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had eyes for nobody else, and whenever opportunity offered (which was often, her lord'
being much occupied with his sport), the two whispered together and exchanged lovers'
glances.
"Holy saints! Did you ever behold such beauty?" Jan demanded of Morven, when
speech returned to him.
"Yes," she answered. "Many times. Is she a Jewess, think you?"
"That is not a Jew's yellow but some wondrous dye I've never seen before in all
my travels."
Had they but known it, the lady was, in truth, Irish, and the colour was saffron,
and being safely wed; seemed about to put into practice that proverb of her people which.
says, 'Nobody misses a slice off a cut loaf.'
"Were I her lord, I would keep an eye on Master Page," Thur added. "Nay, I like
not such tawdry gear in a man. Were he mine, I'd clout his ears soundly and teach him to
play in the tilt-yard. "
"And I," Olaf agreed, for he envied the fellow and longed to see himself in such
gorgeous array, though with a difference. He could not imagine his own locks so tortured,
or his manners either.
"I speak of the lady," Jan assured them, so earnestly that Thur laughed outright.
"Oh, her!" Morven ejaculated provokingly.
"Is she not a wonder?"
"A wonder of mischance, the swarthy hussy! Were I her lord she'd lie face down
across my knee to teach her where to look, and my hand should point the way."
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Thur burst into a guffaw at this picture, and Jan was offended at its crudity. They
rode on, the cry of the falconer in their ears, their eyes fixed upon two distant specks high
up in the blue, the one so rapidly overtaking the other. "Poor bird," sighed Morven. "I
know not which I pity most, the heron or the lord."
As they drew nearer to the city they encountered still more people walking in the
spring sunshine, and showing off their fine new clothes, bought for Eastertide. Though
there was great uniformity of style, for the cut of the cloth differed only from that of the
hawking party in length of points, they noted the diversity, richness and colour of
material, the beauty of design in embroideries and jewellery. The citizens of London
obviously were very wealthy and fond of display. Every apprentice and serving-wench,
romping and laughing on the broad grass verges of the road, sported bright ribands, or a
gaily embroidered badge of guild or master.
"Home will be a dull place after this jaunt," Jan lamented, as they rode through
Holborn. "I wish we had returned forthwith."
"Right about face then," cried Thur, and even Jan joined in the laugh, but he
consoled himself with an added determination to win back all his grandfather had lost.
He too would strut with the best ... one day, and, for the first time in his life Olaf too saw
what that loss, which he had hitherto secretly deemed unimportant, represented in terms
of living. His love of all things in nature, its life and beauty, its variety, had proved
themselves a compensation for discomfort and privation, which, without pondering on
them unduly, had seemed to him to be the common lot and therefore unavoidable. Now
he was being shown another side of life, which was typified in this rich and gay city. He
had imagined London to be but an enlarged version of their little home-town in St. Clare
... but how utterly different it was. St. Clare in Walden was dominated first by Church, as
represented by the great abbey but sixteen miles distant, and its satellites, the Chipley
Abbey and the priory of nuns just outside the town itself. Secondly it was in thrall to
Esquire Walter Upmere, henchman of Fitz-Urse. Under the combined exactions of
Church and feudal -lord, St. Clare was suitably sobered and subdued. The lord abbot was
an educated sensualist, seeking only his own ease and pleasure. Esquire Walter was
himself but a lout, rough, unlettered and undisciplined; part farmer and part soldier, but
wholly a robber, ruling the town with an iron hand in a glove of triple brass. He was
homely of appearance and not so well clad as Thur.
Therefore was their astonishment all the greater when the two Bonders realised
that their little world was but a grain of sand in an hour glass,
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like fifty other such towns scattered over the face of England. Whereas, in this great city,
dwelt the King and his nobles, and lived a life far beyond the conception of the lads and
their neighbours. Olaf felt that his native world was very narrow indeed, and here was
something very spacious.
They entered the city by Newgate, and the jollity and the independence of the
people obsessed Olaf to all else's exclusion. They appeared to care for no one, to fear
nothing, as though they had an equal right with the best to the riches which life could
offer.
When my lord abbot paid a visit to St. Clare, such townsfolk as were abroad lined
up and waited his passage with bowed heads before his upraised three fingers. If Esquire
Walter went abroad he had the street to himself, the townsfolk seemed to smell him from
the moment he decided to leave his stronghold until he returned, and scuttled into cover.
Only the brothers and soldiery laughed publicly and sang songs in St. Clare. Yet here was
a crowd of people thronging a narrow street along which a party was passing seeking an
inn, and coming towards them was a lady in her litter, escorted by her husband and
retinue of six servants marching before and behind, all clad in the gay, rich clothing
which seemed so common here. But instead of the crowd standing humbly to give
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