doubted whether she would readily respond to a summons, on
his own authority alone, to one looked on with so much suspicion as
Master Michael. Colet intimated his intention of remaining a little
longer to pray with the dying man, and further wrote a few words on his
tablets, telling Ambrose to leave them with one of the porters at his
house as he went past Saint Paul's.

It was broad daylight now, a lovely May morning, such as generally
called forth the maidens, small and great, to the meadows to rub their
fresh cheeks with the silvery dew, and to bring home kingcups, cuckoo
flowers, blue bottles, and cowslips for the Maypoles that were to be
decked. But all was silent now, not a house was open, the rising sun
made the eastern windows of the churches a blaze of light, and from the
west door of Saint Paul's the city beneath seemed sleeping, only a
wreath or two of smoke rising. Ambrose found the porter looking out for
his master in much perturbation. He groaned as he looked at the
tablets, and heard where the Dean was, and said that came of being a
saint on earth. It would be the death of him ere long! What would old
Mistress Colet, his mother, say? He would have detained the youth with
his inquiries, but Ambrose said he had to speed down to the Temple on an
errand from the Dean, and hurried away. All Ludgate Hill was now quiet,
every house closed, but here and there lay torn shreds of garments, or
household vessels.

As he reached Fleet Street, however, there was a sound of horses' feet,
and a body of men-at-arms with helmets glancing in the sun were seen.
There was a cry, "There's one! That's one of the lewd younglings! At
him!"

And Ambrose to his horror and surprise saw two horsemen begin to gallop
towards him, as if to ride him down. Happily he was close to a narrow
archway leading to an alley down which no war-horse could possibly make
its way, and dashing into it and round a corner, he eluded his pursuers,
and reached the bank of the river, whence, being by this time
experienced in the by-ways of London, he could easily reach Perronel's
house.

She was standing at her door looking out anxiously, and as she saw him
she threw up her hands in thanksgiving to our Lady that here he was at
last, and then turned to scold him. "O lad, lad, what a night thou hast
given me! I trusted at least that thou hadst wit to keep out of a fray
and to let the poor aliens alone, thou that art always running after
yon