‘“Be you hit anywhere to signify?” he says. “Come over to me.”
‘“O Lord, Mus’ Drake,” I says, “my legs won’t move,” and that was the last I spoke for months.’
‘Why? What had happened?’ cried Dan and Una together.
‘The rail had jarred me in here like.’ Simon reached behind him clumsily. ‘From my shoulders down I didn’t act no shape. Frankie carried me piggy-back to my Aunt’s house, and I lay bed-rid and tongue-tied while she rubbed me day and night, month in and month out. She had faith in rubbing with the hands. P’raps she put some of her gifts into it, too. Last of all, something loosed itself in my pore back, and lo! I was whole restored again, but kitten-feeble.
‘“Where’s Frankie?” I says, thinking I’d been a longish while abed.
‘“Down-wind amongst the Dons—months ago,” says my Aunt.
‘“When can I go after ’en?” I says.
‘“Your duty’s to your town and trade now,” says she. “Your Uncle he died last Michaelmas and he’ve left you and me the yard. So no more iron ships, mind ye.”
‘“What?” I says. “And you the only one that beleft in ’em!”
‘“Maybe I do still,” she says, “but I’m a woman before I’m a Whitgift, and wooden ships is what England needs us to build. I lay it on ye to do so.”