"So had the youth Father William preached about yesterday, brought shame and disgrace on his family," interrupted the baker. "Yet he returned, and his father received him gladly."
"And if the poor prodigal had been ill and starving, repentant, and longing above all things for a sight of his father's face, yet too weak and too fearful to go to him," said Jack, eagerly, "do you not think that he and his father both would have been thankful to that man who had brought them face to face, who had carried news to the father that the son was languishing, perhaps dying, within his reach? Make the case your own, dear father, and tell me."
Master Lucas turned and looked at his son with tears in his honest blue eyes. "Jack, you are a strange lad for your years. I cannot understand what has made a man of you so suddenly. Even do as you will, and manage the matter your own way, my son. I cannot see what harm can come of it. If the knight should refuse to see his son, the poor young gentleman will at least be prevented from a bootless journey."
"He will not refuse," said Jack. "Then, with your leave, dear father, I will set out directly."
"As soon as you have rested a little and taken a good meal, my son. Nay, I must insist upon that much, or we shall have you ill again. Remember you are all the son, I had well-nigh said all the child, I have in the world. Get you down and send Simon to engage for your neighbor Fulford's pony. It is an easy beast to ride, and faster than my mule. It is a market-day, and the roads will be full of people, so you will have nothing to fear from robbers, or I would send Simon with you."
"I do not need him," said Jack. "Nobody would think of robbing a lad like me; and besides I doubt Simon would be no great safeguard. He has not the heart of a chicken. Father," added Jack, earnestly, "I do heartily thank you for trusting me so fully."
"When I see aught to distrust in you, it will be time to begin," said Master Lucas. "My blessing upon thee, dear lad. Thou hast never yet wilfully given thy father a heart-ache."
A pang shot through Jack's own breast, as he remembered how soon he might be called upon to do and suffer that which would wring his father's heart with anguish through no fault of his own. "Oh, if it were only myself," he reflected, as he sought his own chamber, "how easy it would all be to endure." And, dearly as he loved his father, Jack almost felt like praying that the good old man might be taken away from the evil to come, before the storm burst which Master Fleming had foretold.
Calmed and refreshed by his morning reading and prayers, Jack came down to his breakfast dressed for his journey, his sober, resolute face showing that his determination was unshaken.
Cicely exclaimed against his setting out on such a ride after he had been watching all night.