“I thought—” began Hugh, and stopped.
“And how came you idle?” Elyas demanded more sternly.
“He ever gave me such foolish work! He would not hearken when I said I could do better!” burst out Hugh. “Master, only let me try, and you will see.”
“Perhaps,” returned Elyas. “But there are things that I value more, ay, and thy father would have valued more, than fair carving. Thou hast got thy life to shape, Hugh, rough stone to hew and carve into such a temple as the Master loves. All the best work that we can do with our tools is but a type of this. And what sort of carving was this rebellion of thine?”
He would say no more, being one of those who leave their words to sink in. But after, when he came up to see the boy, he would choose for his talk tales of men who had become great through mastery of themselves. And when he found how Hugh’s thoughts ran upon King Edward, he spoke of him, and how he had tamed that strong nature of his which might have led him into tyrannical acts, so that at whatever cost to himself he followed faithfully that which was right and just. And he told the story of how once, when he had been unjust towards an attendant, he punished his own hasty temper by fining himself twenty marks.
“This it is which makes him great,” added Elyas.
“And thou hast seen and spoken with him? The more need to follow him.”
“Saw you ever the king, goodman?”
“Ay, truly; ten or eleven years ago he and the queen held Parliament here at Christmas. Great doings were there, and it was then the bishop got leave to fence the close with walls. I like them not myself, they shut out the fair view of the western front; but after the precentors murder the chapter sought greater security. There is talk of the king coming again next month. If he does I warrant he will bring a sore heart, remembering who was with him last time.”
“And the queen was fair, goodman?”