"The land is too full of cut-throats for me," said he; "and 'tis lovely fair weather for the sea. Our Dutch skippers are not shipwrecked like these bungling Italians."
When he returned home there sat his old landlady with her eyes sparkling.
"You are in luck, my young master," said she. "All the fish run to your net this day methinks. See what a lacquey hath brought to our house! This bill and this bag."
Gerard broke the seals, and found it full of silver crowns. The letter contained a mere slip of paper with this line, cut out of some MS.—"La lingua non ha osso, ma fa rompere il dosso."
"Fear me not!" said Gerard, aloud. "I'll keep mine between my teeth."
"What is that?"
"Oh, nothing. Am I not happy, dame? I am going back to my sweetheart with money in one pocket, and land in the other." And he fell to dancing around her.
"Well," said she, "I trow nothing could make you happier."
"Nothing, except to be there."
"Well, that is a pity, for I thought to make you a little happier with a letter from Holland."