Therewith he takes his knife and saws away at his bushy beard until he had brought it down to a point, after the Portugals' mode. Then he begged me to crop the hair of his head, which I did forthwith; and to see me a-trimming his head with my sword was a sight to set any barber's teeth on edge. This done, he give me his sword to take charge of, and hides his knife inside his jacket, with my token for Lady Biddy. Then folding his arms on his chest, drawing up his shoulders to his ears, and putting on a most woe-begone look, he asks me if I think he will pass muster.
"Ay," says I, "you are horrid enough, in all conscience; but with those loathsome-seeming sores upon you I doubt if my cousin will care to take my token from your hand."
"Lord love you, master," says he with a laugh, "if you knew as much of females as I do you would have no doubt on that head. There's no disguise will deceive their eyes when they have a man in their thoughts; and," adds he in a graver tone, "there's no form of distress will make them shrink from a tender office."
He gave me his hand, bidding me farewell, and went his way with a shuffling gait and a sly leer back at me to show me he understood his business.
I watched him until he entered the fields, where the tall plants presently hid him from my sight. Then I bethought me to set adrift our boat, which might have excited curiosity and suspicion had it been seen by any one passing on the river; and this I did, after cutting the lianes that bound it, so that it might go to pieces as it went down with the current. After that, with a sling I managed to kill half a dozen birds, about the size of pigeons, and these I cooked in the midst of the wood, where the smoke from my fire might not be seen. Also I gathered some good fruit, and of this food I set by enough to serve for a meal when Matthew returned. Then I sat me down at that point whence my comrade had departed, watching for his return through the fields.
Hour after hour I sat there, turning my eyes neither to the right nor to the left, for my eagerness to see him again, and my thoughts all the while running on my dear lady; but no reflections worthy to be recorded. The sun sank and the twilight faded away; but the stars were bright in the sky before I heard any sign of Matthew; then I caught a snuffling, whining voice, which I knew to be his, crying:
"Is there 'ere a kind friend will give a bit to a poor sick seafaring man?" at the same time I perceived a figure coming towards me.
"What news, Matthew—what news?" I cried, running to meet him.
"Plenty," says he; "I've done a rare day's business."
"Lord be praised!" says I; "what have you learnt?"