"

"No," said he; "I'm not."

There was a short silence.

"Nick, I say, wilt thou be good if I open the door?"

"No."

"Then I will open it anyway; thou durstn't be bad to me!"

The bolts thumped, and then the heavy door swung slowly back.

"Why, where art thou?"

He was sitting in the corner behind the door.

"Here," said he.

She came in, but he did not look up.

"Nick," she asked earnestly, "why wilt thou be so bad, and try to run
away from my father?"

"I hate thy father!" said he, and brought his fist down upon his knee.

"Hate him? Oh, Nick! Why?"

"If thou be asking whys," said Nick, bitterly, "why did he steal me away
from my mother?"

"Oh, surely, Nick, that cannot be true--no, no, it cannot be true. Thou
hast forgotten, or thou hast slept too hard and had bad dreams. My
father would not steal a pin. It was a nightmare. Doth thine head hurt
thee?" She came over and stroked his forehead with her cool hand. She
was a graceful child, and gentle in all her ways. "I am sorry thou dost
not feel well, Nick. But my father will come presently, and he will heal
thee soon. Don't cry any more."

"I'm not crying," said Nick, stoutly, though as he spoke a tear ran down
his cheek, and fell upon his hand.

"Then it is the roof leaks," she said, looking up as if she had not seen
his tear-blinded eyes. "But cheer up, Nick, and be a good boy--wilt thou
not? 'Tis dinner-time, and thy new clothes have come; and thou art to
come down now and try them on."

When Nick came out of the tiring-room and found the master-player come,
he knew not what to say or do. "Oh, brave, brave, brave!" cried Cicely,
and danced around him, clapping her hands. "Why, it is a very prince--a
king! Oh, Nick, thou art most beautiful to see!"

And Master Carew's own eyes sparkled; for truly it was a pleasant sight
to see a fair young lad like Nick in such attire.

There was a fine white shirt of Holland linen, and long hose of grayish
blue, with puffed and slashed trunks of velvet so blue as to be almost
black. The sleeveless jerkin was of the same dark color, trellised with
roses embroidered in silk, and loose from breast to broad lace collar so
that the waistcoat of dull gold silk beneath it might show. A cloak of
damask with a silver clasp, a buff-leather belt with a chubby purse hung
to it by a chain, tan-colored slippers, and a jaunty velvet cap with a
short white plume, completed the array. Everything, too, had been laid
down