s
peaceable enough, and took a many steps to save me, and I doubt if King
Henry does even to it. Eh dear! if I did but know what had come of my
poor man! I should have thought all them Saracens 'd have been dead and
buried by now, when you think what lots of folks has gone off to kill
'em. And as to `asking and having'--well, that hangs on what you ask
for. There's a many folks asks for the moon, but I never heard tell as
any of 'em had it."

"Why do folks go to kill the Saracens?" demanded Derette, still
unsatisfied on that point.

"Saints know!" said her mother, using her favourite comfortable
expletive. "I wish _he_ hadn't ha' gone--I do so!"

"It's a good work, child," explained Anania.

"Wouldn't it have been a good work for Father to stay at home, and save
steps for Mother?"

"I think it would, my child," said Gerhardt; "but God knoweth best, and
He let thy father go. Sometimes what seems to us the best work is not
the work God has appointed for us."

Had Gerhardt wished to drive away Anania, he could not have taken a
surer method than by words which savoured of piety. She resembled a
good many people in the present day, who find the Bread of Life very dry
eating, and if they must swallow a little of it, can only be persuaded
to do so by a thick coating of worldly butter. They may be coaxed to
visit the church where the finest anthem is sung, but that where the
purest Gospel is preached has no attraction for them. The porter's
wife, therefore, suddenly discovered that she had plenty to do at home,
and took her departure, much to the relief of the friends on whom she
inflicted herself. She had not been gone many minutes when Stephen
looked in.

"Lads not come in yet?" said he. "Well, have you seen the grand sight?
The Queen's gone again; she only stayed for supper at the Castle, and
then off to Woodstock. She'll not be there above a month, they say.
She never tarries long in England at once. But the King's coming back
this autumn--so they say."

"Who say?" asked Gerhardt.

"Oh, every body," said Stephen with a laugh, as he leaned over the
half-door.

"_Every_ body?" inquired Gerhardt drily.

"Oh, come, you drive things too fine for me. Every body, that is
anybody."

"I thought every body was somebody."

"Not in this country: maybe in yours," responded Stephen, still
laughing. "But I'm forgetting what I came for. Aunt Isel, do you want
either a sheep or a pig?"

"Have you got 'em