, handkerchiefs, and other articles, asking to be taken.
Montbleru saw his opportunity, and took them, but was much puzzled to
know where he could hide them. Once he thought of putting them amongst
the big copper pots and pans which were in the kitchen; then of hiding
them up his sleeve; but finally he concealed them in the hay in the
stable, with a big heap of straw on the top, and that being done, he
returned to bed and lay down by the side of Jehan Le Tourneur.

When the servant maid came back from the butcher's, she could not find
the shirts, at which she was much vexed, and she asked everybody she met
if they had seen them? They all told her they knew nothing about them,
and God knows what a time she had. Then came the servants of these
worthy lords, who expected the shirts and were afraid to go to their
masters without them, and grew angry because the shirts could not be
found, and so did the host, and the hostess, and the maid.

When it was about nine o'clock, these good lords called their servants,
but none of them answered, for they were afraid to tell their masters
about the loss of their shirts; but at last, however, when it was
between 11 and 12 o'clock, the host came, and the servants, and told
the gentlemen how their shirts had been stolen, at which news two of
them--Masters Ymbert and Roland--lost patience, but Jehan Le Tourneur
took it easily, and did nothing but laugh, and called Montbleru, who
pretended to be asleep, but who heard and knew all, and said to him,

"Montbleru, we are all in a nice mess. They have stolen our shirts."

"Holy Mary! what do you say?" replied Montbleru, pretending to be only
just awake. "That is bad news."

When they had discussed the robbery of their shirts for a long
time--Montbleru well knew who was the thief--these worthy lords said;

"It is late, and we have not yet heard Mass, and it is Sunday, and we
cannot very well go without a shirt. What is to be done?"

"By my oath!" said the host, "I know of nothing better than to lend you
each one of my shirts, such as they are. They are not as good as yours,
but they are clean, and there is nothing better to be done."

They were obliged to take their host's shirts which were too short and
too small, and made of hard, rough linen, and God knows they were a
pretty sight in them.

They were soon ready, thank God, but it was so late that they did not
know where they could hear Mass. Then said Montbleru, in his familiar
way,