his knave get beforehand
with me. For, be Ludar alive or dead, I owed it to him to save the
maiden from the Captain, even if it cost me my life.

So, as I say, this vision of the passing of the purse woke me out of my
dream, and warned me that there was danger in the wind.

That afternoon, the same Providence which gave me the alarm put into my
way a means of acting upon it.

My master I found in a sore state of vexation because a certain book he
was printing, from which he expected some profit, was refused a licence
by the Stationers' Company. They liked it not, said the clerk, and had
sent it on to his Grace, who had other matters to think of, and was,
besides, away in Canterbury on a visitation.

At this my ears pricked.

"By your leave, Master Walgrave," said I, "here is a matter that
presses. If we get not his Grace's licence now, the occasion for the
book will be gone by. How if you let me go to Canterbury, to wait upon
him?"

Master Walgrave shrugged his shoulders.

"Have you forgot your last journey for me?" said he. "For if you have,
I have not."

"Oh," said I, rather sheepish, "I am older than that now. Besides, I
know what I go for this time, and have not my business sewn up in my
cloak's lining."

"'Tis bad weather for so long a journey," said my mistress.

"I heed not that," said I, like a hypocrite, "so I get my master his
licence."

"Beside," said Jeannette, who knew what was afoot, "Humphrey likes to
travel, and he pines, I know, to be freed a day or so from my apron
strings."

I vowed she wronged me there; but between us all, my master yielded and
said I should start next day to see his Grace.

"Nay," said I, "I will start to-night. There is no time to lose."

But they would not hear of that, and for fear of betraying myself, I
forbore to press it, and went betimes to bed, promising to be away
before daybreak on the morrow.

Early as I was next morning, Jeannette was astir to bid me God-speed and
give me my breakfast.

"Humphrey, _mon ami_," said she. "I should not grudge to see thee go on
so good an errand. Yet, I shall be glad to see thee home."

"Perhaps," said I, "it is all for nothing, and Ludar's maiden may be
safe from harm. Yet, something tells me she needs my help."

"You may tell that maiden," said Jeannette, "that I lend you to her; and
if she need shelter, she shall have it here."

I thanked her for that brave speech, and tore myself away. By dint of
hard