that Wat had notthe heart to damp them by telling her of the untoward turn events hadtaken; he only said impatiently that things were not yet settled, andthat Hugh was an ass to go and bury himself in the green woods insteadof coming forward with the others.

  "Do they want him?" asked Joan stopping.

  "Nay, I know not that they want him," returned Wat, "but he should bethere."

  "Then I shall go back and watch for him," she said resolutely. "Motheris busy with the supper and might not see him. I know where he is gone,and he must come in by the North Gate, and I will get the keeper to letme sit there and wait. I will bring him, Wat, never fear."

  But as the minutes flew and nothing was seen of John Hamlyn, Wat beganto wish that he had done nothing to draw Hugh to a place where he wouldonly find his own just meeds passed over, and evil-doing triumphant.Gervase stood apart from his friends; he was sick at heart, feeling asif he had been the cause of all that had happened to Hugh, from hisdesire to see his own designs carried out. Perhaps he had not yetregained his usual healthy buoyancy, for all looked black; he feltstrangely unable to influence those with whom his word had alwayscarried weight, but most of all he grieved for Roger's treachery.

  Presently there was a little stir among the knot of judges, andFranklyn, who was near them, came over to Elyas, and whispered--

  "It is all decided, goodman."

  "For Roger?"

  "Ay. It should have been Hugh's to my thinking, for the lad hathsurpassed us all. But they vow it is thy design."

  "Ay, they know better than I do," said Elyas bitterly. "See they arecalling him up."

  Roger, indeed, was moving towards the group with an air which had gainedassurance since he first came into the choir. The old master of theguild spoke in his quavering voice.

  "Of these carvings which have been placed here to the honour of God andHis holy Apostle, it is held that thine, Roger Brewer, is the mostcomplete. Thou art therefore permitted to undertake the carving ofanother corbel, and to make choice of which thou wilt for thyself."

  Somebody started forward.

  "Sir, it is no design of his; he is a false braggart, and stole it fromHugh Bassett."

  A great confusion arose, angry looks were
turned on Wat, and the bishopmoved forward and raised his hands.

  "Methinks, masters, you forget in whose house we be. That is a graveaccusation. Hast thou answer to make, Roger Brewer?"

  "Ay, my lord," said Roger, standing boldly forward. "I say it is a foullie, and that he is ever seeking to do me a mischief, and I demand hisproofs."

  "That hast thou a right to require. Where are the proofs?"

  "My lord, I have them not, but--"

  Roger broke in with a scornful smile.

  "Said I not so? You see, my lord."

  In his turn he was interrupted by a grave voice, "My lord, the proofsare here. I but waited to see whether he