r souls to fly
To the stars of freedom, far beyond the sunset,--
We whom you have captured can die!

VI

LOCKED HARBORS

"But of what use is a King's patent," said Hugh Thorne of Bristol, "if
the harbors be locked?"

The Italian merchant glanced up from his papers and smiled, which was
all the answer the Englishman seemed to expect, for he stormed on, "Here
have we better fleeces than Spain, better wheat than France, finer
cattle than the Netherlands, the tin of Cornwall, the flax of Kent and
Durham, and our people starve or live rudely because of the fettering of
our trade."

"'T is a sad misfortune," said the merchant. "In a world so great as
this there is surely room for all to work and all to get reward for
their labor. But so long as the English merchant guilds wear away their
time and substance in fighting one another I fear 't will be no better."

Thorne flung his cloak about him with an impatient gesture. "That's
true," he answered, "the Spaniards hold by Spain, and all the Hanse
merchants by one another, but our English go every man for himself and
the devil take the hindmost. I speak freely to you, friend, because you
have cast in your lot with us West Country folk and are content to be
called John Cabot."

The other smiled again, his quick childlike smile, and went with his
guest to the door. When he entered again his small private room a
dark-eyed boy of five was crawling out from under the table.

"Dad," he inquired solemnly, "vat is a locked harbor?"

John Cabot laughed and swung his little son to his shoulder. "That is a
great question for a little brain," he said fondly. "But see thee here;
suppose I put thee in the chest and shut the lid and turn the key; thou
art locked in and canst not get out--so! But now I put thee out of door
and set the bandog to guard it; thou art locked out though the door be
wide open, seest thou? And when I forbid thee to pick up the plums that
fall on the grass from the Frenchman's damson tree, they are as safe as
if I locked them in the dresser here, are they not? So 't is when the
King forbids his people to send their goods to some harbor; it is the
same as if a great chain were stretched across that harbor with a great
lock upon it. Now run and play with Ludovico and Santo, Sebastiano mio,
and be glad thou art free of a pleasant garden."

But Sebastian still hung back, his dark head rubbing softly against his
father's shoulder. "When I am a g