please the saints to send him, should be entirely spent in masses for
the soul of Martin Fulford. This tribute apparently stilled both grief
and remorse, for looking up at the grotesque figure of Randall, he said,
"Methought they told me, master son, that you were in the right quarters
for beads and masses and all that gear--a varlet of Master Butcher-
Cardinal's, or the like-but mayhap 'twas part of your fooling."

"Not so," replied Randall. "'Tis to the Cardinal that I belong,"
holding out his sleeve, where the scarlet hat was neatly worked, "and
I'll brook no word against his honour."

"Ho! ho! Maybe you looked to have the hat on your own head," quoth
Fulford, waxing familiar, "if your master comes to be Pope after his own
reckoning. Why, I've known a Cardinal get the scarlet because an ape
had danced on the roof with him in his arms!"

"You forget! I'm a wedded man," said Randall, who certainly, in private
life, had much less of the buffoon about him than his father-in-law.

"_Impedimentum_ again," whistled the knight. "Put a halter round her
neck, and sell her for a pot of beer."

"I'd rather put a halter round my own neck for good and all," said Hal,
his face reddening; but among other accomplishments of his position, he
had learnt to keep his temper, however indignant he felt.

"Well--she's a knight's daughter, and preferments will be plenty.
Thou'lt make me captain of the Pope's guard, fair son--there's no post I
should like better. Or I might put up with an Italian earldom or the
like. Honour would befit me quite as well as that old fellow, Prosper
Colonna; and the Badgers would well become the Pope's scarlet and yellow
liveries."

The Badgers, it appeared, were in camp not far from Gravelines, whence
the Emperor was watching the conference between his uncle-in-law and his
chief enemy; and thence Fulford, who had a good many French
acquaintance, having once served under Francis the First, had come over
to see the sport. Moreover, he contrived to attach himself to the
armourer's party, in a manner that either Alderman Headley himself, or
Tibble Steelman, would effectually have prevented; but which Kit
Smallbones had not sufficient moral weight to hinder, even if he had had
a greater dislike to being treated as a boon companion by a knight who
had seen the world, could appreciate good ale, and tell all manner of
tales of his experiences.

So the odd sort of kindred that the captain chose to clai