'If you wuld nay stand over me shoulder and watch every move that I made, I wuld nay 'ave difficulty with this rope,' retorted the mason. 'Did nay Lord Darby give instructions to nay hoist this cap until 'e arrives from Calais?'
'To whom do you think that you are speaking?' the old priest responded impatiently. 'We 'ave waited long enuf indeed. Lord Darby delays 'is combing, so we will raise this cap todee.'
A small crowd of faithful parishioners had gathered to witness the capping of the steeple. They were excited to have a steeple that pointed heavenward. Each time that they looked up to it, they were reminded that they were to look to God. The steeple also seemed to make the church look larger and they felt that it raised the stature of the church in the towne.
After several hard days of riding, John was allowing his horse to walk into the towne. Even from a couple miles outside of the towne on a little rise, he could see the grand steeple. It pleased him to know that his father had brought something into existence that would last a thousand years. For most of the rest of the ride into towne his view was obscured by the thick trees that lined the road. As he neared the towne bridge, he came out of the trees and his view of the steeple was no longer concealed. He naturally looked across the bridge and over the towne walls to observe the steeple more closely. He was shocked to see a man at the top of the support scaffolding guiding a rope and at the end of the rope was the capstone.
John nudged the side of his horse sharply with his heals and the horse lunged forward. The sound of the horses' hooves on the cobblestones was amplified as it bounced off the sides of the buildings on the narrow streets. People in the streets hurried out of the way of the thundering horse and rider.
John stopped his horse at the base of the steeple and quickly dismounted. The people who had gathered started whispering to each other that the Alderman would not be happy to see that the old priest had not waited. The mason holding the rope that was being used to hoist the stone cross stopped and looked at John with a frightened expression. He expected that this powerful man would have words to say to him. He was relieved when John instead addressed the old priest.
'Did I nay leave orders that the capstone was nay to be raised in me absence?' queried John.
'Aye, me Lord,' replied the priest.
'Was I nay clear, then?' John pointedly asked.
'Aye, me Lord, you were clear. Boot, we feared that the approaching storm wuld delay you,' said the priest, pointing to the cloudy skies. 'And we expected that you wuld nay want the steeple to be left uncapped for another Sabbath.'
John was not happy and really didn't accept any of these explanations as anything more than excuses, but he was not in the habit of being disrespectful to a priest, even an old, stubborn one.
'Very well,' replied John with frustration in his voice, 'continue.'
John held the reins of his horse and moved backward across the street for a better view. The capstone was raised over the top of the steeple and then lowered into position. John was very satisfied with the result and was happy that he had been able to be there. It truly was a magnificent steeple and added beauty to the church and glory to God.
John mounted his horse and turned to go home. He had been gone for the better part of a month and so he was anxious to be home and to check on his mother. Just as he started, he heard, 'Alderman, me Lord.'
John turned in his saddle and saw the sheriff approaching on foot. 'Aye? Whot is it then?' replied John with a little irritation in his voice. He had just ridden several days on horseback and had almost missed an occasion important to him, the capping of the steeple, he had little interest in whatever it was that the sheriff had to say.
'Gud dee, me Lord.'
'Aye, gud dee. Whot is it? I am 'eaded for 'ome.'
'Aye, me Lord, we 'ave a prisoner that we 'ave been 'olding for your arrival.'