A day ago we had fifty from the merchant." "And to-day," said one of the men, "I stopped a fat pardoner riding apace for Holywood.

Here is his purse." Ellis counted the contents.
"Five score shillings!" he grumbled.

"Fool, he had more in his sandal, or stitched into his tippet.

Y' are but a child, Tom Cuckow; ye have lost the fish." But, for all that, Ellis pocketed the purse with nonchalance.

He stood leaning on his boar-spear, and looked round upon the rest.