A March on London: Being a Story of Wat Tyler's Insurrection — John Shaqi
A March on London: Being a Story of Wat Tyler's InsurrectionHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
General
A March on London: Being a Story of Wat Tyler's Insurrection
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
Tyler's Insurrection, 1381 -- Juvenile fiction
"Quite so, quite so. I own that I have thought but little about him,
for indeed 'tis rarely that I see him, and save that at times his
racket in the house sorely disturbs my studies, I have well-nigh
forgotten all about him. Yes, yes; it is, of course, high time that he
began his education, so that if I should die before I have completed my
discoveries he may take up my work."
The Prior smiled quietly at the thought of the sturdy, dirty-faced boy
working among crucibles and retorts. However, he only said:
"Do you think of undertaking his education yourself?"
"By no means," Mr. Ormskirk said, hastily. "It would be impossible for
me to find time at present, but when he has completed his studies I
should then take him in hand myself, make him my companion and
assistant, and teach him all that is known of science."
"But in the meantime?"
"In the meantime? Yes, I suppose something must be done. I might get
him a tutor, but that would be a great disturbance to me. I might send
him up to the monastery at Westminster, where the sons of many
gentlemen are taught."
"I doubt whether the training, or rather want of training, that he has
had would fit him for Westminster," the Prior said, quietly. "There is
another plan that perhaps might be more suitable for him. One of our
brethren is a scholar, and already three or four of the sons of the
gentry in the neighbourhood come to him for three hours or so a day.
Our convent is a poor one, and the fees he receives are a welcome
addition to our means."
"Excellent!" Mr. Ormskirk said, delighted at the difficulty being taken
off his shoulders, "It would be the very thing."
"Then perhaps you will speak to the boy, and lay your orders upon him,"
the Prior said. "He was in the village as I passed by, and I brought
him up here, very much against his will I admit. Then I gave him in
charge on arrival to your servitor, knowing that otherwise the young
varlet would slip off again as soon as my back was turned. Perhaps you
will send for him."
Mr. Ormskirk rang a bell. The housekeeper entered.
"Where is Andrew?" he asked.
"He is looking after Master Edgar, sir. His reverence told him to do
so, and he dare not leave him for a moment or he would be off again."
"Tell Andrew to bring him in here."
A minute later the old servant entered with the boy. Edgar was in a
dishevelled condition, the result of several struggles with Andrew. His
face was begrimed with dirt, his clothes were torn and untidy. His
father looked at him in grave surprise. It was not that he had not seen
him before, for occasionally he had noticed him going across the
garden, but though his eyes had observed him, his mental vision had not
in any way taken him in, his thoughts being intent upon the work that
he had reluctantly left to take a hurried meal.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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