“Oh, he has come! Maman! voici notre bon Humphrey. Why did you stay so long? Why were you not there to save our pauvre père? Oh, I am glad to have you back. We shall be happy again.”
And she put up her face to be kissed, which I did with beating heart; for she had never looked to me so sweet, nor had her voice sounded so like music to my ears.
“They said you had deserted us,” said she, “but I knew it was a bad lie. Peter, méchant, what think you now, he has come back, our Humphrey? Go and tell maman, and Prosper and the little ones.”
You would have been sorry for Peter at that! His face was glum enough when I kissed my little mistress; but it looked fairly ugly when she sent him on this errand. What cared I? There were some yet who thought not ill of Humphrey Dexter.
Mistress Walgrave, my dear mistress, received me sadly yet kindly. Whether she had believed the false tales of my fellow ’prentice or not, I know not. But she had nothing but welcome for me when she heard my story. And when it was done she told me how she wished I had been home when all the trouble happened.
“’Tis as well this journey of yours failed,” said she. “It might have brought us even greater peril. Your master is too busy a man; one press was not enough for him, nor one libel. What they took was I know not what, some lamentable complaint, far less harmful than that we sewed in your cloak. How they knew of it, we know not.”
“And what is to be done now?” I asked.
“We cannot stay here,” said she, “Mistress Straw, kind as she is, hath not the room nor the means to keep us. Besides, my husband bade me, when this happened, seek shelter from Master Udal, the minister, at Kingston. To him we must go, anon. As for you and poor Peter—who means well, I think—I grieve for you. For I can give you neither work nor board.”
“Nay,” said I, “you are not done with me, mistress. I will at least see you and the little ones safe to Kingston. But first I would see my master, if I may.”
“You may try,” said she, brightening up, “but before that, you must have food, for you look weary and half-starved. Come, Jeannette, make ready something for breakfast, and do you, Peter, help us.”