A DASH FOR FREEDOM 83

but a jest. Come, smooth thy throat, and do not shriek
no more. We play in old St. Albans town to-night, and
thou art to sing thy song for us again.”

Nick pressed his lips tight shut and shook his head. He
wouid not sing for them again.

“Come, Nick, I’ve promised Tom Heywood that thou
shouldst sing his song; and, lad, there ’s no one left in all
the land to sing it if thou ‘lt not. Tom doth dearly love
thee, lad—why, sure, thou hast seen that! And, Nick, I’ve
promised all the company that thou wouldst sing Tom’s
song with us to-night. ’T will break their hearts if thou
wilt not. Come, Nick, thou ‘It sing it for us all, and set
old Albans town afire!” said Carew, pleadingly.

Nick shook his head.

“Come, Nick,” said Carew, coaxingly, “we must hear
that sweet voice of thine in Albans town to-night. Come,
there ’s a dear, good lad, and give us just one little song!
Come, act the man and sing, as thou alone in all the world
canst sing, in Albans town this night; and on my word,
and on the remnant of mine honour, I ll leave thee go
back to Stratford town to-morrow morning!”

“To Stratford—to-morrow?” stammered Nick, with a
glad, incredulous ery, while his heart leaped up within
him.

“ Ay, verily ; upon my faith as the fine fag-end of a very
proper gentleman—thou shalt go back to Stratford town
to-morrow if thou wilt but do thy turn with us to-night.”

Nick caught the master-player’s arm as they rode along,
almost crying for very joy: “Oh, that I will, sir—and do