“'T is a friend of my father's,” said Calote to Stephen. “I will go into the city with him. Fare thee well!”
“I 'll go also,” Stephen made answer; but she would not have it so.
“Thy place is with the King,” she said. “Go learn him of this new sin; how men defile churches in his name!”
And to Jack Straw, on the homeward way, she would say nothing but:—
“Prate to me not of thy plot, and thy Rising! I 've no faith in thee, nor any man. The people is afraid to rise; all 's words. O me, alas! 'T is now a year, and am I gone on pilgrimage to rouse the people? Do not the great lords slay and steal as they have ever done? Do not the people starve? Ye are afeared to rise up; afeared of the Duke and his retainers. Poor men are cowards.”
“I would have sent thee forth six months agone,” said Jack Straw, soothing her; “but Wat would not. Patience, mistress!”
And a month after, Jack Straw came to Calote and told her the time was nigh.
“The Parliament meets in Gloucester next month,” he said; “for that the quarrel 'twixt the King and the monks of Westminster is not yet healed, and the church is not re-consecrate since the sacrilege.—Now the people will see the King as he goeth on his progress to Gloucester, and this is well. They will see his face and know him in many shires and hundreds. Their hearts will be warmed to him. Do thou follow and get thy token from him, and they 'll believe thee the more readily that thou art seen about Gloucester and those villages in that same time. But have a care not to speak thy message till Parliament is dissolved and the knights returned home; only do thou be seen here and there.”
“When do I go?” asked Calote, trembling.
“I have a friend, a peddler and his wife, that go about in a little cart. They 'll be like to follow in the tail of the King's retinue, for the better protection. Meanwhile, an thou 'rt wise, thou wilt not mingle lightly with the King's household; but with the peasants in the villages 't is another matter.”