The Cloister and the Hearth: A Tale of the Middle Ages

by Charles Reade

  CHAPTER LVI

  WHEN she recovered, her head was on Catherine's arm, and the honest halfof the family she had invaded like a foe stood round her uttering roughhomely words of encouragement, especially Giles, who roared at her thatshe was not to take on like that. "Gerard was alive and well, or hecould not have writ this letter, the biggest mankind had seen as yet,and," as he thought, "the beautifulest, and most moving, and smallestwrit."

  "Ay, good Master Giles," sighed Margaret feebly, "he _was_ alive. Buthow know I what hath since befallen him? Oh, why left he Holland to goamong strangers fierce as lions? And why did I not drive him from mesooner than part him from his own flesh and blood? Forgive me, you thatare his mother!"

  And she gently removed Catherine's arm, and made a feeble attempt toslide off the chair on to her knees, which, after a brief struggle withsuperior force ended in her finding herself on Catherine's bosom. ThenMargaret held out the letter to Eli, and said faintly but sweetly, "Iwill trust it from my hand now. In sooth, I am little fit to read anymore--and--and--loth to leave my comfort:" and she wreathed her otherarm round Catherine's neck.

  "Read thou, Richart," said Eli; "thine eyes be younger than mine."

  Richart took the letter. "Well," said he, "such writing saw I never. Awriteth with a needle's point; and clear to boot. Why is he not in mycounting-house at Amsterdam instead of vagabonding it out yonder?"

  "When I came to myself I was seated in the litter, and my good merchantholding of my hand. I babbled I know not what, and then shuddered awhilein silence. He put a horn of wine to my lips."

  _Catherine._] "Bless him! bless him!"

  _Eli._] "Whist!"

  "And I told him what had befallen. He would see my leg. It was sprainedsore, and swelled at the ankle; and all my points were broken, as Icould scarce keep up my hose; and I said, 'Sir, I shall be but a burdento you, I doubt, and can make you no harmony now; my poor psaltery it isbroken;' and I did grieve over my broken music, companion of so manyweary leagues. But he patted me on the cheek, and bade me not fret; alsohe did put up my leg on a pillow, and tended me like a kind father.

  "_January 14._--I sit all day in the litter, for we are pushing forwardwith haste, and at night the good kind merchant sendeth me to bed, andwill not let me work. Strange! whene'er I fall in with men like fiends,then the next moment God still sendeth me some good man or woman, lest Ishould turn away from human kind. Oh, Margaret! how strangely mixed theybe, and how old I am by what I was three months agone! And lo! if goodMaster Fugger hath not been and bought me a psaltery."

  _Catherine._] "Eli, my man, an yon merchant comes our way let us buy ahundred ells of cloth of him, and not higgle."

  _Eli._] "That will I, take your oath on't!"

  While Richart prepared to read, Kate looked at her mother, and with afaint blush drew out the piece of work from under her apron, and sewed,with head depressed a little more than necessary. On this her motherdrew a piece of work out of her pocket, and sewed too, while Richartread. Both the specimens these sweet surreptitious creatures now firstexposed to observation were babies' caps, and more than half finished,which told a tale. Horror! they were like little monk's cowls in shapeand delicacy.

  "_January 12._--Laid up in the litter, and as good as blind, but,halting to bait, Lombardy plains burst on me. Oh, Margaret! a landflowing with milk and honey; all sloping plains, goodly rivers, jocundmeadows, delectable orchards, and blooming gardens; and, though winter,looks warmer than poor beloved Holland at midsummer, and makes thewanderer's face to shine and his heart to leap for joy to see earth sokind and smiling. Here be vines, cedars, olives, and cattle plenty, butthree goats to a sheep. The draught oxen wear white linen on theirnecks, and standing by dark green olive-trees each one is a picture, andthe folk, especially women wear delicate strawen hats with flowers andleaves fairly imitated in silk, with silver mixed. This day we crossed ariver prettily in a chained ferry boat. On either bank was a windlass,and a single man by turning of it drew our whole company to his shore,whereat I did admire, being a stranger. Passed over with us some countryfolk. And, an old woman looking at a young wench, she did hide her facewith her hand, and held her crucifix out like knight his sword intournay, dreading the evil eye.

  * * * * *

  "_January 15._--Safe at Venice. A place whose strange and passing beautyis well known to thee by report of our mariners. Dost mind too how Peterwould oft fill our ears withal, we handed beneath the table, and hestill discoursing of this sea-enthroned and peerless citie, in shape abow, and its great canal and palaces on piles, and its watery ways pliedby scores of gilded boats; and that market-place of nations, orbis, nonurbis, forum, St. Mark his place? And his statue with the peerlessjewels in his eyes, and the lion at his gate? But I, lying at my windowin pain, may see none of these beauties as yet, but only a street,fairly paced, which is dull, and houses with oiled paper and linen, inlieu of glass, which is rude; and the passers-by, their habits and theirgestures, wherein they are superfluous. Therefore, not to miss my dailycomfort of whispering to thee, I will e'en turn mine eyes inward, andbind my sheaves of wisdom reaped by travel. For I love thee so, that notreasure pleases me not shared with thee; and what treasure so good andenduring as knowledge? This then have I, Sir Footsore, learned, thateach nation hath its proper wisdom, and its proper folly; and, methinks,could a great king, or duke, tramp like me, and see with his own eyes,he might pick the flowers, and eschew the weeds of nations, and go homeand set his own folk on Wisdom's hill. The Germans in the north werechurlish, but frank and honest; in the south, kindly and honest too.Their general blot is drunkenness, the which they carry even to mislikeand contempt of sober men. They say commonly, 'Kanstu niecht sauffen undfressen so kanstu kienem hern wol dienen.' In England, the vulgar sortdrink as deep, but the worshipful hold excess in this a reproach, anddrink a health or two for courtesy, not gluttony, and still sugar thewine. In their cups the Germans use little mirth, or discourse, but plythe business sadly crying, 'Seyte frolich!' The best of their drunkensport is 'Kurlemurlehuff,' a way of drinking with touching deftly of theglass the beard, the table, in due turn, intermixed with whistlings andsnappings of the finger so curiously ordered as 'tis a labour ofHercules, but to the beholder right pleasant and mirthful. Their topers,by advice of German leeches, sleep with pebbles in their mouths. For, asof a boiling pot the lid must be set ajar, so with these fleshlywine-pots, to vent the heat of their inward parts: spite of which manydie suddenly from drink; but 'tis a matter of religion to slur it, andgloze it, and charge some innocent disease therewith. Yet 'tis more acustom than very nature, for their women come among the tipplers, and dobut stand a moment, and, as it were, kiss the wine-cup; and are indeedmost temperate in eating and drinking, and, of all women, modest andvirtuous, and true spouses and friends to their mates; far before ourHolland lasses, that being maids, put the question to the men, and beingwived, do lord it over them. Why, there is a wife in Tergou, not farfrom our door. One came to the house and sought her man. Says she,'You'll not find him: he asked my leave to go abroad this afternoon, andI did give it him.'"

  _Catherine._] "'Tis sooth! 'tis sooth! 'Twas Beck Hulse, Jonah's wife.This comes of a woman wedding a boy."

  "In the south where wine is, the gentry drink themselves bare; but notin the north: for with beer a noble shall sooner burst his body thanmelt his lands. They are quarrelsome, but 'tis the liquor, not the mind;for they are none revengeful. And when they have made a bad bargaindrunk, they stand to it sober. They keep their windows bright: and judgea man by his clothes. Whatever fruit or grain or herb grows by theroadside, gather and eat. The owner seeing you shall say, 'Art welcome,honest man.' But an ye pluck a wayside grape, your very life is injeopardy. 'Tis eating of that Heaven gave to be drunken. The French aremuch fairer spoken, and not nigh so true hearted. Sweet words cost themnought. They call it 'payer en blanche.'"

  _Denys._] "Les coquins! ha! ha!"

  "Natheless, courtesy is in their hearts, ay, in their ve
ry blood. Theysay commonly, 'Give yourself the trouble of sitting down.' And suchstraws of speech show how blows the wind. Also at a public show, if youwould leave your seat, yet not lose it, tie but your napkin round thebench, and no French man or women will sit here; but rather keep theplace for you."

  _Catherine._] "Gramercy! that _is_ manners. France for me!"

  Denys rose and placed his hand gracefully to his breastplate.

  "Natheless, they say things in sport which are not courteous, butshocking. 'Le diable t'emporte!' 'Allez au diable!' and so forth. But Itrow they mean not such dreadful wishes: custom belike. Moderate indrinking, and mix water with their wine, and sing and dance over theircups, and are then enchanting company. They are curious not to drink inanother man's cup. In war the English gain the better of them in thefield; but the French are their masters in attack and defence of cities;witness Orleans, where they besieged their besiegers, and hashed themsore with their double and treble culverines; and many other sieges inthis our century. More than all nations they flatter their women, anddespise them. No She may be their sovereign ruler. Also they often hangtheir female malefactors, instead of drowning them decently, as othernations use. The furniture in their inns is walnut, in Germany onlydeal. French windows are ill. The lower half is of wood, and opens: theupper half is of glass, but fixed; so that the servant cannot come at itto clean it. The German windows are all glass, and movable and shine farand near like diamonds. In France many mean houses are not glazed atall. Once I saw a Frenchman pass a church without unbonneting. This Ine'er witnessed in Holland, Germany, or Italy. At many inns they showthe traveller his sheets to give him assurance they are clean, and warmthem at the fire before him; a laudable custom. They receive him kindlyand like a guest; they mostly cheat him, and whiles cut his throat. Theyplead in excuse hard and tyrannous laws. And true it is their lawthrusteth its nose into every platter, and its finger into every pie. InFrance worshipful men wear their hats and their furs indoors, and goabroad lighter clad. In Germany they don hat and furred cloak to goabroad; but sit bareheaded and light clad round the stove.

  "The French intermix not the men and women folk in assemblies, as weHollanders use. Round their preachers the women sit on their heels inrows, and the men stand behind them. Their harvests are rye, and flax,and wine. Three mules shall you see to one horse, and whole flocks ofsheep as black as coal.

  "In Germany the snails be red. I lie not. The French buy minstrelsy, butbreed jests, and make their own mirth. The Germans foster their setfools, with ear-caps, which move them to laughter by simulating madness;a calamity that asks pity, not laughter. In this particular I deem thatlighter nation wiser than the graver German. What sayest thou? Alas!canst not answer me now.

  "In Germany the petty laws are wondrous wise and just. Those againstcriminals, bloody. In France bloodier still; and executed a trifle morecruelly there. Here the wheel is common, and the fiery stake; and underthis king they drown men by the score in Paris river, Seine yclept. Butthe English are as peremptory in hanging and drowning for a light fault;so travellers report. Finally, a true-hearted Frenchman, when ye chanceon one, is a man as near perfect as earth affords; and such a man is myDenys, spite of his foul mouth."

  _Denys._] "My foul mouth! Is that so writ, Master Richart?"

  _Richart._] "Ay, in sooth; see else."

  _Denys._] (Inspecting the letter gravely.) "I read not the letter so."

  _Richart._] "How then?"

  _Denys._] "Humph! ahem! why just the contrary." He added: "'Tis kittlework perusing of these black scratches men are agreed to take for words.And I trow 'tis still by guess you clerks do go, worthy sir. My foulmouth? This the first time e'er I heard on't. Eh, mesdames?"

  But the females did not seize the opportunity he gave them, and burstinto a loud and general disclaimer. Margaret blushed and said nothing;the other two bent silently over their work with something very like asly smile. Denys inspected their countenances long and carefully. Andthe perusal was so satisfactory, that he turned with a tone of injured,but patient, innocence, and bade Richart read on.

  "The Italians are a polished and subtle people. They judge a man, not byhis habits, but his speech and gesture. Here Sir Chough may by no meanspass for falcon gentle, as did I in Germany, pranked in my nobleservant's feathers. Wisest of all nations in their singular temperanceof food and drink. Most foolish of all to search strangers coming intotheir borders, and stay them from bringing much money in. They shouldrather invite it, and, like other nations, let the traveller from takingof it out. Also here in Venice the dames turn their black hair yellow bythe sun and art, to be wiser than Him who made them. Ye enter no Italiantown without a bill of health, though now is no plague in Europe. Thispeevishness is for extortion's sake. The inn-keepers cringe and fawn,and cheat, and, in country places, murder you. Yet will they give youclean sheets by paying therefor. Delicate in eating, and abhor fromputting their hand in the plate; sooner they will apply a crust or whatnot. They do even tell of a cardinal at Rome, which armeth his guest'sleft hand with a little bifurcal dagger to hold the meat, while hisknife cutteth it. But methinks this, too, is to be wiser than Him, whomade the hand so supple and prehensile."

  _Eli._] "I am of your mind, my lad."

  "They are sore troubled with the itch. And ointment for it, unguento perla rogna, is cried at every corner of Venice. From this my window I sawan urchin sell it to three several dames in silken trains, and to twovelvet knights."

  _Catherine._] "Italy, my lass, I rede ye wash your body i' the tub o'Sundays; and then ye can put your hand i' the plate o' Thursdaywithouten offence."

  "Their bread is lovely white. Their meats they spoil with sprinklingcheese over them; O perversity! Their salt is black; without a lie. Incommerce these Venetians are masters of the earth and sea; and governtheir territories wisely. Only one flaw I find; the same I once heard alearned friar cast up against Plato his republic: to wit, that herewomen are encouraged to venal frailty, and do pay a tax to the State,which, not content with silk and spice, and other rich and honestfreights, good store, must trade in sin. Twenty thousand of theseJezabels there be in Venice and Candia, and about, pampered and honouredfor bringing strangers to the city, and many live in princely palaces oftheir own. But herein methinks the politic signors of Venice forget whatKing David saith, 'Except the Lord keep the citie, the watchman wakethbut in vain.' Also, in religion, they hang their cloth according to thewind, siding now with the Pope, now with the Turk; but ay with the godof traders, mammon hight. Shall flower so cankered bloom to the world'send? But since I speak of flowers, this none may deny them, that theyare most cunning in making roses and gilliflowers to blow unseasonably.In summer they nip certain of the budding roses and water them not. Thenin winter they dig round these discouraged plants, and put in cloves;and so with great art rear sweet-scented roses, and bring them to marketin January. And did first learn this art of a cow. Buds she grazed insummer, and they sprouted at yule. Women have sat in the doctors' chairsat their colleges. But she that sat in St. Peter's was a German. Italytoo, for artful fountains and figures that move by water and enact life.And next for fountains is Augsburg, where they harness the foul knaveSmoke to good Sir Spit, and he turneth stout Master Roast. But lest anyone place should vaunt, two towns there be in Europe, which, scorninggiddy fountains, bring water tame in pipes to every burgher's door, andhe filleth his vessels with but turning of a cock. One is London, sowatered this many a year by pipes of a league from Paddington, aneighbouring city; and the other is the fair town of Lubeck. Also thefierce English are reported to me wise in that they will not share theirland and flocks with wolves; but have fairly driven those marauders intotheir mountains. But neither in France, nor Germany, nor Italy, is awayfarer's life safe from the vagabones after sundown. I can hear of noglazed house in all Venice; but only oiled linen and paper; and, behindthese barbarian eyelets, a wooden jalosy. Their name for a cowardlyassassin is 'a brave man,' and for an harlot, 'a courteous person,'which is as much as to say t
hat a woman's worst vice, and a man's worstvice, are virtues. But I pray God for little Holland that there anassassin may be yclept an assassin, and an harlot an harlot, tilldomesday; and then gloze foul faults with silken names who can!"

  _Eli._] (With a sigh.) "He should have been a priest, saving yourpresence, my poor lass."

  "Go to, peevish writer; art tied smarting by the leg, and may not seethe beauties of Venice. So thy pen kicketh all around like a wickedmule.

  "_January 16._--Sweetheart, I must be brief and tell thee but a part ofthat I have seen, for this day my journal ends. To-night it sails forthee, and I, unhappy, not with it, but to-morrow, in another ship, toRome.

  "Dear Margaret, I took a hand-litter, and was carried to St. Mark hischurch. Outside it, towards the market-place, is a noble gallery, andabove it four famous horses, cut in brass by the ancient Romans, andseem all moving, and at the very next step must needs leap down on thebeholder. About the church are six hundred pillars of marble, porphyry,and ophites. Inside is a treasure greater than either at St. Denys, orLoretto, or Toledo. Here a jewelled pitcher given the seigniory by aPersian king, also the ducal cap blazing with jewels, and on its crown adiamond and a chrysolite, each as big as an almond; two golden crownsand twelve golden stomachers studded with jewels, from Constantinople;item, a monstrous sapphire; item, a great diamond given by a Frenchking; item, a prodigious carbuncle; item, three unicorns' horns. Butwhat are these compared with the sacred relics?

  "Dear Margaret, I stood and saw the brazen chest that holds the body ofSt. Mark the Evangelist. I saw with these eyes, and handled, his ringand his gospel written with his own hand, and all my travels seemedlight: for who am I that I should see such things? Dear Margaret, hissacred body was first brought from Alexandria by merchants in 810, andthen not prized as now; for between 829, when this church was builded,and 1094, the very place where it lay was forgotten. Then holy priestsfasted and prayed many days seeking for light, and lo the Evangelist'sbody brake at midnight through the marble and stood before them. Theyfell to the earth: but in the morning found the crevice the sacred bodyhad burst through, and peering through it saw him lie. Then they tookand laid him in his chest beneath the altar, and carefully put back thestone with its miraculous crevice, which crevice I saw, and shall gapefor a monument while the world lasts. After that they showed me theVirgin's chair, it is of stone; also her picture, painted by St. Luke,very dark, and the features now scarce visible. This picture, in time ofdrought, they carry in procession, and brings the rain. I wish I had notseen it. Item, two pieces of marble spotted with John the Baptist'sblood; item, a piece of the true cross and of the pillar to which Christwas tied; item, the rock struck by Moses, and wet to this hour; also astone Christ sat on, preaching at Tyre; but some say it is the one thepatriarch Jacob laid his head on, and I hold with them, by reason ourLord never preached at Tyre. Going hence they showed me the statenursery for the children of those aphrodisian dames, their favourites.Here in the outer wall was a broad niche, and if they bring them solittle as they can squeeze them through it alive, the bairn falls into anet inside, and the state takes charge of it, but if too big, theirmothers must even take them home again, with whom abiding 'tis like tobe mali corvi mali ovum. Coming out of the church we met them carryingin a corpse, with the feet and face bare. This I then first learned isVenetian custom, and sure no other town will ever rob them of it, nor ofthis that follows. On a great porphyry slab in the piazza were threeghastly heads rotting and tainting the air, and in their hot summerslike to take vengeance with breeding of a plague. These were traitors tothe state, and a heavy price--two thousand ducats--being put on eachhead, their friends had slain them and brought all three to the slab,and so sold blood of others and their own faith. No state buys heads somany nor pays half so high a price for that sorry merchandise. But whatI most admired was to see over against the duke's palace a fair gallowsin alabaster, reared express to hang him, and no other, for the leasttreason to the state; and there it stands in his eye whispering himmemento mori. I pondered, and owned these signors my masters, who willlet no man, not even their sovereign, be above the common weal. Hard by,on a wall, the workmen were just finishing, by order of the seigniory,the stone effigy of a tragical and enormous act enacted last year, yeton the wall looks innocent. Here two gentlefolks whisper together, andthere other twain, their swords by their side. Four brethren were they,which did on either side conspire to poison the other two, and so halvetheir land in lieu of quartering it; and at a mutual banquet these twaindrugged the wine, and those twain envenomed a marchpane, to such goodpurpose, that the same afternoon lay four 'brave men' around one tablegrovelling in mortal agony, and cursing of one another and themselves,and so concluded miserably, and the land, for which they had lost theirimmortal souls went into another family. And why not? it could not gointo a worse.

  "But O sovereign wisdom of bywords! how true they put the finger on eachnation's, or particular's, fault.

  Quand Italie sera sans poison Et France sans trahison Et l'Angleterre sans guerre, Lors sera le monde sans terre."

  Richart explained this to Catherine, then proceeded: "And after thisthey took me to the quay, and presently I espied among the masts onegarlanded with amaranth flowers. 'Take me thither,' said I, and I let myguide know the custom of our Dutch skippers to hoist flowers to themasthead when they are courting a maid. Oft had I scoffed at thissaying. 'So then his wooing is the earth's concern.' But now, so farfrom the Rotter, that bunch at a masthead made my heart leap withassurance of a countryman. They carried me, and oh, Margaret! on thestern of that Dutch hoy, was writ in muckle letters,

  RICHART ELIASSOEN, AMSTERDAM.

  'Put me down,' I said: 'for our Lady's sake put me down.' I sat on thebank and looked, scarce believing my eyes, and looked, and presentlyfell to crying, till I could see the words no more. Ah me, how they wentto my heart, those bare letters in a foreign land. Dear Richart! goodkind brother Richart! often I have sat on his knee and rid on his back.Kisses many he has given me, unkind word from him had I never. And therewas his name on his own ship, and his face and all his grave, but goodand gentle ways, came back to me, and I sobbed vehemently, and criedaloud, 'Why, why is not brother Richart here, and not his name only?' Ispake in Dutch, for my heart was too full to hold their foreign tongues,and--"

  _Eli._] "Well, Richart, go on lad, prithee go on. Is this a place tohalt at?"

  _Richart._] "Father, with my duty to you, it is easy to say go on, butthink ye I am not flesh and blood? The poor boy's--simple grief andbrotherly love coming--so sudden--on me, they go through my heart and--Icannot go on: sink me if I can even see the words, 'tis writ so fine."

  _Denys._] "Courage, good Master Richart! Take your time. Here are moreeyne wet than yours. Ah, little comrade! would God thou wert here, and Iat Venice for thee."

  _Richart._] "Poor little curly-headed lad, what had he done that we havedriven him so far?"

  "That is what I would fain know," said Catherine, drily, then fell toweeping and rocking herself, with her apron over her head.

  "Kind dame, good friends," said Margaret, trembling, "let me tell youhow the letter ends. The skipper hearing our Gerard speak his grief inDutch, accosted him, and spake comfortably to him; and after a while ourGerard found breath to say he was worthy Master Richart's brother.Thereat was the good skipper all agog to serve him."

  _Richart._] "So! so! skipper! Master Richart aforesaid will be at thywedding and bring's purse to boot."

  _Margaret._] "Sir, he told Gerard of his consort that was to sail thatvery night for Rotterdam; and dear Gerard had to go home and finish hisletter and bring it to the ship. And the rest, it is but his poor dearwords of love to me, the which, an't please you, I think shame to hearthem read aloud, and ends with the lines I sent to Mistress Kate, and_they_ would sound so harsh _now_ and ungrateful."

  The pleading tone, as much as the words, prevailed, and Richart said hewould read no more aloud, but run his eye over it for his own brotherlysa
tisfaction. She blushed and looked uneasy, but made no reply.

  "Eli," said Catherine, still sobbing a little, "tell me, for our Lady'ssake, how our poor boy is to live at that nasty Rome. He is gone thereto write, but here be his own words to prove writing avails nought; ahad died o' hunger by the way but for paint-brush and psaltery.Well-a-day!"

  "Well," said Eli, "he has got brush and music still. Besides, so manymen so many minds. Writing, thof it had no sale in other parts, may bemerchandise at Rome."

  "Father," said little Kate, "have I your good leave to put in my word'twixt mother and you?"

  "And welcome, little heart."

  "Then, seems to me painting and music, close at hand, be stronger thanwriting, but being distant, nought to compare; for see what glamourwritten paper hath done here but now. Our Gerard, writing at Venice,hath verily put his hand into this room at Rotterdam, and turned all ourhearts. Ay, dear dear Gerard, methinks thy spirit hath rid hither onthese thy paper wings; and oh! dear father, why not do as we should dowere he here in the body?"

  "Kate," said Eli, "fear not; Richart and I will give him glamour forglamour. We will write him a letter, and send it to Rome by a sure handwith money, and bid him home on the instant."

  Cornelis and Sybrandt exchanged a gloomy look.

  "Ah, good father! And meantime?"

  "Well, meantime?"

  "Dear father, dear mother, what can we do to pleasure the absent, but bekind to his poor lass; and her own trouble afore her?"

  "'Tis well!" said Eli; "but I am older than thou." Then he turnedgravely to Margaret: "Wilt answer me a question, my pretty mistress?"

  "If I may, sir," faltered Margaret.

  "What are these marriage lines Gerard speaks of in the letter?"

  "Our marriage lines, sir. His and mine. Know you not we are betrothed?"

  "Before witnesses?"

  "Ay, sure. My poor father and Martin Wittenhaagen."

  "This is the first I ever heard of it. How came they in his hands? Theyshould be in yours."

  "Alas, sir, the more is my grief; but I ne'er doubted him: and he saidit was a comfort to him to have them in his bosom."

  "Y'are a very foolish lass."

  "Indeed I was, sir. But trouble teaches the simple."

  "'Tis a good answer. Well, foolish or no, y'are honest. I had shown yemore respect at first, but I thought y'had been his leman, and that isthe truth."

  "God forbid, sir! Denys, methinks 'tis time for us to go. Give me myletter, sir!"

  "Bide ye! bide ye! be not so hot, for a word! Natheless, wife, methinksher red cheek becomes her."

  "Better than it did you to give it her, my man."

  "Softly, wife, softly. I am not counted an unjust man thof I be somewhatslow."

  Here Richart broke in. "Why, mistress, did ye shed your blood for ourGerard?"

  "Not I, sir. But maybe I would."

  "Nay, nay. But he says you did. Speak sooth, now!"

  "Alas! I know not what ye mean. I rede ye believe not all that my poorlad says of me. Love makes him blind."

  "Traitress!" cried Denys. "Let not her throw dust in thine eyes, MasterRichart. Old Martin tells me--ye need not make signals to me,she-comrade; I am as blind as love. Martin tells me she cut her arm, andlet her blood flow, and smeared her heels when Gerard was hunted by thebloodhounds, to turn the scent from her lad."

  "Well, and if I did, 'twas my own, and spilled for the good of my own,"said Margaret, defiantly. But, Catherine suddenly clasping her, shebegan to cry at having found a bosom to cry on, of one who would havealso shed her blood for Gerard in danger.

  Eli rose from his chair. "Wife," said he, solemnly, "you will setanother chair at our table for every meal: also another plate and knife.They will be for Margaret and Peter. She will come when she likes, andstay away when she pleases. None may take her place at my left hand.Such as can welcome her are welcome to me. Such as cannot, I force themnot to bide with me. The world is wide and free. Within my walls I ammaster, and my son's betrothed is welcome."

  * * * * *

  Catherine bustled out to prepare supper. Eli and Richart sat down andconcocted a letter to bring Gerard home. Richart promised it should goby sea to Rome that very week. Sybrandt and Cornelis exchanged a gloomywink, and stole out. Margaret, seeing Giles deep in meditation, for thedwarf's intelligence had taken giant strides, asked him to bring her theletter. "You have heard but half, good Master Giles," said she. "Shall Iread you the rest?"

  "I shall be much beholden to you," shouted the courtier.

  She gave him her stool: curiosity bowed his pride to sit on it: andMargaret murmured the first part of the letter into his ear very low,not to disturb Eli and Richart. And, to do this, she leaned forward andput her lovely face cheek by jowl with Giles's hideous one: a strangecontrast, and worth a painter's while to try and represent. And in thisattitude Catherine found her, and all the mother warmed towards her, andshe exchanged an eloquent glance with little Kate.

  The latter smiled, and sewed, with drooping lashes.

  "Get him home on the instant," roared Giles. "I'll make a man of him. Ican do aught with the duke."

  "Hear the boy!" said Catherine, half comically, half proudly.

  "We hear him," said Richart: "a mostly makes himself heard when a dospeak."

  * * * * *

  _Sybrandt._] "Which will get to him first?"

  _Cornelis._] (Gloomily.) "Who can tell?"