“I’m not going to run my head into trouble
for making a coil about what may be naught.
That’s what befell honest Mark Walton.
He thought he had seized matter of State, and went
up to Master Walsingham, swelling like an Indian turkey-cock,
with his secret letters, and behold they turned out
to be a Dutch fishwife’s charm to bring the
herrings. I can tell you he has rued the work
he made about it ever since. On the other hand,
let it get abroad through yonder prating fellow, Heatherthwayte,
or any other, that Master Richard Talbot had in his
house a child with, I know not what Popish tokens,
and a scroll in an unknown tongue, and I should be
had up in gyves for suspicion of treason, or may be
harbouring the Prince of Scotland himself, when it
is only some poor Scottish archer’s babe.”
“You would not have me part with the poor little
one?”
“Am I a Turk or a Pagan? No. Only
hold thy peace, as I shall hold mine, until such time
as I can meet some one whom I can trust to read this
riddle. Tell me—what like is the child?
Wouldst guess it to be of gentle, or of clownish
blood, if women can tell such things ?”
“Of gentle blood, assuredly,” cried the
lady, so that he smiled and said, “I might have
known that so thou wouldst answer.”
“Nay, but see her little hands and fingers,
and the mould of her dainty limbs. No Scottish
fisher clown was her father, I dare be sworn.
Her skin is as fair and fine as my Humfrey’s,
and moreover she has always been in hands that knew
how a babe should be tended. Any woman can tell
you that!”
“And what like is she in your woman’s
eyes? What complexion doth she promise?”
“Her hair, what she has of it, is dark; her
eyes—bless them—are of a deep
blue, or purple, such as most babes have till they
take their true tint. There is no guessing.
Humfrey’s eyes were once like to be brown,
now are they as blue as thine own.”
“I understand all that,” said Captain
Talbot, smiling. “If she have kindred,
they will know her better by the sign manual on her
tender flesh than by her face.”
“And who are they?”
“Who are they?” echoed the captain, rolling
up the scroll in despair. “Here, take it,
Susan, and keep it safe from all eyes. Whatever
it may be, it may serve thereafter to prove her true
name. And above all, not a word or breath to
Heatherthwayte, or any of thy gossips, wear they coif
or bands.”
“Ah, sir! that you will mistrust the good man.”
“I said not I mistrust any one; only that I
will have no word of all this go forth! Not
one! Thou heedest me, wife?”
“Verily I do, sir; I will be mute.”
