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Anne was growing interested. This farm boy was gloriously unlike others of his kind that she had met.

"I'm the Lord's lost lamb," announced Pete."Oh!" cried Tilly.<024>
ONE:John Ball, whatever he may have felt, had too much good sense to weaken his ascendancy by making any acknowledgment. If he was the soul of the confederacyWat Turner, or Tyler, as we shall henceforward call him, was the body;he might inspire the thought, but Tyler must direct the physical movement: and, therefore, it was absolutely requisite that the smith should in himself set the wholesome example of being amenable to discipline. The monk, therefore, without further comment, began to ask of their capabilities, their resources, and arrangements; and it was finally agreed upon, after much deliberation, that Tyler should command the Kentish division, and Jack Oakley, or, as he now chose to style himself, Jack Straw (probably from the then custom of bailiffs wearing straws in their hats), the bodies that were to march upon London from Essex.
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FORE:Chapter 16Alice, as he expected, had caustic for him rather than balm.
FORE:"Ye may tell his grace," cried Rugge, "that I for one will never return to my dwelling until a charter is granted to make all cities free to buy and sell in.""By whom? Calverley?"
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FORE:He was eighty. He suddenly realised that, after all, he was old. He did not carry himself as erectly as he had used; there were pains and stiffness in his limbs and rheumatic swellings in his joints. His hair was white, and his once lusty arms were now all shrivelled skin and sinew, with the ossified veins standing out hard and grey. He was what Harry was always calling himself"only a poor old man"a poor old man who had lost his son, whom cottage women pitied from their doorstepsand be hemmed to them, the sluts!
"You'll never go sending our Harry to fiddle at fairs," said Mrs. Backfield."Bring a light!" called someone. A boy dashed up with a handful of flaming strawit blew out of his hand and flared away over the roof, scattering showers of sparks. A man yelled out that his shirt was burning. "Bring a light!" someone called again. Then someone else shouted"The constables from Rye!""I do not understand your one thing or your other thing;" answered Turner"but I know this, that we have paid the tax, and that we will pay it no morebut as for touching what belongs to the London folksI'll tell you what, if we do set fire to London, by St. Nicholas! if I see my own son Tom taking a penny's worth, I will fling him into the flames!"For though he did not care for Odiam he loved the country round it, and made a wonderland and a dreamland of it. He did not see in Boarzell Robert's tree-capped waste, though neither did he see his father's enemy and heart's delight. He saw instead a kind of enchanted ground, full of mysteries of sun and moon, full of secrets that were sometimes beautiful, sometimes terrifying. It seemed to have a soul and a voice, a low voice, hoarse yet sweet; and its soul was not the soul of a man or of a beast, but the soul of a fetch, some country sprite, that clumped, and yet could skip ... he[Pg 128] used to feel it skipping with him in the evening wind when the dusk made the heather misty round his knees ... but he knew that it danced heavy-footed round the farm at night, clumping, clumping, like a clod.

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