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Yet still the master-player joked and laughed and pleased the boy with little things until Nick laughed too, and let the matter go. At last, however, when they had ridden fully an hour, they passed a moss-grown abbey on the left-hand side of the road, a strange old place that Nick could not recall. "Are ye sure, Master Carew," he ventured timidly
Why, daddy, think! they said that thou hadst stolen him away from his own mother, and wouldst not leave him go!" "Hollo!" ejaculated the master-player, abruptly, with a quiver in his voice; "what a hole thou hast made in the pasty, Nick!" "Ah, daddy," persisted Cicely, "and what a hole it would make in his mother's heart if he had been stolen away!"
Just beyond, the Dingles wind irregularly up from the foot-path below to the crest of Welcombe hill, through straggling clumps and briery hollows, sweet with nodding bluebells, ash, and hawthorn. Nick and the master-player paused a moment at the top to catch their breath and to look back.
"Why, lad, lad," cried Carew, breathlessly, "thou hast a very fortune in thy throat!" Nick looked up in great surprise; and at that the master-player broke off suddenly and said no more, though such a strange light came creeping into his eyes that Nick, after meeting his fixed stare for a moment, asked uneasily if they would not better be going on. Without a word the master-player started.
Could he but just find Master Shakspere, all his trouble would be over; for the husband of his mother's own cousin would see justice done him in spite of the master-player and the bandy-legged man with the ribbon in his ear of that he was sure.
Nick's face had from the first attracted him; and now, living with the boy day after day, housed up, a prisoner, yet cheerful through it all, the master-player began to feel what in a better man had been the prick of conscience, but in him was only an indefinite uneasiness like a blunted cockle-bur.
The ancient city of Coventry stands upon a little hill, with old St. Michael's steeple and the spire of Holy Trinity church rising above it against the sky; and as the master-player and the boy came climbing upward from the south, walls, towers, chimneys, and red-tiled roofs were turned to gold by the glow of the setting sun.
The master-player would not let him eat at all after once breaking his fast, for fear it might affect his voice, and had him say his lines a hundred times until he had them pat.
And if he would but leave me go, perhaps I'd love him very much indeed." "Good, Nick! thou art a trump!" cried Master Carew's voice suddenly from the further end of the hall, where in spite of all the candles it was dark; and, coming forward, the master-player held out his hands in a most genial way. "Come, lad, thy hand 'tis spoken like a gentleman.
"Oh, that's all seen to," said the master-player. "'Tis to be sent back by the weekly carrier." "And where do I turn into the Stratford road, sir?" asked Nick, as the players clattered down the cobbled street in a cloud of mist that steamed up so thickly from the stones that the horses seemed to have no legs, but to float like boats. "Some distance further on," replied Carew, carelessly.
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