“It’s well that the boy acts with so good a man as Master Eliott!” exclaimed a woman who stood close to her hostess.
“Aye! John Eliott is a rare good player!” answered Mistress Harpham nervously. “We’ve never had a better ‘Abraham’ than he makes, and he’s taken such pains with Giles too, teaching him and training him for the part.”
“There he is! There he is!” cried Margery, as a pretty, delicate little figure in a linen tunic entered. “Oh! doesn’t he look nice!”
And indeed, with his fair curly hair and sweet face, Giles made quite a touching little Isaac.
“Hush! Hush! Abraham is speaking,” Master Gyseburn reminded her.
“Make thee ready, my darling,” he was saying in a voice which made Margery feel as though she wanted to cry:
“Make thee ready, my darling,
For we must do a little thing;
This wood upon thy back you bring,
We must not long abide.