“But not a wife!” interrupted Frank, with a voice stifled with sobs; “that was too precious a gift for even Him to promise to those who gave up a first love for His sake!”

“And yet,” said he, after a moment’s silence, “has He not heaped me with blessings enough already, that I must repine and rage at His refusing me one more, even though that one be—­No, mother!  I am your son, and God’s; and you shall know it, even though Amyas never does!” And he looked up with his clear blue eyes and white forehead; and his face was as the face of an angel.

Both of them saw that Amyas was present, and started and blushed.  His mother motioned him away with her eyes, and he went quietly out, as one stunned.  Why had his name been mentioned?

Love, cunning love, told him all at once.  This was the meaning of last night’s canzonet!  This was why its words had seemed to fit his own heart so well!  His brother was his rival.  And he had been telling him all his love last night.  What a stupid brute he was!  How it must have made poor Frank wince!  And then Frank had listened so kindly; even bid him God speed in his suit.  What a gentleman old Frank was, to be sure!  No wonder the queen was so fond of him, and all the Court ladies!—­Why, if it came to that, what wonder if Rose Salterne should be fond of him too?  Hey-day!  “That would be a pretty fish to find in my net when I come to haul it!” quoth Amyas to himself, as he paced the garden; and clutching desperately hold of his locks with both hands, as if to hold his poor confused head on its shoulders, he strode and tramped up and down the shell-paved garden walks for a full half hour, till Frank’s voice (as cheerful as ever, though he more than suspected all) called him.

“Come in to breakfast, lad; and stop grinding and creaking upon those miserable limpets, before thou hast set every tooth in my head on edge!”

Amyas, whether by dint of holding his head straight, or by higher means, had got the thoughts of the said head straight enough by this time; and in he came, and fell to upon the broiled fish and strong ale, with a sort of fury, as determined to do his duty to the utmost in all matters that day, and therefore, of course, in that most important matter of bodily sustenance; while his mother and Frank looked at him, not without anxiety and even terror, doubting what turn his fancy might have taken in so new a case; at last—­

“My dear Amyas, you will really heat your blood with all that strong ale!  Remember, those who drink beer, think beer.”

“Then they think right good thoughts, mother.  And in the meanwhile, those who drink water, think water.  Eh, old Frank? and here’s your health.”

“And clouds are water,” said his mother, somewhat reassured by his genuine good humor; “and so are rainbows; and clouds are angels’ thrones, and rainbows the sign of God’s peace on earth.”

Amyas understood the hint, and laughed.  “Then I’ll pledge Frank out of the next ditch, if it please you and him.  But first—­I say—­he must hearken to a parable; a manner mystery, miracle play, I have got in my head, like what they have at Easter, to the town-hall.  Now then, hearken, madam, and I and Frank will act.”  And up rose Amyas, and shoved back his chair, and put on a solemn face.