“Ay,” returned Wat, “pass. We others mean to find out who it is among us who filches designs, and cuts through ladders, and brings shame on all our body.”
Flinging a glance of rage at him, Roger pushed by, and Wat went off to meet the other warden, John Hamlyn, and to lay the complaint before him. Andrew’s presence and what he had himself experienced in the matter helped to make it serious, and the crime was sufficiently grave for the warden to promise that there should be a guild meeting to consider it.
“What evidence hast thou against Roger?”
“He hath done Hugh other harm, sir,” answered Wat after a pause. “He hath stolen his designs.”
“Take care, take care,” said the warden warningly, “these be grave charges. How knowest thou? Hast thou seen his work?”
“Nay, sir. Nevertheless I can prove it, if you will.”
“How then?”
“When the master was taken ill, Hugh’s designs were stolen, but I made Hugh draw them out again, and Mistress Prothasy hath them in her keeping.”
“But thou knowest not that there thou hast what Roger is working upon. Tush, man, these are but idle tales. Thou must bring better proofs.”
Wat was far more grave and sober than usual.