"Verily, I think you do, and a drowned owl at that," said Jack to himself. "I crave your pardon once more, father," said he aloud. "Pray you, drink this. It is good of its kind, for my father gets it of one of his cousins who trades with the Low Countries."
The priest drank off the contents of the cup with a readiness and gusto which seemed to show that he was not altogether unaccustomed to such medicines.
"Verily, thy father knows what is good," said he in a mollified tone, returning the cup and smacking his lips. "I would I could have to do with that same merchant, for the trader in Bridgewater sells villainous stuff, and wofully dear. Ah, alt that warms one's heart, certainly."
"Take another portion, an't please you," said Jack, replenishing the cup once more. "When I return home, or have a chance of sending, I will ask my father to send your reverence a bottle, and I am sure he will do so with pleasure."
"Thou art a good lad after all," said the priest, whom the second cup of spirits put into high good humor. "Only beware thou meddle not with things too high for thee, lest thou fall into the snare of the wicked; and the next time you throw a stone, see where it is going to light. Oh, I am marvellously restored. I think with the help of your arm, I could walk to the tree yonder where I left my mule."
"Shall I not go home with you to your own house?" asked Jack, who saw that the priest's head was beginning to be affected by the liquor he had drank. "You may be attacked with giddiness by the way, and perhaps have another fall."
"Do so, do so, my dear son," replied Sir John. "Why, you are a good lad after all, as I said but now, and surely no heretic as that pestilent conceited clerk of mine pretends. 'Twas he got me into this scrape, a plague upon him! I should have never thought of listening but for him."
"Oh ho! Then you were listening," thought Jack, "and I dare say Master Sacristan has been listening too. I will cut down that thorn tomorrow, and set old Bevis to watch."
"If folk would only mind their own business, there would be none of this trouble," continued Sir John, whose tongue was thoroughly loosed. "Here is Father Barnaby now has been lecturing me about seeking out heretics in my parish and watching who comes to mass. I am sure, if the heretics will let me alone, I am willing to let them alone; and as to the people coming to mass, let them come or go as it pleases them, so long as they pay their dues and live in peace. Say you not so, my son?"
"Indeed I do, father," replied Jack; "and besides, it stands to reason, that if people pay their dues they can be no heretics; does it not?"