"And a pot of my spiced confection of cherries," added Madam Barbara. "They are very cordial to a weak stomach. But mayhap Master Jack is too fine a gentleman to carry such a large basket through the streets."
"I would cuff his ears soundly, if I caught him in any such foppery," said Master Lucas.
"And I give you full leave to do so," returned Jack, laughing. "Do but have the matters ready, and I will set out without delay."
As I have said before, Mary Brent's circumstances had greatly improved of late. She had repaired her house, which had once been a good one, and frequently took lodgers. These were generally of a very profitable kind, being ship-masters and mates, who spent their money freely, ate and drank of the best, and made many a valuable present to the gentle retiring widow and her pretty little daughter. She was standing on her own doorstep as Jack came up, talking with a neighbor who seemed to be rather out of humor.
"Oh, very well! Mighty well, Neighbor Brent!" she said, as Jack came up. "If you can afford to take a penniless stranger into your best room and keep him for goodness knows how long without the least hope of any pay, why, 'tis no concern of mine."
Mary looked as though she were decidedly of the same opinion, but she answered gently—
"It is no more than I should like to have some woman do for my boy, if he were wrecked and landed in a strange place, neighbor."
"All that is mighty fine," said Dame Higgins, tossing her head. "What I say is, 'let every herring hang by its own head.' If you don't look out for yourself, nobody will look out for you. Take care of number one, is my motto; and it has served me well so far. Take my advice, let this man be carried and laid where he belongs, at the convent door, and let the monks take care of him."
"I shall do no such thing," said Mary Dean. "Much beholden to you for your advice, neighbor; but I am not yet so poor as to turn a poor shipwrecked sailor out of my house. I wonder you dare think of such a thing after the sermon Sir William preached to us only yesterday about the poor man that fell among the thieves."
"Oh, Sir William, Sir William," returned the woman, scornfully. "Sir William had better look out for himself. He is an arrant Gospeller and Lutheran, unless he is much miscalled; and we all know what that comes to. Just as you like, but you are a fool for your pains. The next time your children want bread, don't come to me, that's all."