“Yea, they know, and they grumble. Norfolk knoweth, and Cambridgeshire; and when we came through Dartford I sent messengers westward to stay the folk in those parts. Here they know it not yet. They will not tamely wait. I fear these Kentish men; and if they slip leash the rest will follow, whether we will or no.”
“Ah, well, if they will, they will! Give me now the names of the Norfolk gentry would cast in their lot o' our side.” He spread a parchment on the table and drew pen and ink from his penner.
“John de Montenay de Bokenham,” said Wat.
“Is 't so?” John Ball murmured, writing. “Methought he 'd come at t' last.”
“Thomas de Gyssing.”
“Anon.”
“Sir Roger Bacon.”
“Nay, I had his name long since.”
“Then thou hast all others,” Wat ended.
Calote, standing by the table, listened.