Again Hob and Nob barked
joyously, and tried to spring on to the table to take part in the conflict.
Amid the general glee, the combatants rose and renewed the fight,
dealing blows thick and fast--for the bags were now considerably
lightened of their contents--until they were completely hidden from view
by a cloud of white dust.
"We cannot see the fray," remarked Henry; "but we can hear the din of
battle. Which will prove the victor, I marvel?"
"I am for Will Sommers," cried Bouchier.
"And I for Patch," said Simon Quanden. "Latterly he hath seemed to me
to have the advantage."
"It is decided!" cried the king, rising, as one of the combatants was
knocked off the table, and fell to the floor with a great noise. "Who is
it?"
"Patch," replied a faint voice. And through the cloud of dust struggled
forth the forlorn figure of the cardinal's jester, while Will Sommers
leaped triumphantly to the ground.
"Get thee to a wash-tub, knave, and cleanse thyself," said Henry,
laughing. "In consideration of the punishment thou hast undergone, I
pardon thee thy treasonable speech."
So saying, he rose, and walked towards Mabel, who had been quite as
much alarmed as amused by the scene which had just taken place.
Pages:
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347