All that he said I forget, but the upshot of it was that he desired to know what my business was with his daughter.
I waited till he was out of breath, then answered him that Lily and I loved each other well, and were plighting our troth.
‘Is this so, daughter?’ he asked.
‘It is so, my father,’ she answered boldly.
Then he broke out swearing.
‘You light minx,’ he said, ‘you shall be whipped and kept cool on bread and water in your chamber.
And for you, my half-bred Spanish cockerel, know once and for all that this maid is for your betters.
How dare you come wooing my daughter, you empty pill-box, who have not two silver pennies to rattle in your pouch!
Go win fortune and a name before you dare to look up to such as she.’
‘That is my desire, and I will do it, sir,’ I answered.
‘So, you apothecary’s drudge, you will win name and place, will you!
Well, long before that deed is done the maid shall be safely wedded to one who has them and who is not unknown to you.
Daughter, say now that you have finished with him.’
‘I cannot say that, father,’ she replied, plucking at her robe.
‘If it is not your will that I should marry Thomas here, my duty is plain and I may not wed him.
But I am my own and no duty can make me marry where I will not.
While Thomas lives I am sworn to him and to no other man.’
‘At the least you have courage, hussey,’ said her father.
‘But listen now, either you will marry where and when I wish, or tramp it for your bread.
Ungrateful girl, did I breed you to flaunt me to my face?
Now for you, pill-box. I will teach you to come kissing honest men’s daughters without their leave,’ and with a curse he rushed at me, stick aloft, to thrash me.
Then for the second time that day my quick blood boiled in me, and snatching up the Spaniard’s sword that lay upon the grass beside me, I held it at the point, for the game was changed, and I who had fought with cudgel against sword, must now fight with sword against cudgel.
And had it not been that Lily with a quick cry of fear struck my arm from beneath, causing the point of the sword to pass over his shoulder, I believe truly that I should then and there have pierced her father through, and ended my days early with a noose about my neck.
‘Are you mad?’ she cried.
‘And do you think to win me by slaying my father?
Throw down that sword, Thomas.’
‘As for winning you, it seems that there is small chance of it;’ I answered hotly, ‘but I tell you this, not for the sake of all the maids upon the earth will I stand to be beaten with a stick like a scullion.’
‘And there I do not blame you, lad,’ said her father, more kindly.
‘I see that you also have courage which may serve you in good stead, and it was unworthy of me to call you “pill-box” in my anger.
Still, as I have said, the girl is not for you, so be gone and forget her as best you may, and if you value your life, never let me find you two kissing again.
And know that to-morrow I will have a word with your father on this matter.’
‘I will go since I must go,’ I answered, ‘but, sir, I still hope to live to call your daughter wife.
Lily, farewell till these storms are overpast.’
‘Farewell, Thomas,’ she said weeping.
‘Forget me not and I will never forget my oath to you.’
Then taking Lily by the arm her father led her away.
I also went away—sad, but not altogether ill-pleased. For now I knew that if I had won the father’s anger, I had also won the daughter’s unalterable love, and love lasts longer than wrath, and here or hereafter will win its way at length.
When I had gone a little distance I remembered the Spaniard, who had been clean forgotten by me in all this love and war, and I turned to seek him and drag him to the stocks, the which I should have done with joy, and been glad to find some one on whom to wreak my wrongs.
But when I came to the spot where I had left him, I found that fate had befriended him by the hand of a fool, for there was no Spaniard but only the village idiot, Billy Minns by name, who stood staring first at the tree to which the foreigner had been made fast, and then at a piece of silver in his hand.
‘Where is the man who was tied here, Billy?’ I asked.
‘I know not, Master Thomas,’ he answered in his Norfolk talk which I will not set down.
‘Half-way to wheresoever he was going I should say, measured by the pace at which he left when once I had set him upon his horse.’
‘You set him on his horse, fool?
How long was that ago?’
‘How long!
Well, it might be one hour, and it might be two.
I’m no reckoner of time, that keeps its own score like an innkeeper, without my help.
Lawks! how he did gallop off, working those long spurs he wore right into the ribs of the horse.
And little wonder, poor man, and he daft, not being able to speak, but only to bleat sheeplike, and fallen upon by robbers on the king’s roads, and in broad daylight.
But Billy cut him loose and caught his horse and set him on it, and got this piece for his good charity.