York to learn
the perfection of his craft, completed his term and returned to his
home, much regretted in the Dragon court, where his good humour and good
sense had generally kept the peace, both within and without.

Giles Headley was now the eldest prentice. He was in every way greatly
improved, thoroughly accepting his position, and showing himself quite
ready both to learn and to work; but he had not the will or the power of
avoiding disputes with outsiders, or turning them aside with a merry
jest; and rivalries and quarrels with the armoury at the Eagle began to
increase. The Dragon, no doubt, turned out finer workmanship, and this
the Eagle alleged was wholly owing to nefarious traffic with the old
Spanish or Moorish sorcerer in Warwick Inner Ward, a thing unworthy of
honest Englishmen.

This made Giles furious, and the cry never failed to end in a fight, in
which Stephen supported the cause of the one house, and George Bates and
his comrades of the other.

It was the same with even the archery at Mile End, where the butts were
erected, and the youth contended with the long bow, which was still
considered as the safeguard of England. King Henry often looked in on
these matches, and did honour to the winners. One match there was in
especial, on Mothering Sunday, when the champions of each guild shot
against one another at such a range that it needed a keen eye to see the
popinjay--a stuffed bird at which they shot.

Stephen was one of these, his forest lore having always given him an
advantage over many of the others. He even was one of the last three
who were to finish the sport by shooting against one another. One was a
butcher named Barlow. The other was a Walloon, the best shot among six
hundred foreigners of various nations, all of whom, though with little
encouragement, joined in the national sport on these pleasant spring
afternoons. The first contest threw out the Walloon, at which there
were cries of ecstasy; now the trial was between Barlow and Stephen, and
in this final effort, the distance of the pole to which the popinjay was
fastened was so much increased that strength of arm told as much as
accuracy of aim, and Stephen's seventeen years' old muscles could not,
after so long a strain, cope with those of Ralph Barlow, a butcher of
full thirty years old. His wrist and arm began to shake with weariness,
and only one of his three last arrows went straight to the mark, while
Barlow was as stea