ad been under her dominion, and
proceeded to persuade her. "Good now, Nurse Joan, what have I denied
these rash striplings that my father would have granted them? Wouldst
thou have them carry all their portion in their hands, to be cozened of
it at the first alehouse, or robbed on the next heath?"

"I would have thee do a brother's honest part, John Birkenholt. A
loving part I say not. Thou wert always like a very popple for
hardness, and smoothness, ay, and slipperiness. Heigh ho! But what is
right by the lads, thou _shalt_ do."

John cowered under her eye as he had done at six years old, and
faltered, "I only seek to do them right, nurse."

Nurse Joan uttered an emphatic grunt, but Mistress Maud broke in, "They
are not to hang about here in idleness, eating my poor child's
substance, and teaching him ill manners."

"We would not stay here if you paid us for it," returned Stephen.

"And whither would you go?" asked John.

"To Winchester first, to seek counsel with our uncle Birkenholt. Then
to London, where uncle Randall will help us to our fortunes."

"Gipsy Hal! He is more like to help you to a halter," sneered John,
_sotto voce_, and Joan herself observed, "Their uncle at Winchester will
show them better than to run after that there go-by-chance."

However, as no one wished to keep the youths, and they were equally
determined to go, an accommodation was come to at last. John was
induced to give them three crowns apiece and to yield them up the five
small trinkets specified, though not without some murmurs from his wife.
It was no doubt safer to leave the rest of the money in his hands than
to carry it with them, and he undertook that it should be forthcoming,
if needed for any fit purpose, such as the purchase of an office, an
apprentice's fee, or an outfit as a squire. It was a vague promise that
cost him nothing just then, and thus could be readily made, and John's
great desire was to get them away so that he could aver that they had
gone by their own free will, without any hardship, for he had seen
enough at his father's obsequies to show him that the love and sympathy
of all the scanty dwellers in the Forest was with them.

Nurse Joan had fought their battles, but with the sore heart of one who
was parting with her darlings never to see them again. She bade them
doff their suits of mourning that she might make up their fardels, as
they would travel in their Lincoln-green suits. To take these