"Ah! but my child--my child! Shall I leave her among strangers, or take
her into a world that will rob her of her wealth--innocence?"
"Gold will do much; there are many about the court of Oliver who love
the yellow colour and the pleasant chink of coin."
"No, I have other and stronger means of buying mercy. But mercy is not
all I want--I sometimes think, that were I to walk up to Whitehall,
banned as I am, Cromwell would not touch a hair of my head. I would say,
'God direct me for the best!' only I fear He has no thought of me,
except for my girl's sake: and, Robin, touching her, I must again say,
that----"
Whatever the Buccaneer would have added, Springall's entrance at the
moment prevented. He seemed delighted at meeting Robin, and inquired in
the same breath if he had been with his mother. Robin said, "No."
Springall then told him she was ill--fancied herself dying, and that, as
the old dame seemed so wishful to see Mistress Cecil, saying she had
something important to communicate to her, he had gone up to Cecil
Place, and found a strange messenger to do his bidding. Robin needed no
urging to seek his mother, whom he tenderly loved; and when he had left
the room, the Buccaneer could not help observing, that a parent's first
thoughts after a journey are with the child, but that a child does not
always first fly to the parent: "And yet," pursued Dalton, "the boy
loves his mother!"
"Captain o' mine," said the ever-joyous and affectionate sailor, who
deserved the attachment bestowed upon him by the skipper--"Captain o'
mine, I have news for you. You see, I sailed right for the old port,
and just as I was going to steer into harbour, I spied one of the
steel-caps lounging about the great gate, and peeping through the bars
like a lion that would and couldn't; but I knew he was one who could if
he would, and though I had a message for Mistress Cecil, yet I didn't
see the good of trusting him; and so I crowded sail to-leeward into the
Green Cave, and on under the arch that has openings enough; but no one
could I see until I was just by the church at Minster, when, on the
look-out, I got a glimpse of a sail, and suspecting it to be something
in the privateer line, I hove-to and used my trumpet, and who should it
turn out to be but the young Cromwell! and I couldn't for the life of me
help hoisting false colours and dealing in the spirit line; so she took
me for a ghost when I delivered Mother Hays's message to Mistress
Constantia: then she blew out like a nor'-wester, and flouted, and
called names; and what else do ye think she did? By Jove, she shouted,
'Below there!--turn out the guard!' and stamped her little foot. Never
trust me, if her ankle isn't as neatly turned as the smoothest whistle
that ever hung from a boatswain's neck! After a while she said something
about jugglery, and I called her a little Roundhead; and, to be sure,
how she did stamp! Then presently down tumbled Mistress Maud from the
steeple, where, I guess, she had been making observations, and Lady
Frances rated the waiting-maid soundly, which I didn't grudge her--the
frippery, insolent baggage! It isn't a month since she called me a chip
of the jib-boom and an ugly fellow!--Ugly fellow, indeed;" repeated
Springall, twitching up his trowsers--"I wonder what she meant by ugly
fellow!"