“What dost thou with Long Will?”
There were no smiles now.
“Will Langland louteth not to such as thou.”
“Spy!”
“Spill 's brains!”
“Hath none, to come o' such errand.”
“To the river!”
“Ay, take him down Cornhill an he will!”
A brawny smith that had pushed his way inward at mention of Langland stood now in the forefront of the mob, eyeing Etienne.
“So ho!” he said, bracing his back for the nonce against them that would have rushed upon the lad; “so ho! Is 't thou, green meadow? Methought I knew thee.”