ed her arms about his neck, and then lay back with her head upon his
shoulder, purring like a kitten in his arms.
"Father," said she, patting his cheek, "some one hath told him naughty
things of thee. Come, daddy, say they are not so!"
The master-player's face turned red as flame. He coughed and looked up
among the roof-beams. "Why, of course they're not," said he, uneasily.
"There, boy!" cried she; "I told thee so. Why, daddy, think!--they said
that thou hadst stolen him away from his own mother, and wouldst not
leave him go!"
"Hollo!" ejaculated the master-player, abruptly, with a quiver in his
voice; "what a hole thou hast made in the pasty, Nick!"
"Ah, daddy," persisted Cicely, "and what a hole it would make in his
mother's heart if he had been stolen away!"
"Wouldst like another draught of cordial, Nick?" cried Carew, hurriedly,
reaching out for the tall flagon with a trembling hand. "'Tis good to
cheer the troubled heart, lad. Not that thou hast any reason in the
world to let thy heart be troubled," he added hastily. "No, indeed, upon
my word; for thou art on the doorstep of a golden-lined success. See,
Nick, how the light shines through!" and he tilted up the flagon. "It is
one of old Jake Vessaline's Murano-Venetian glasses; a beautiful thing,
now, is it not? 'Tis good as any made abroad!" but his hand was shaking
so that half the cordial missed the cup and ran into a little shimmering
pool upon the table-top.
"And thou'lt send him home again, daddy, wilt thou not?"
"Yes, yes, of course--why, to be sure--we'll send him anywhere that thou
dost say, Golden-heart: to Persia or Cathay--ay, to the far side of the
green-cheese moon, or to the court of Tamburlaine the Great," and he
laughed a quick, dry, nervous laugh that had no laughter in it. "I had
one of De Lannoy's red Bohemian bottles, Nick," he rattled on
feverishly; "but that butter-fingered rogue"--he nodded his head at the
outer stair--"dropped it, smash! and made a thousand most counterfeit
fourpences out of what cost me two pound sterling."
"But will ye truly leave me go, sir?" faltered Nick.
"Why, of course--to be sure--yes, certainly--yes, yes. But, Nick, it is
too late this night. Why, come, thou couldst not go to-night. See, 'tis
dark, and thou a stranger in the town. 'Tis far to Stratford town--thou
couldst not walk it, lad; there will be carriers anon. Come, stay awhile
with Cicely and me--we will make thee a right welcome guest!"
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