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rest between cuts.' Richard thought about that, but could never figure it out.

The three of them would start at the lower end of the field and would work as a team, always working around the field to the left. The stalks were easier to cut when they were slightly damp, so if a light rain fell, they would likely cut all day. If a light rain did not fall, or if too much rain started falling, they would stop and collect the cut stalks into a stack.

Despite the fact that they worked in close proximity to each other and as a team, there was little speaking when they worked. This left long hours to just think. Richard thought of anything but farming. Today, his thoughts alternated between the marvelous glass work that he had seen and the girls that were at the worship service the day before.

It was a little after the noon meal that they saw two riders on horseback coming their way across the freshly cut field. Geva saw them first. 'Luk, over there. It luks like the Darby's are combin'.' She straightened her skirt and hair a little in anticipation. She had long fancied John Darby, the son, but it was never clear that he had taken any real notice of her.

John Darby was a gentlemen and when he wanted to speak to a commoner, the commoner had better take notice.

John Darby and his son, John, rode right up to the Easton's. The son lighted off his horse and walked over to Richard. The father remained on his horse to address Lind.

'Lind Easton, I 'ave comb to discuss a matter with you.'

'Whot is it then, Lord Darby?' queried Lind.

'I 'ear that your boy there wants to be a glazier and I 'ave comb to tell you that I 'ave paid for his apprenticeship.'

Lind tried to protest, but John Darby would not hear it. 'I 'ave already spoken with the Master Glazier at the shoppe in Stamford and it is all set'eld,' proclaimed John Darby.

Lind had been leaning on his sithe, but now let it fall to the ground. He was not happy about John Darby meddling in his family's affairs, but was powerless to do anything about it.

'When does 'e start?' questioned Lind.

'In a munth next,' was the reply.

'I am grateful to you. God speed,' Lind said through his gritted teeth.

Richard and John, the son, were standing a few paces off during this exchange. John shared with Richard the good news of the apprenticeship and Richard was thrilled with the news. Then John asked Richard whether he knew that Lind and Gleda were not his parents.

'Do nay be daft,' said Richard, 'Of course, they are me parents.'

'Nay, they are nay your parents,' insisted John, 'Me mum said so yesterdee.' Richard refused to believe him and was getting agitated.

'Luk at Geva, your supposed twin. She has auburn 'air and your 'air is dark.' Richard looked. Of course, he had already noticed that. 'Luk at your father and mother and Bromley,' urged John. 'They all 'ave auburn 'air.'

'Also, 'ow is it that you are already taller than your father?' Richard began to see his family differently and it was suddenly too much to take in.

'I think that you best be going,' demanded Richard and he went back to cutting the grain.

The Darby's rode away and the Easton's were left to their work again. Nothing was said more concerning the matter until they had finished for the day and were back at the cottage.

'So, you will be a glazier after all,' said Lind with a little accusation in his voice. He suspected that Richard had asked the Darby's to help him secure the apprenticeship.

'Richard, me luv, whot is wrong?' asked Gleda, noticing Richard's countenance.

'John told me todee that you are nay me parents. 'ow culd you keep that secret from me all of these years?'

'Sone, it makes no difference who you are. We luv you. Is that nay right, Lind?'

'Of course, that is right,' said Lind, but the realization that they should probably have told Richard the truth and also news of the apprenticeship had shaken his emotions. He left the cottage and went out into the night.

Richard