Here, boy, give me the bar."

The page placed it in his hand; and, setting his right foot upon the mark where the others had stood, he swung himself gracefully backward and forward on one leg, for a moment, and then tossed the bar in air.

So light, so easy, was his whole movement, that no one expected to see the iron go half the distance it had done before; but, to the surprise of all, it flew from his hand as if expelled from some of the military engines of the day, and, striking the ground full twenty paces farther than it had yet done, bounded up off the sward and rolled on beyond.

"Well delivered! well delivered!" exclaimed Sir Philip Beauchamp; and the men and boys around clapped their bands and cried "Hurrah!"

"I will send it farther or break my arm," cried Richard of Woodville.

"If you do, I will beat you by a toise," replied Hal of Hadnock, laughing. But they all strove in vain; no one could toss the bar within several yards of the stranger's mark.

"And now for a leaping bar," cried Hal of Hadnock. "Oh! there stands one I see by the trees. Away, Woodville! place it how high you will."

"I will beat you at that, n.o.ble sir," said young Hugh of Clatford, who was reported the best jumper and runner in the country.

"And should you do so, I will give you a quiver of arrows with peac.o.c.ks' feathers," rejoined the gentleman. "Now, take it in turns, I will leap last."

Sir Simeon of Roydon declined the sport, however, and Sir Harry Dacre stood back; but Clatford, and others of the old knight's retainers, took their stations, as well as Richard of Woodville; and the bar having been placed high in the notches, each took a run and leapt; some touching it with their feet, some clearing it clean.

Hal of Hadnock then gave a gay smile to his fair companions, with whom he had for the time resumed his place; and advancing at a walk, as if to put the pole up higher, he quickened his pace, at the distance of three or four steps, and cleared it by several inches.

"You try him higher, Hugh," cried Richard of Woodville, laughing; "I have done my best, good faith."

"Where will you put it?" asked the traveller, turning to the young retainer of the house.

"Oh, at the highest notch," answered Hugh of Clatford, lifting up the bar; "can you do that, sir?"

"I will see," replied Hal of Hadnock; "stand back a bit," and, taking a better start, he ran, and went over, with an inch to spare.

Poor Hugh was less fortunate, however, for though he nearly accomplished the leap, he tipped the bar with his heel, cast it down, and overthrowing his own balance, fell upon his face, amidst the laughter of his comrades. He rose somewhat abashed, with b.l.o.o.d.y marks of his contact with the ground; but Hal of Hadnock laid his hand kindly on his arm, saying,

"Thou art a nimble fellow, on my life. I did not know there was a man in England could go so near me, as thou hast done. Here, my friend, thy sheaf of arrows is well won," and he poured some pieces of gold into his hand.

The words were more gratifying to the good yeoman than the money; and bowing low, he answered, "I was sure you were no ordinary leaper, sir, for few can go higher than I can."

"Oh, I am called Deersfoot," replied Hal of Hadnock, laughing; "get in and wash your face; for you have done well, and need not be ashamed to show it."

Some other sports succeeded; but the stranger took no further part therein, resuming his place by Catherine's side, apparently greatly smitten with her charms. The weak, vain girl, flattered by his attention, gave way to all the coquetry of her nature, made her fine eyes use their whole artillery of glances, whispered, and smiled, spoke soft, and sometimes sighed; till the good old knight, Sir Philip, not the best pleased with his niece's demeanour, broke off the amus.e.m.e.nts of the morning, exclaiming, "To the ma.s.s! to the ma.s.s, sirs! It is high time that we were on our way."

The sports, then, immediately ceased; and pa.s.sing through the great hall, the court-yard, and the gates, the whole party, arranged two and two, walked on amidst the neighbouring wood towards the parish church.

Hal of Hadnock kept his place by Catherine's side, and Sir Harry Dacre followed with Isabel; but, somewhat to Richard of Woodville's annoyance, Sir Philip Beauchamp retained Mary Markham to himself, while his nephew and Sir Simeon of Roydon came after, neither, perhaps, in the best of humours.

The n.o.ble party found the church crowded with the villagers, every woman having her basket with her, covered with a clean white napkin, but apparently crammed as full as it well could be; and Hal of Hadnock remembered that, as his companion had said the night before, this was one of the days appointed for those festivals which were then called, Glutton ma.s.ses.

When the service was over, old Sir Philip advanced to leave the building with his household, not approving the disgraceful scene that was about to take place; but Hal of Hadnock whispered to his companion of the road,--

"Let us stay and see. I have never witnessed one of these feats of gormandizing."

"Well, we shall save the credit of the family," replied Richard of Woodville, in a low tone; "for the good priest looks upon my uncle as half a Lollard, because he will not stay in the church and eat till he bursts, in honour of the Blessed Virgin."

Hal of Hadnock and his new friend accordingly lingered behind; and hardly had the old knight pa.s.sed through the doors, when a scene of confusion took place quite indescribable. Every one brought forward his basket. Some who had lost their store, hunted for it among the rest. Some hurried forward to present, what they considered, very choice viands to the priest. Many a pannier was overturned; and chickens, capons, huge lumps of meat, and leathern bottles of wine, mead, and ale, rolled upon the pavement. One or two of the latter got uncorked, and the contents streamed about amongst the napkins, which several of the women were spreading forth upon the ground. Knives were brandished; thumbs and fingers were cut; one man nearly poked out the eye of his better half in giving her a.s.sistance, and was heartily cuffed for his pains; and a fat chorister slipped in consequence of putting his foot upon a fine trout dressed in jelly, and fell prostrate on his back in the midst. The people roared, the priest himself chuckled, and was a long time ere he could get his flock, or his countenance, into due order.

A song to the Virgin was then sung by way of grace; and every one fell to, with an intention of outdoing his neighbour. To Richard of Woodville and his companion were a.s.signed the places of honour near the clergy; and the priest, looking well pleased down the long aisle, literally enc.u.mbered with the preparations for excess, whispered to the old knight's nephew, with an air of triumph,--

"Well, I think we shall outdo Wallop this time, at least."

"Undoubtedly," replied Richard of Woodville, gravely; "but I fear you will think my friend and me no better than heathens, having brought nothing with us either to eat or drink."

"Poo! there is plenty--there is plenty," replied the good man, "and to spare. Eat as hard as we can, we shall be scarcely able to get through it; and it is fitting, too, that something be left for the poor. We will all do our best, however, and thank you for your help."

The onslaught was tremendous. One would have thought that the congregation had fasted for a month, so eagerly, so rapidly did they devour the provisions before them; and then they took to their bottles and drinking-horns, and when they had a.s.suaged their thirst, recommenced the attack upon the meat with renewed vigour.

Richard of Woodville, and Hal of Hadnock, had soon seen enough of the Glutton ma.s.s; and, at a hint from his companion, the former took an opportunity of whispering to the priest,--

"We must go, I fear; lest my uncle be angry at our absence."

"Well, well," said the worthy clerk, "if it must be so, we cannot help it; but 'tis a sad pity, Master Richard, that so good a man as the Knight of Dunbury, should be such a discourager of pious ordinances."

"It is, indeed," answered Woodville, in a solemn tone; "but all men have their prejudices; and you know, father, he loves the Church."

"Ay, that he does, that he does," replied the other, heartily; "he sent me two fat bucks last summer."

"Oh, yes, he loves the Church, he loves the Church!" rejoined Woodville, and gliding quietly down the side aisle, so that he might not disturb any of the congregation in their devout exercise of the jaws, he left the building, accompanied by Hal of Hadnock.

Both laughed as soon as they were out of the church; but the guest of Sir Philip Beauchamp soon fell into deep thought; and after walking forward for a little distance, he observed, "It is strange, how men are inclined to make religion subservient to all their appet.i.tes. What are such things as these? what are many of our solemn customs, but the self-same idolatrous rites practised by the ancient pagans, who deified their pa.s.sions and their follies, and then took the simplest means of worshipping them?--What can be the cause of such perversity?"

"The devil! the devil!" answered Richard of Woodville; "he who leads every one on from one wickedness to another; who first teaches man to infringe G.o.d's commandment, in order to gratify some desire, and then, as that desire grows fat and strong upon indulgence, first persuades us that its gratification is pleasing to G.o.d, and in the end makes us worship it, as a G.o.d."

"But yet these same good folks fast and mortify themselves at certain times," said Hal of Hadnock; "and then carouse and revel, as if they had won a right to excess."

"To make up for lost time," said Woodville; "but the truth is, it is like a man playing at cross and pile, who, when he has lost one stake, tries to clear off the score against him by doubling the next. We have all sins enough to atone for; and we play the penance against the indulgence, and the indulgence against the penance. Give me the man who always mortifies himself in all that is wrong; who fasts from anger, malice, backbiting, lying, and uncharitableness; who denies himself, at all times, excess in anything, and holds a festival every day, with grat.i.tude to G.o.d for that which he, in his bounty, is pleased to give him. But, after all, it is very natural that these corruptions should take place, even in a faith like ours. Depend upon it, the purer a religion is the more strong will be the efforts of Satha.n.u.s to pervert it; so that men may walk along his broad high-road, while they think they are taking the way to everlasting salvation."

"There is truth in that, good Richard," replied his companion; "but I fear me, you have caught some of the doctrines of the Lollards, of whom you were speaking."

"Not a whit," answered Woodville; "I am a good catholic Christian; but I may see the evils which men have brought into the Church, without thinking ill of the Church itself; just as when looking at the Abbey down yonder, I see that a foolish architect from France has changed two of the fine old round arches, which were built in King Stephen's time, to smart pointed windows, all bedizened with I don't know what, without thinking the Abbey anything but a very fine building, notwithstanding."

Although Richard of Woodville would not admit that any impression had been made upon him by the preaching of the Lollards, certain it is, that the teaching of Wicliff and his disciples had led men generally to look somewhat narrowly into the superst.i.tious practices of the day, and that the minds of many were imbued with the spirit of their doctrines, who, either from prejudice, timidity, or conviction, would not adopt the doctrines themselves. Nor was the effect transitory; for it lasted till, and prepared the way for, the Reformation.

In a thoughtful mood, both the young gentlemen proceeded on their way through the wood; and, on their arrival at the hall, found Sir Philip Beauchamp, and the rest of his family and guests, already seated at the early dinner of those days. The old knight received their excuses in good part, laughed at Hal of Hadnock's curiosity to see a Glutton ma.s.s, and insisted he should sit down and finish his meal with him.

"Had you been at Andover yesterday," he said, "you might have seen another strange sight: the Mayor sit in the stocks, and a justice on either side of him."

"Indeed!" cried Hal of Hadnock, seriously; "that were a strange sight to see. Pray, on whose authority was it done? and what was the crime these magistrates committed?"

"Good truth, I know not," answered Sir Philip. "A party of wild young men, they say, did it; and, as for the crime, it is not specified: but, on my life, it was justice, though of a rash kind; for Master Havering, the Mayor, has worked well for such a punishment; though, belike, the hands that put him in were not the best fitted for the office."

"I should think not, certainly," replied Hal of Hadnock, in the same grave tone, and with an immovable countenance; though Richard of Woodville, who had contrived to seat himself next to Mary Markham, on the other side of the board, gave him a merry glance of the eye, as if he suspected more than he chose to say.

When the meal was over, which was not speedily, Hal of Hadnock proposed to take his departure; but Sir Philip, with all courtesy, besought him, at least, to stay till the afternoon meal, or supper (then usually served at four o'clock), with the hospitable intent of urging him afterwards to spend another night under his roof; and, in the meantime, he promised to show him his armoury, his horses, and his library; though, to say the truth, the suits of rich armour were more numerous than the books, and the horses more in number than the people who frequented the library. Hal of Hadnock, for reasons of his own, accepted the invitation; and Richard of Woodville, though his approaching departure was already announced, agreed to stay, in order to bear him company when he went.

I will not lead the patient reader through all the rooms of the hall, or detain him with a description of the armoury and its contents, or carry him to the stable, and show him all the horses of the good old knight, Sir Philip, from the battle-horse, which had borne him through many a stricken field in former days, to the ambling palfrey of his daughter Isabel. Hal of Hadnock, indeed, submitted to all this with a good grace; for he was a kind-hearted and considerate person, and little doubted that his friend Richard of Woodville was employing the precious moments to the best advantage with fair Mary Markham. To all these sights, with the discussion of sundry knotty points, regarding shields, and pallets, and unibers, the properties of horses, and the form and extent of the manifaire, were given well nigh two hours; and, when Hal of Hadnock and his n.o.ble host returned to the great hall, they found it tenanted alone by Catherine Beauchamp and Sir Simeon of Roydon.