“Ay, sir,” said Stephen, turning away, but in another moment bursting forth, “I love my master’s daughter, and she is to wed her cousin, who takes her as her father’s chattel! I wist not why the world had grown dark to me till I saw a comedy at Ardres, where, as in a mirror, ’twas all set forth—yea, and how love was too strong for him and for her, and how shame and death came thereof.” “Those players are good for nought but to wake the passions!” muttered Lucas. “Nay, methought they warned me,” said Stephen. “For, sir,”—he hid his burning face in his hands as he leant on the back of a chair—“I wot that she has ever liked me better, far better than him. And scarce a night have I closed an eye without dreaming it all, and finding myself bringing evil on her, till I deemed ’twere better I never saw her more, and left her to think of me as a forsworn runagate rather than see her wedded only to be flouted—and maybe—do worse.” “Poor lad!” said Lucas; “and what wouldst thou do?” “I have not pledged myself—but I said I would consider of—service among Fulford’s troop,” faltered Stephen. “Among those ruffians—godless, lawless men!” exclaimed Lucas. “Yea, I know what you would say,” returned Stephen, “but they are brave men, better than you deem, sir.” “Were they angels or saints,” said Lucas, rallying his forces, “thou hast no right to join them. Thine oath fetters thee. Thou hast no right to break it and do a sure and certain evil to avoid one that may never befall! How knowst thou how it may be? Nay, if the trial seem to thee over great, thine apprenticeship will soon be at an end.” “Not for two years” “Or thy master, if thou spakest the whole truth, would transfer thine indentures. He is a good man, and if it be as thou sayest, would not see his child tried too sorely. God will make a way for the tempted to escape. They need not take the devil’s way.” “Sir,” said Stephen, lifting up his head, “I thank you. Thus was what I needed. I will tell Sir John Fulford that I ought never to have heeded him.” “Must thou see him again?” “I must. I am to give him his answer at the Seven Stars. But fear not me, Master Lucas, he shall not lead me away.” And Stephen took a grateful leave of the little Dutchman, and charged himself with more messages for Ambrose and Tibble than his overburdened spirit was likely to retain. Lucas went down the stairs with him, and as a sudden thought, said at the foot of them, “’Tis at the Seven Stars thou meetest this knight. Take an old man’s counsel. Taste no liquor there.” “I am no ale bibber,” said Stephen. “Nay, I deemed thee none—but heed my words—captains of landsknechts in _kermesses_ are scarce to be trusted. Taste not.”