50 MASTER SKYLARK

him, until his silly young head was quite turned, and he
sat up and gave himself a few airs—not many, for Strat-
ford was no great place in which to pick up airs.

When they had eaten they wanted Nick to sing; but
again Carew interposed. “Nay,” said he; “he hath just
eaten his fill, so he cannot sing. Moreover, he is no jack-
daw to screech in such a cage as this. He shall not sing
until to-morrow in the play.”

At this some of the leading players who held shares in
the venture demurred, doubting if Nick could sing at
all; but—“ Hark ’e,” said Master Carew, shortly, clapping
his hand upon his poniard, “I say that he can. Do ye
take me?”

So they said no more; and shortly after’ he took Nick
away, and left them over their tankards, singing uproar-
iously.

The Blue Boar Inn had not a bed to spare, nor had the
players kept a place for Carew; at which he smiled
grimly, said he ’d not forget it, and took lodgings for
himself and Nick at the Three Tuns in the next street.

Nick spoke indeed of his mother’s cousin, with whom
he had meant to stay, but the master-player protested
warmly ; so, little loath, and much flattered by the atten-
tions of so great a man, Nick gave over the idea and said
no more about it.

When the chamberlain had shown them to their room
and they were both undressed, Nick knelt beside the bed
and said a prayer, as he always did at home. Carew
watched him curiously. It was quiet there, and the light