“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.”
Stephen gave a sort of laugh at the precaution, and shook himself loose. It was still an hour to the time of meeting, and the Ave-bell was ringing. A church door stood open, and for the first time since he had been at Gravelines he felt that there would be the calm he needed to adjust the conflict of his spirits, and comprehend the new situation, or rather the recurrence to the old one. He seemed to have recovered his former self, and to be able to perceive that things might go on as before, and his heart really leapt at finding he might return to the sight of Dennet and Ambrose and all he loved.
His wishes were really that way; and Fulford’s allurements had become very shadowy when he made his way to the Seven Stars, whose vine-covered window allowed many loud voices and fumes of beer and wine to escape into the summer evening air.