LOCKED HARBORS
"But of what use is a King's patent," said Hugh Thorne of Bristol, "if the harbors be locked?"
The Italian merchant glanced up from his papers and smiled, which was all the answer the Englishman seemed to expect, for he stormed on, "Here have we better fleeces than Spain, better wheat than France, finer cattle than the Netherlands, the tin of Cornwall, the flax of Kent and Durham, and our people starve or live rudely because of the fettering of our trade."
"'T is a sad misfortune," said the merchant. "In a world so great as this there is surely room for all to work and all to get reward for their labor. But so long as the English merchant guilds wear away their time and substance in fighting one another I fear 't will be no better."
Thorne flung his cloak about him with an impatient gesture. "That's true," he answered, "the Spaniards hold by Spain, and all the Hanse merchants by one another, but our English go every man for himself and the devil take the hindmost. I speak freely to you, friend, because you have cast in your lot with us West Country folk and are content to be called John Cabot."
The other smiled again, his quick childlike smile, and went with his guest to the door. When he entered again his small private room a dark-eyed boy of five was crawling out from under the table.
"Dad," he inquired solemnly, "vat is a locked harbor?"
John Cabot laughed and swung his little son to his shoulder. "That is a great question for a little brain," he said fondly. "But see thee here; suppose I put thee in the chest and shut the lid and turn the key; thou art locked in and canst not get out—so! But now I put thee out of door and set the bandog to guard it; thou art locked out though the door be wide open, seest thou? And when I forbid thee to pick up the plums that fall on the grass from the Frenchman's damson tree, they are as safe as if I locked them in the dresser here, are they not? So 't is when the King forbids his people to send their goods to some harbor; it is the same as if a great chain were stretched across that harbor with a great lock upon it. Now run and play with Ludovico and Santo, Sebastiano mio, and be glad thou art free of a pleasant garden."
But Sebastian still hung back, his dark head rubbing softly against his father's shoulder. "When I am a great merchant," he announced, "the King will let me send my ships all over the world."
John Cabot stroked the wavy dark hair with a lingering, tender touch. "God grant thee thy wish, little one," he said. And Sebastian, with a shout in answer to a call from the sunny out-of-door world, scampered away.