98 MASTER SKYLARK

home the spoils! And cheer up. It grieves my heart to
see thee sad. Be merry for my sake.”

“For thy sake?” gasped Nick, staring blankly in his
face. “Why, what hast thou done for me?” A sudden
sob surprised him, and he clenched his fists—it was too
eruel irony. “Why, sir, if thou wouldst only leave me
go ! ”

“Tut, tut!” cried Carew, angrily. “Still harping on
that same old string? Why, from thy waking face I
thought thou hadst dropped it long ago. Let thee go?
Not for all the wealth in Lombard street! Dost think me
a goose-witted gull?—and dost ask what I have done for
thee? Thou simpleton! I have made thee rise above the
limits of thy wildest dream—have shod thy feet with gold
—have filled thy lap with glory—have crowned thine head
with fame! And yet, ‘What have I done for thee?’ Fie!
Thou art a stubborn-hearted little fool. But, marry come
up! I’ll mend thy mind. I’l bend thy will to suit my
way, or break it in the bending!”

Clapping his hand upon his poniard, he turned his back,
and did not speak to Nick again.

And so they came down the Kentish Town road through
a meadow-land threaded with flowing streams, the wild
hill thickets of Hampstead Heath to right, the huddling
villages of Islington, Hoxton, and Clerkenwell to left. And
as they passed through Kentish Town, past Primrose Hill
into Hampstead way, solitary farm-houses and lowly cot-
tages gave way to burgher dwellings in orderly array, with
manor-houses here and there, and in the distance palaces