OW all these things are writ in the Chronicles,—as how the Inns of Court of the Temple was destroyed and records burned, and the Hospital of Saint John of Jerusalem at Clerkenwell burned, and prisons opened; wherefore this book needs not to tell.
So, when night was come and the people a little wearied of their wild work, Wat Tyler sent the squire to Richard to know what the King would do. For this thing was plain, that the most part of the people was loyal to the King, and minded to follow him and obey Calote's hest. And Wat Tyler, being wise, knew that if he would come at his goal, to rule England, he must stand for a little behind Richard's chair.
“Bid the King come to his own,” said Wat. “Thou and I and John Ball, we be as honest men as Salisbury and John of Gaunt and Simon the Archbishop.”
In the beginning the guard at the Tower gate was loth to hold speech with Stephen, but when he had given the word, and moreover thrown off his hood that his face was plain, he was let come in; howbeit there went a soldier at his side all the way.
When he came into the chapel, John Leg was there a-mumbling his prayers, and at sound of footsteps he screeched and ran up the altar-steps, For this John Leg was he that was leader of the poll-tax commission, and he dwelt hourly in great fear of his life.
Beyond, in a large chamber, were gathered together all those that had sought refuge in the Tower. The Queen was there, and her ladies, withdrawn to the dais and whispering. In the midst of the room, at a table, Salisbury sat, and Thomas of Woodstock, Earl of Buckingham, the King's uncle, and the Earls of Warwick and Suffolk, and Simon Sudbury the Archbishop; also Mayor Walworth was there, set twixt Salisbury and the Archbishop. Pages held torches nigh that they might the better mark one another's faces, for the chamber was of a great size and full of shadows. Within a window Robert Hales stood, looking out to north where was a red glare far off without the city; and he knew that this was his manor burning at Highbury. Sir John Holland and the Earl of Kent sat on the dais step with the ladies, but the King was not anywhere in the chamber. There was a young boy of haughty mien and frowning brow that paced to and fro, and anon he halted to listen by the table. This was Henry, John of Gaunt's son; and 't was he saw Stephen and cried out:—
“My lords, here 's Etienne Fitzwarine! Now shall we know somewhat.”
All those about the table turned and looked at Stephen, and the pages held their torches higher.
“Art thou for us, Fitzwarine?” quoth Salisbury. “Art thou come as a friend?”