down.' I sat on the
bank and looked, scarce believing my eyes, and looked, and presently
fell to crying, till I could see the words no more. Ah me, how they went
to my heart, those bare letters in a foreign land. Dear Richart! good,
kind brother Richart! often I have sat on his knee and rid on his back.
Kisses many he has given me, unkind word from him had I never. And there
was his name on his own ship, and his face and all his grave, but good
and gentle ways, came back to me, and I sobbed vehemently, and cried
aloud, 'Why, why is not brother Richart here, and not his name only?' I
spake in Dutch, for my heart was too full to hold their foreign tongues,
and

Eli. "Well, Richart, go on, lad, prithee go on. Is this a place to halt
at?"

Richart. "Father, with my duty to you, it is easy to say go on, but
think ye I am not flesh and blood? The poor boy's--simple grief and
brotherly love coming--so sudden-on me, they go through my heart and--I
cannot go on; sink me if I can even see the words, 'tis writ so fine."

Denys. "Courage, good Master Richart! Take your time. Here are more eyne
wet than yours. Ah, little comrade! would God thou wert here, and I at
Venice for thee."

Richart. "Poor little curly-headed lad, what had he done that we have
driven him so far?"

"That is what I would fain know," said Catherine drily, then fell to
weeping and rocking herself, with her apron over her head.

"Kind dame, good friends," said Margaret trembling, "let me tell you
how the letter ends. The skipper hearing our Gerard speak his grief in
Dutch, accosted him, and spake comfortably to him; and after a while
our Gerard found breath to say he was worthy Master Richart's brother.
Thereat was the good skipper all agog to serve him."

Richart. "So! so! skipper! Master Richart aforesaid will be at thy
wedding and bring's purse to boot."

Margaret. "Sir, he told Gerard of his consort that was to sail that
very night for Rotterdam; and dear Gerard had to go home and finish his
letter and bring it to the ship. And the rest, it is but his poor dear
words of love to me, the which, an't please you, I think shame to hear
them read aloud, and ends with the lines I sent to Mistress Kate, and
they would sound so harsh now and ungrateful."

The pleading tone, as much as the words, prevailed, and Richart said he
would read no more aloud, but run his eye over it for his own brotherly
satisfaction. She blushed and looked uneasy, but made no repl