“When I heard them cry I ran down and flung it on the ground, and it is gone.”
“Gone! Oh, that thief Roger!”
“Thou thinkest so?”
“Thinkest? Who else? It was not I—nor Agrippa. Hast thou asked?”
“Ay, and he was very wroth.”
Wat doubled his fists and made several significant movements.
“That is what he has been trying for—to get at thy designs, thine or the master’s. How couldst thou be such an oaf?”
“Who could think of it then?”
“He could, at any rate. He would think how to push himself to the front if he had to do it over all our dead bodies. Say good-bye to thy design, friend Hugh!”
“Nay, I’ll not bear it,” cried the young man, angrily; “if he use my design I’ll proclaim it through the town. And he works fast, and will get the advantage of me, because the master will not spare me while he is so ill. Out on him, what can I do?”