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CHAPTER XXXII
THE LAST OF GASTON CAREW

T was Monday morning, and a beautiful day.

Master Will Shakspere was reading a new play to
Masters Ben Jonson and Diccon Burbage at the Mermaid
Inn.

Thomas Pope, the player, and Peter Hemynge, the
manager, were there with them at the table under the
little window. The play was a comedy of a wicked money-
lender named Shylock; but it was a comedy that made
Nick shudder as he sat on the bench by the door and lis-
tened to it through happy thoughts of going home.

Sunday had passed like a wondrous dream. He was
free. Master Carew was donefor. On Saturday morning
Master Will Shakspere would set out on the journey to
Stratford town, for his regular summer visit there; and
Nick was going with him—going to Stratford—going
home!

The comedy-reading went on. Master Burbage, his
moving face alive, leaned forward on his elbows, nodding

now and then, and saying, “Fine, fine!” under his breath.
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