"Aye, plenty if you have a mind to work," he answered. "Sit down now,
and take pen and paper and write what I shall tell you."
Then he dictated a short letter to me as to shipping wine from Spain,
and when it was sanded, read it carefully.
"You have it right," he said, seeming pleased, "and your script is
clear if boyish. They taught you none so ill yonder at Hastings where
I thought you had only learned to handle ropes and arrows. Work? Yes,
there is plenty of it of the more private sort which I do not give to
this scribe or to that who might betray my secrets. For know," he went
on in a stern voice, "there is one thing which I never pardon, and it is
betrayal. Remember that, nephew Hubert, even in the arms of your loves,
if you should be fool enough to seek them, or in your cups."
So he talked on, and while he did so went to an iron chest that he
unlocked, and thence drew out a parchment roll which he bade me take to
my workroom and copy there. I did so, and found that it was an inventory
of his goods and estates, and oh! before I had done I wished that there
were fewer of them.
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