Hugh’s heart beat fast as he saw the men-at-arms clearing the way with no little difficulty.
“Hold thou on to my sleeve,” whispered the good-humoured jester, “and we’ll not budge.”
He was as good as his word, and as the king passed with a smile on his grave face, for he was touched by the fervour of his welcome, Hugh and his monkey were so close that Edward’s eye fell upon him. He was certain that he was recognised, for the king’s smile deepened, and he said something to the bishop, who raised himself in his stirrups to get sight of the boy. Nor was this all. The monkey attracted the attention of the suite, and a knight suddenly reined up his horse and bent down.
“Why, thou art the little varlet that was at Stourbridge Fair! I mind me now thy father spoke of Exeter. How goes it with him? Has he a choice bit of his work that I can take back to my lady? What, dead! Nay, that is sad, but he looked scarce like to live. Thou mayest come to the bishop’s palace, where we lie, and ask for my squire, John Wakefield, if thou wilt.”
He nodded and rode on, and Hugh was besieged by inquiries of who he was, and what had led him to speak.
“Sir Thomas de Trafford,” repeated the jester. “A fair name and an honourable. Prithee forget not a poor cousin, if there be preferment to be had. I would almost renounce my cap and bells to be dubbed a knight.”
But Joan overhead was clamouring for Hugh, and Prothasy’s curiosity was getting past bearing. She had never quite believed the boy’s story of the gold noble, but all had seen the king’s amused smile of recognition, and now she questioned Hugh sharply, while he was longing to be off with Wat, who was in the thick of the crowd which had closed up on the heels of the men-at-arms, and was following the king down the High Street, for to pleasure them he rode as far as the Carfax or conduit, the central point of the city, which stood at the junction of North and South Street, where much business was transacted, before going to the quarters prepared for him in the bishop’s palace. Hugh got away at last, but he was in the rear of things, and could get no nearer than the tail of the procession, every now and then catching the gleam of armour in the distance as some corner was turned, while the people were cheering and pushing with all their might, and gathering the largesse freely distributed.
Gervase came home in high good humour, for the king had received the guild officers very cordially, and promised a hearing for the next day, the townspeople having certain matters to plead against the clergy with reference to the walls of the close—a very fruitful source of dispute.
“’Tis a pity though, goodman, that the king is lodged in the palace where the bishop will have his ear,” said Franklyn.
“Pish!” answered Elyas. “Little thou knowest of Edward if thou thinkest him to be so easily turned! He will look into the affair and judge according to right. No favour beyond that need bishop nor mayor look for. But there is no doubt that the ecclesiastics are pushing their privileges as to right of way too far, and I wish there were as good a chance of getting Countess Weir removed, and restoring the navigation of the river.”