"Let him say it again!" growled Antony, his arm bared.

"No, don't, Humfrey!" as if she saw it between his clenched teeth.
"You know you only meant if Tony thought so, and he didn't. Now how
can you two be so foolish and unkind to me, to bring me out for a
holiday to eat blackberries and make heather crowns, and then go and
spoil it all with folly about Papists, and Spaniards, and grown-up
people's nonsense that nobody cares about!"

Cis had a rare power over both her comrades, and her piteous appeal
actually disarmed them, since there was no one present to make them
ashamed of their own placability. Grown-up people's follies were
avoided by mutual consent through the rest of the walk, and the three
children parted amicably when Antony had to return to fulfil his
page's duties at my lord's supper, and Humfrey and Cis carried home
their big basket of blackberries.

When they entered their own hall they found their mother engaged in
conversation with a tall, stout, and weather-beaten man, whom she
announced--"See here, my children, here is a good friend of your
father's, Master Goatley, who was his chief mate in all his voyages,
and hath now come over all the way from Hull to see him! He will be
here anon, sir, so soon as the guard is changed at the Queen's lodge.
Meantime, here are the elder children."

Diccon, who had been kept at home by some temporary damage to his
foot, and little Edward were devouring the sailor with their eyes;
and Humfrey and Cis were equally delighted with the introduction,
especially as Master Goatley was just returned from the Western Main,