I thought the youth might now become cautious, and delay some days before again attempting to find a buyer. Nevertheless, I warned the stationers he had not yet visited to be wary, and promised to visit their shops each day to see did the scholar appear. I did, but he did not.
On the third day — it was Martinmas — I sent Arthur to enquire of the stationers in my stead and went to Holywell Street to seek Kate. It was a bright day. The sun only occasionally was lost behind clouds which scudded in from the north, driven by a brisk breeze. A good morning to walk the Cherwell, I thought. Kate agreed.
I spoke to her of my frustration. She did not immediately reply, but after we reached the stream and had walked silently for many paces she asked where it was I had last seen the youth when my pursuit failed.
"Just inside the Northgate. I saw him disappear before St Michael's at the Northgate as I tried to push through the throng which gathers at that place."
"If you were in danger of being apprehended for theft," she asked, "where would you go?"
"Some streets I knew well," I replied, "where I might dodge into some alley or press myself into a hidden doorway."
"Perhaps if we watched by the Church of St Michael the thief might travel past. Three days have passed. He may think he is safe, and so venture upon the streets. If that he lives near the church we might see and follow."
"We?"
"Four eyes are better than two," she laughed, "and twas me who found the broken thong in the grass."
This I could not gainsay. We walked the river to Trill Mill Bow, then returned through the Southgate to Holywell Street. I promised to call for her after dinner, and returned to Canterbury Hall with more sense of purpose than in many days.
None of the other stationers, Arthur reported, had been offered Sentences. I did not expect otherwise. I told Arthur of Kate's plan, and told him he would accompany us. Arthur had not seen the youth, but I had other work for him.
We finished our pottage and set off for Holywell Street as the bells of St Frideswide Priory rang for sext. Kate awaited me with sparkling eye, a courser ready for the chase.
A great, ancient tower stands before the Church of St Michael at the Northgate. Kate and I positioned ourselves against the north wall of this tower, just by the corner, where in conversation I might look past her toward the Northgate, and she might peer around my shoulder in the opposite direction down the Northgate Street. Arthur I sent to High Street, with instructions to watch for our approach. Did he see us appear from the north, he was to watch for the poor scholar we would follow and join the pursuit.
The youth appeared shortly after the bells of the Carmelite Friars rang for nones. I watched the Northgate while in conversation with Kate, but the youth did not appear there. He came from a cordwainer's shop across the street from where we stood.
Kate knew before she turned that I had seen our quarry, for I hesitated in the midst of conversation and she saw my eyes fix upon some distant prospect.
Together we watched the youth stand before the shop and peer in both directions before he set off toward the High Street. I did not think at the time to wonder why an impoverished scholar would visit a shop which sought the custom of the wealthy.
Kate and I walked behind the youth as he strode south on Northgate Street. We were able to lose ourselves among the passers-by, so the lad gave no sign he saw us.
I saw Arthur ahead, leaning against the corner of a goldsmith's shop. His location reminded me that I need make a purchase at some such place. Shortly after I spied Arthur he stood erect from the wall and nodded. I pointed toward the scholar, now but a few paces before us. I was some concerned that he might turn, see us in the throng, and take flight. But he did not.
Arthur fell into step behind Kate and I, and we followed as our prey passed Carfax and turned down Great Bailey Street toward the castle, then made his way down Little Bailey Street. There were fewer folk about on the street here. We dropped farther behind our quarry so as not to give notice of our presence.
The ragged scholar took no notice of us, or of any other upon the street. A few paces past St Ebbe's Church, but a short way from the Littlegate, he turned and disappeared into a tavern.
The Red Dragon is much like other taverns liberally sprinkled about Oxford. It is of timber, wattle and daub, two stories, with a thatched roof above. Did the youth enter the place for a cup of wine to quench his thirst, I wondered, or did he reside in the rooms under the roof? There was but one way to answer these questions.
I bid Arthur return to St Ebbe's Churchyard and make his way to the alley which ran behind the Red Dragon and the structures on either side of the tavern. I assumed there was a rear door from the Red Dragon opening to the alley, and assumed further that if the youth saw me enter the front door he might make for this alley and escape.
I gave Arthur time to place himself in the lane behind the tavern, told Kate to wait across the street before a taylor's shop, and entered the dim tavern. Several patrons sat upon benches, elbows on table, evidently enjoying both the wine and conversation. Most of the customers were students, but the scholar I sought was not among them.
The proprietor of the Red Dragon is a scrawny fellow. When he saw me enter he stood behind his table and reached for an ewer and cup, assuming I wished to quench a thirst. I had to disappoint him.
"The youth who just now entered, has he gone up to his lodging?" I asked, nodding toward the stairs which occupied a rear corner of the tavern. Such an assertion was a risk, but I thought it slight, and believed I would have more success with the master of the place did he assume I owned some acquaintance with the scholar I sought.
"Aye," he bowed, and placed the ewer back upon the table.
The tavern's upper storey held a dark, narrow passageway which ran the length of the rear wall of the building. Six openings opposite the wall indicated chambers of lodgers at the tavern. These openings were draped with cheap hempen fabric to close each room from those who passed in the corridor.
I moved silently from one curtained portal to the next, listening for sounds of occupation. At the third opening I heard footsteps, and a bench being drawn across the planks of the floor. I swept the hempen screen aside and found myself staring into the wide, frightened eyes of the lad I sought. I opened my mouth to challenge the youth about Master John's book, but he acted before I could speak.
There was a window in the wall of this cell, opposite its entrance, which gave opening to the street. It was but a simple frame, hinged upon one side, and covered with an oiled skin. The scholar leaped from his bench, flung open the window, and before I could speak climbed through it and dropped to the street. I ran to the open window in time to see him dash toward the Littlegate. Kate watched him run, then looked up at me. I shrugged in answer to the question in her eyes. I had found and lost my quarry.
There was little hope of catching the fleeing youth. For one who appeared ill fed, he showed remarkable heels when pressed. Light bathed the tiny chamber now the window was open. I examined the place, hoping to find Master John's book among the few objects in the place. I was disappointed.
The chamber was hardly wider than I am tall, and no more than five paces from window to hempen drape. In this space there was a bench, a small table, a bed, and a mean chest of shabby construction.
No book lay upon the table, nor upon the bed. I drew the straw mattress from the bed to see was the book hidden there. It was not. The chest had no lock. I opened it and found only clothing — a spare kirtle and braes and a gown more tattered than the one the youth wore.
What had become of Sentences? The lad had no book in his hands when he dove through the window. And what of the other books stolen from Master John?