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So help me Heaven, as there is nought in it but some merchandises which I will gladly part with to you one hundred yards of Lincoln green to make doublets to thy men, and a hundred staves of Spanish yew to make bows, and a hundred silken bowstrings, tough, round, and sound these will I send thee for thy good-will, honest Diccon, an thou wilt keep silence about the vault, my good Diccon."
"The roses," she said, "the roses are too heavy. Oh, I am tired and the room goes round." I caught her as she fell, and laid her gently upon the floor. There was water on the table, and I dashed some in her face and moistened her lips; then turned to the door to get woman's help, and ran against Diccon. "I got that bag of bones here at last, sir," he began.
I went to the table, and sitting down leaned my forehead upon my hand. It was Diccon who would have done this thing! The fire crackled on the hearth as had crackled the old camp fires in Flanders; the wind outside was the wind that had whistled through the rigging of the Treasurer, one terrible night when we lashed ourselves to the same mast and never thought to see the morning. Diccon!
Then Diccon Bowman carried him out into the strangeness of the winter midnight. Outside, beyond the frozen moat, where the osiers, stood stark and stiff in their winter nakedness, was a group of dark figures waiting for them with horses. In the pallid moonlight Myles recognized the well-known face of Father Edward, the Prior of St. Mary's.
Diccon also drags Doctor Rat, the curate, into the quarrel by telling him that, if he will but creep into Dame Chatte's cottage by a hidden way, he will find her using the stolen needle. Then Diccon secretly warns Dame Chatte that Gammer Gurton's man Hodge is coming to steal her chickens; and the old woman hides in the dark passage and cudgels the curate soundly with the door bar.
To us presently cometh Diccon, his blackened face streaked with sweat, hoarse-voiced but hearty: "Aha, Captain Jo your luck's wi' us as ever! Yon curst craft hath her bellyful at last, aye, has she!"
But my old chum Billy Little was the child's especial friend. In those good times there was another child, a boy, Diccon Bright, who often came down from his cabin home a mile up river to play with Rita on the blue-grass lawn in summer, or to sit with her on the hearth log in winter.
Some," he said, "who are yet at large, and who are yet as deep in the matter as I " "Gifford, Morgan, and another," whispered Cavendish significantly. "Have they escaped?" asked Diccon. "So 'tis said." "The decoy ducks," thought Richard.
"Pompey?" exclaimed this fellow Diccon, a merry-seeming fellow but with a truculent eye. "Look 'ee, Job, here's a match for Pompey at last, as I do think, man to man, bare fists or knives, a match and I'll lay to't." "Pshaw!" growled Job. "Pompey could eat 'im bones and all, curse 'im! Pompey would break 'is back as 'e did the big Spaniard's last week."
So, having seen her safely made over to the lady's care, Richard ventured for the first time to make his presence in London known to his son, and to his kindred; and he was the more glad to have her in these quarters because Diccon told him that there was no doubt that Langston was lurking about the town, and indeed he was convinced that he had recognised that spy entering Walsingham's house in the dress of a scrivener.
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