ut his hand with a chisel, "so that I
cannot work my lathe, and having nothing to occupy my mind, do plague
myself beyond endurance."

Much concerned for my old friend, I lose no time in repairing to
Greenwich, where I find him sitting idle before his lathe, with an arm
hanging in a handkerchief, and his face very yellow; but this, I think,
was of drinking too much ale. And here he fell speedily discoursing of
Moll, saying he could not sleep of nights for thinking of the pranks she
used to play us, our merry vagabond life together in Spain ere we got to
Elche, etc., and how he missed her now more than ever he did before.
After that, as I anticipated, he came in a shuffling, roundabout way (as
one ashamed to own his weakness) to hinting at seeing Moll by stealth,
declaring he would rather see her for two minutes now and again peering
through a bush, though she should never cast a glance his way, than have
her treat him as if she were not his child and ceased to feel any love
for him. But seeing the peril of such ways, I would by no means consent
to his hanging about the Court like a thief, and told him plainly that
unless he would undo us all and ruin Moll, he must come openly as before
or not at all.

Without further demur he consents to be guided by me, and then, very
eagerly, asks when it will be proper for him to come; and we agree that
if he come in a week's time, there will be no thought in anybody's mind
of our having conspired to this end.

As the fates would have it, Mr. Godwin finished his painting on the
Saturday following (the most wonderful piece of its kind I ever saw, or
any one else, in my belief), and being justly proud of his work and
anxious Sir Peter Lely should see it soon, he resolved he would carry it
to Hatfield on Monday. Moll, who was prouder of her husband's piece than
if it were of her own doing, was not less eager it should be seen; yet
the thought that she must lose him for four days (for this journey could
not well be accomplished in less time) cast down her spirits
exceedingly. 'Twas painful to see her efforts to be cheerful despite of
herself. And, seeing how incapable she was of concealing her real
feeling from him whom she would cheer, she at length confessed to him
her trouble. "I would have you go, and yet I'd have you stay, love,"
says she.

"'Tis but a little while we shall be parted," says he.

"A little while?" says she, trembling and wringing one hand within the
other. "It