“The other men would be more like to come to Hugh than Hugh to go to them, holy sir,” put in Elyas.
The canon, indeed, could scarcely believe his eyes. He made the young man show more of his carving, heard something of his father’s skill, to all of which he had hitherto turned a deaf ear, and departed, ready to do battle for Hugh against any who spoke a disparaging word.
“There goes thy most persistent opponent,” said Elyas, coming back and rubbing his hands in glee; “’twas all I could do to bring him here, and he grumbled the whole way about putting work into inexperienced hands, and I know not what! Now to-morrow, Hugh, Ned Parsons will have finished his blocking out for me, and I will set him to thine. I shall give thee the first pillar in the choir on the opposite side to mine own. It is not so well in view as some of the others, but that should make no difference in its fairness. And here is Joan to be told the news.”
Joan shook her wise little head over it, and opined that now Hugh would be worse than ever in neither eating nor sleeping. But it was not so. He was very quiet all that day, and when work was over he and Joan set off for the Cathedral that he might look upon his pillar—with what longing eyes!—and picture it again and again to himself as it should be.
“And there is father’s—shaped,” said Joan; “how long and slender it looks! I do hope that his will be the most beautiful of all, because he is older, and because you have all learnt from him, and because—he is father and there is no one like him!”
“No fear!” said Hugh. “I have seen his designs. Not one of us can overpass him.”
“Mother is not easy about him, either,” said Joan, who had sat down and clasped her hands round her knees. “He has pains in his head and dizziness, and he will not have the leech because he says he talks so foolishly about Mars and Venus, and father says he does not believe the planets have aught to do with us. Dost thou think they have?”
“I know not,” said Hugh unheeding. “Joan, hast thou heard where Roger’s is to be?”
“On the same side with father’s, and Wat opposite, and Franklyn between thee and Wat. Tell me once again how thine ivy is to curl.”
From one cause or another there was a slight delay in the preparation of Hugh’s block. Something hindered Ned Parsons, or he was slower in his work, or kept Mid-Lent too jovially; at any rate there was a check which seemed very terrible to Hugh, and Roger and Wat were both at work before him. Wat intended to carry out a bold design of leaf and fruit, but he vowed that something grotesque there must be, and if he might not put Agrippa there, he should have a neighbour’s dog which had shown a great liking for him. It must be owned that Wat was of a somewhat fickle disposition, his fancy for angels and lily-bearing maidens was over, and Mistress Thomasin was betrothed to a rich burgess. It seemed likely that he would lose his heart and find it again many a time before the final losing took place.