“Master Bold!  Master Bold!” came the voice again, and, venturing a little more, I put my head between the blind and the window, and saw a dark form against the clear summer sky.

“Master Bold, ’tis me, Joe Punchard,” said the voice in a whisper.  “Canst let me in, lad, without making a noise?”

Without more ado I lifted the sash gradually, for it was heavy and creaked, and I feared to rouse the household.  When it was high enough for Joe’s bulky form to pass through he clambered over the sill, and stood in my room.

“How did you get up, Joe?” I asked in a whisper.

“Got a ladder from the rick yard, lad.  I bin tapping for nigh half an hour, I reckon.  You be one of the seven sleepers, for sure.”

“But what do you want, Joe?  You can’t stay here, you know.”

“Nor don’t want to.  I be come to tell you, lad, I be going away.”

“Going away, Joe?”

“Yes.  No one knows it but you, and I wouldn’t ha’ telled you only the old mother will be in a rare taking when she finds me gone, and I want you to tell her as I’ve come to no harm.”

“But why, Joe?”

“Vetch—­that’s why.  ’Tis no place for me now, lad.  He bin cursing and swearing he’ll send me to the plantations for that business with the barrel, and he’ll keep his word.  And so I be going to run for it.”

“But where, Joe?  And what about your ’dentures?”

“That’s where it is:  my ’dentures must go too.  If I be catched, there’s a flogging and prison for that.  But I don’t mean to be catched.  Before the sun’s up I’ll be on my way to Bristowe.”

“That’s ever so far.”

“So ’tis, but not further than a pair of legs can walk.”

“And will you get a place with a cooper there?”

“No, no; no more coopering for me; I be done with barrels for good and all.  I be going to sea.”

“To sea!  What ever made you think of such a thing?”

“One thing and another.  And I won’t be the first, not even from such an upland place as Shrewsbury.  Why, haven’t we heard Mistress Hind tell time and again how her brother John Benbow ran away to sea nigh upon thirty years ago?”

“True, and so did Sam Blevins, and hasn’t been heard of since, Joe.”

“Well, if Vetch ships me to the plantations you may be sure no more will be heard of Joe Punchard, so ’tis as broad as ’tis long.”

“’Tis all my fault, Joe.  If I hadn’t run into the shop this wouldn’t have happened, and you’d have worked out your ’dentures, and maybe risen to be a partner with Mr. Mark.  I wish I had let them catch me, Joe, I do.”

“Now don’t you take on, Master Humphrey.  As for partners, I be sick of making barrels for other folks’ beer, that’s the truth, and by what I’ve heard there’s riches to be picked up in the Indies, and many a sea captain is a deal better off than Matthew Mark.  And I’m set on trying it, lad, the more so as, by long and short, I dursn’t stay in Shrewsbury no longer.  So you’ll be so good as go and see the old mother tomorrow, and tell her I be gone to sea, and I’ll send her home silks, and satins, and diamonds, too, maybe, and I’ll come home some day rich as creases, as I heard parson say once.”