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"Two Londoners and a Frenchman?" said Lance, "I would take them in mine own hand. And as for my Lord Saville, as they call him, I heard word last night that he and all his men of gilded gingerbread that looked at an honest fellow like me, as if they were the ore and I the dross are all to be off this morning to some races, or such-like junketings, about Tutbury.
"Saw you Antony Babington?" asked Cis, raising her eyes to his face, but looking uneasy. "Twice, at Westminster, and again in Paul's Walk. Had you seen him since you have been here?" "Not here, but at Tutbury. He came once, and I was invited to dine in the hall, because he brought recommendations from the Countess."
Tutbury is known for some of its ancient customs, among them the annual bull-running. A minstrel band, after devotions and a long sermon in the abbey, had an excellent dinner in the castle, and then repairing to the abbey-gate demanded the bull; the prior let the bull out, with his horns and tail cut off, his ears cropped, his body greased, and his nostrils filled with pepper to make him furious.
Mary laughed joyously and triumphantly as she held it up. "There, mignonne! What sayest thou to thy token now? This is the first secret news I have had from the outer world since we came to this weary Tutbury. And oh! the exquisite jest that my Lady and Sir Ralf Sadler should be the bearers! I always knew some good would come of that suitor of thine!
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