Stephen, though not yet formally bound, was to enter on his apprentice life at once; and Ambrose was assured by Master Headley that it was of no use to repair to any of the dignified clergy of Saint Paul's before mid-day, and that he had better employ the time in writing to his elder brother respecting the fee. Materials were supplied to him, and he used them so as to do credit to the monks of Beaulieu, in spite of little Dennet spending every spare moment in watching his pen as if he were performing some cabalistic operation. He was a long time about it. There were two letters to write, and the wording of them needed to be very careful, besides that the old court hand took more time to frame than the Italian current hand, and even thus, when dinner-time came, at ten o'clock, the household was astonished to find that he had finished all that regarded Stephen, though he had left the letters open, until his own venture should have been made. Stephen flung himself down beside his brother hot and panting, shaking his shoulder-blades and declaring that his arms felt ready to drop out. He had been turning a grindstone ever since six o'clock. The two new apprentices had been set on to sharpening the weapon points as all that they were capable of, and had been bidden by Smallbones to turn and hold alternately, but "that oaf Giles Headley," said Stephen, "never ground but one lance, and made me go on turning, threatening to lay the butt about mine ears if I slacked." "The lazy lubber!" cried Ambrose. "But did none see thee, or couldst not call out for redress?" "Thou art half a wench thyself, Ambrose, to think I'd complain. Besides, he stood on his rights as a master, and he is a big fellow." "That's true," said Ambrose, "and he might make it the worse for thee." "I would I were as big as he," sighed Stephen, "I would soon show him which was the better man." Perhaps the grinding match had not been as unobserved as Stephen fancied, for on returning to work, Smallbones, who presided over all the rougher parts of the business, claimed them both. He set Stephen to stand by him, sort out and hand him all the rivets needed for a suit of proof armour that hung on a frame, while he required Giles to straighten bars of iron heated to a white heat. Ere long Giles called out for Stephen to change places, to which Smallbones coolly replied, "Turnabout is the rule here, master." "Even so," replied Giles, "and I have been at work like this long enough, ay, and too long!" "Thy turn was a matter of three hours this morning," replied Kit--not coolly, for nobody was cool in his den, but with a brevity which provoked a laugh. "I shall see what my cousin the master saith!" cried Giles, in great wrath. "Ay, that thou wilt," returned Kit, "if thou dost loiter over thy business, and hast not those bars ready when called for." "He never meant me to be put on work like this, with a hammer that breaks mine arm."