Helpless and desperate, for the sailors had lost all
control, I vowed that if the storm might abate and we come safe to
harbour I would--when I succeed to my father's lands in
Gloucestershire--give to the worthy Abbot of an Abbey adjoining our
estate, a meadow, concerning which he and his monks have long broken
the tenth commandment and other commands as well, a trout stream
running through it, and the dearest delight of the Abbot being fat
trout for supper; and of the monks, to lie on their bellies tickling
the trout as they hide in the cool holes under the banks of the stream.
But when my father finds the monks thus poaching, he comes up behind
them, and up they get quickly--or try to! So, in mid-channel,
remembering my sins, I remembered running to tell my father that if he
came quickly he would find the good Brothers flat on their bellies,
sleeves rolled back, heads hanging over the water, toes well tucked
into the turf, deeply intent upon tickling. Then I would run by a
short cut, hide in the hazels, and watch while my father stalked up
through the meadow, caught and belaboured the poachers. My derisive
young laughter seemed now to howl and shriek through the rigging. So I
vowed that if the storm abated and we came safe to port, the monks
should be given that meadow. Upon which the storm did abate, and to
port we came--and what my father will say, I know not! Fearing
vexation to you, my lord, from this untoward delay, on landing I rode
as fast as mine own good horse could carry me.
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