"You are a woman, _Aunt_," saith _Wat_. "'Tis different with you."
"I pay you good thanks, Master _Walter Louvaine_," quoth she, "for the
finest compliment was ever paid me yet. I am a woman (wherefore I thank
God), and therefore (this young gentleman being testimony) have more
bravery of soul than a man. For that is what thy words come to, Master
_Wat_; though I reckon thou didst not weigh them afore utterance.--Now,
_Aubrey_, what art thou about to do with this lad?"
"I fear there is but one thing to do," saith _Father_, and he fetched an
heavy sigh. "But let us reach the inwards of the matter first. I
reckon, _Walter_, thou hast many debts outstanding?"
"I am afeared so, Sir," saith _Wat_,--which, to do him credit, did look
heartily ashamed of himself.
"To what sum shall they reach, thinkest?"
_Wat_ fiddled with his chain, and fidgetted on his seat, and _Father_
had need of some patience (which he showed rarely) ere he gat at the
full figures. It did then appear that our young gallant should have
debts outstanding to the amount of nigh two thousand pounds.
"But, _Wat_," saith _Helen_, looking sore puzzled, "how _couldst_ thou
spend two thousand pounds when thou hadst but sixty-two in these four
years?"
"Maidens understand not the pledging of credit," saith _Ned_. "See
thou, _Nell_: I am a shop-keeper, and sell silk gowns; and thou wouldst
have one that should cost an angel--"
"Eh, _Ned_!" crieth she, and all we laughed.
"Thou shalt not buy a silk gown under six angels at the very least.
Leastwise, not clear silk: it should be all full of gum."
"Go to!" saith _Ned_. "Six angels, then--sixty if thou wilt. (Dear
heart, what costly matter women be! I'll don my wife in camlet.) Well,
in thy purse is but two angels. How then shalt thou get thy gown?"
"Why, how can I? I must do without it," saith she.
"Most sweet _Helen_; sure thou earnest straight out of the Garden of
_Eden_! Dear heart, folks steer not in that quarter now o' days. Thou
comest to me for the gown, and I set down thy name in my books, that
thou owest me six angels: and away goest thou with the silk, and turnest
forth o' _Sunday_ as fine as a fiddler."
"Well--and then?" saith she.
"Then, with _Christmas_ in cometh my bill: and thou must pay the same."
"But if I have no money?"
"Then I lose six angels."
"_Father_, is that honest?" saith _Helen_.
"If thou hadst no reason to think thou shouldst have the money by
_Christmas_, certainly not, my maid," he made answer.
"Not honest, Sir!" saith _Wat_.
"Is it so?" quoth _Father_.
"Oh, look you, words mean different in the Court," crieth Aunt _Joyce_,
"from what they do in _Derwent_-dale and at _Minster Lovel_. If we pay
not our debts here, we go to prison; and folks do but say, Served him
right! But if they pay them not there, why, the poor tailor and
jeweller must feed their starving childre on the sight of my Lord of
_Essex'_ gold lace, and the smell of my Lord of _Oxenford_ his perfumes.
Do but think, what a rare supper they shall have!"
"Now, hearken, _Walter_," saith _Father_. "I must have thee draw up a
list of all thy debts, what sum, for what purpose, and to whom owing:
likewise a list of all debts due to thee."
"But you would not ask for loans back, Sir?" cries _Wat_.
"That depends on whom they were lent to," answers _Father_. "If to a
poor man that can scarce pay his way, no. But if to my cousin of
_Oxenford_ and such like gallants that have plenty wherewith to pay,
then ay."
"They would think it so mean, Sir!" saith _Walter_, diseasefully.
"Let them so do," saith _Father_. "I shall sleep quite as well."
"But really, Sir, I could not remember all."
"Then set down what thou canst remember."
_Walter_ looked as if he would liefer do aught else.
"And, my son," saith _Father_, so gently that it was right tender, "I
must take thee away from the Court."
"Sir!" crieth _Walter_, in a voice of very despair.
"I can see thou art not he that can stand temptation. I had hoped
otherwise. But 'tis plain that this temptation, at the least, hath been
too much for thee."
_Wat's_ face was as though his whole life should be ruined if so were.
"Come, _Wat_, take heart o' grace!" cries _Ned_. "I wouldn't cruise in
those muddy waters if thou shouldst pay me two thousand pound to do the
same. Think but of men scenting themselves--with aught but a stiff
sea-breeze. Pish! And as to dancing, cap in hand, afore a woman, and
calling her thine _Excellency_, or thy _Floweriness_, or thy
Some-Sort-of-Foolery, why, I'd as lief strike to a _Spanish_ galleon,
very nigh. When I want a maid to wed me, an' I ever do--at this present
I don't--I shall walk straight up to her like a man, and say, `Mistress
_Cicely_ (or whatso she be named), I love you; will you wed me?' And if
she cannot see an honest man's love, or will not take it, without all
that flummery, why, she isn't worth a pail o' sea-water: and I can get
along without her, and I will."
"Hurrah for _Ned_!" saith Aunt _Joyce_. "'Tis a comfort to find we have
one man in the family."
"I trust we may have two, in time," quoth _Father_. "_Wat_, my lad, I
know this comes hard: and as I count thee not wicked, but weak, I would
fain help thee all I may. But thou canst not be suffered to forget that
my fortune is but three hundred pound by the year; and I have yet three
daughters to portion. I could not pay thy debts without calling in that
for which thou hast pledged my credit--for it is mine, _Wat_, rather
than thine, seeing thine own were thus slender."
"But, Sir!" crieth _Wat_, "that were punishing you for mine
extravagance. I never dreamed of that!"
"Come, he is opening his eyes a bit at last," saith Aunt _Joyce_ to me,
that was next her.
"May-be, _Wat_," saith _Father_, with a kindly smile, "it had been
better if thou hadst dreamed thereof a little sooner. I think, my boy,
it will be punishment enough for one of thy nature but to 'bide at home,
and to see the straits whereto thou hast put them that love thee best."
"Punishment!" saith Wat, in a low, 'shamed voice. "Yes, _Father_, the
worst you could devise."
"Well, then we will say no more," saith _Father_. "Only draw up those
lists, _Walter_, and let me have them quickly."
_Father_ then left the chamber: and _Wat_ threw him down at _Mother's_
knee.
"O _Mother_, _Mother_, if I had but thought sooner!" crieth he. "If I
could but have stood out when they laughed at me!--for that, in very
deed, were the point. I did begin with keeping within my wage: and then
all they mocked and flouted me, and told me no youth of any spirit
should do so: and--and I gave way. Oh, if I had but held on!"
_Mother_ softly stroked _Wat's_ gleaming fair hair, that is so like
hers.
"My boy!" she saith, "didst thou ask for God's strength, or try to hold
on in thine own?"
_Walter_ made no answer in words, but methought I saw the water stand in
his eyes.
When _Mother_ and _Wat_ were both gone forth, Aunt _Joyce_ saith,--"I
cannot verily tell how it is that folk should have a fantasy that 'tis a
shame to be 'feared of doing ill, and no shame at all to be 'feared of
being laughed at. Why, one day when I were at home, there was little
_Jack Bracher_ a-stealing apples in mine orchard: and _Hewitt_ (that is
Aunt _Joyce's_ chief gardener) caught him and brought him to me.
_Jack_, he sobbed and thrust his knuckles into his eyes, and said it
were all the other lads. `But what did the other lads to thee?' quoth
I. `Oh, they dared me!' crieth he. `They said I durst not take 'em:
and so I had to do it.' Now, heard you ever such stuff in your born
days? Why, they might have dared me till this time next year, afore
ever I had turned thief for their daring."
"But then, _Aunt_, you see," saith _Ned_, a twinkle in his eyes, "you
are but a woman. That alters the case."
"Just so, _Ned_," quoth Aunt _Joyce_, the fun in her eyes as in his: "I
am one of the weaker sex, I know."
"Now, I'll tell you," saith _Ned_, "how they essayed it with me, when I
first joined my ship. They dared me--my mates, wot you--to go up to the
masthead, afore I had been aboard a day. `Now, look you here, mates,'
says I. `When the Admiral bids me, I'll scale every mast in the ship;
and if I break my neck, I shall but have done my duty. But I'll do
nought because I'm dared, and so that you know.' Well, believe me who
will, but they cheered me as if I had taken a galleon laden with ducats.
And I've been their white son [favourite] ever since."
"Of course!" saith Aunt _Joyce_. "They alway do. 'Tis men which have
no true courage that dare others: and when they come on one that hath,
they hold him the greater hero because 'tis not in themselves to do the
like. _Ned_, lad, thou art thy father's son. I know not how _Wat_ gat
changed."
"Well, _Aunt_, I hope I am," saith _Ned_. "I would liefer copy _Father_
than any man ever I knew."
"Hold thou there, and thou shalt make a fair copy," saith Aunt _Joyce_.