“And thou wouldst sooner chip stones than be in my household? By my faith it seems a strange choice!”
Poor Hugh! It was all he could do to keep the tears back from his eyes.
“I would rather be in your household, sir, than anywhere in the world,” he said in a choked voice.
“Sayest thou so?” returned Sir Thomas loudly. “Then, wherefore not? Thy master would do me a favour, I make no doubt, and cancel thy bond, and it would pleasure my little Nell if I took thee and the monkey back with me, though I know not how Wolf would behave. Speak up, without fear, and tell me if thou art willing.”
Willing! Every longing in his heart leapt up and cried out to be satisfied. Willing! What would he not give for such a life! It danced up and down before him decked in brightest colours, while on the other side he seemed to hear Franklyn’s ceaseless rebukes, and to feel all the weariness of unsuccessful toil. Willing!
But then at that moment his eye fell upon the towers of the Cathedral, and from the building, faint but sweet, there came the sound of young voices chanting the praises of the Lord. And with the sound rushed upon him the remembrance of his father’s words, of the promise he had made, of all the wood-carver’s hopes, and fears, and longings! Could he disappoint him? He covered his face with his hands and sobbed out, “Noble sir, I would, I would, but I can not!”
“Wherefore?”
“My father—he would have me a carver.”
Sir Thomas was silent, but perhaps thinking to pleasure him, the chaplain pushed the matter.
“But thou mayest choose for thyself now that thy father is dead.”