'I was always likeable with children.' His smile crinkled up through the hair round his eyes. 'Simple Simon they used to call me through our yard gates.'
'Did Sir Francis mock you?' Dan asked.
'Ah, no. He was gentle-born. Laugh he did - he was always laughing - but not so as to hurt a feather. An' I loved 'en. I loved 'en before England knew 'en, or Queen Bess she broke his heart.'
'But he hadn't really done anything when you knew him, had he?' Una insisted. 'Armadas and those things, I mean.'
Simon pointed to the scars and scrapes left by Cattiwow's great log. 'You tell me that that good ship's timber never done nothing against winds and weathers since her up-springing, and I'll confess ye that young Frankie never done nothing neither.
Nothing? He adventured and suffered and made shift on they Dutch sands as much in any one month as ever he had occasion for to do in a half-year on the high seas afterwards. An' what was his tools? A coaster boat - a liddle box o' walty plankin' an' some few fathom feeble rope held together an' made able by him sole. He drawed our spirits up In our bodies same as a chimney-towel draws a fire. 'Twas in him, and it comed out all times and shapes.'
'I wonder did he ever 'magine what he was going to be? Tell himself stories about it?' said Dan with a flush.
'I expect so. We mostly do - even when we're grown. But bein' Frankie, he took good care to find out beforehand what his fortune might be. Had I rightly ought to tell 'em this piece?'
Simon turned to Puck, who nodded.
'My Mother, she was just a fair woman, but my Aunt, her sister, she had gifts by inheritance laid up in her,' Simon began.
'Oh, that'll never do,' cried Puck, for the children stared blankly. 'Do you remember what Robin promised to the Widow Whitgift so long as her blood and get lasted?" [See 'Dymchurch Flit' in PUCK OF POOK'S HILL.]
'Yes. There was always to be one of them that could see farther through a millstone than most,' Dan answered promptly.
'Well, Simon's Aunt's mother,' said Puck slowly, 'married the Widow's blind son on the Marsh, and Simon's Aunt was the one chosen to see farthest through millstones. Do you understand?'
'That was what I was gettin' at,' said Simon, 'but you're so desperate quick. My Aunt she knew what was comin' to people.
My Uncle being a burgess of Rye, he counted all such things odious, and my Aunt she couldn't be got to practise her gifts hardly at all, because it hurted her head for a week after-wards; but when Frankie heard she had 'em, he was all for nothin' till she foretold on him - till she looked in his hand to tell his fortune, d'ye see? One time we was at Rye she come aboard with my other shirt and some apples, and he fair beazled the life out of her about it.
'"Oh, you'll be twice wed, and die childless," she says, and pushes his hand away.
'"That's the woman's part," he says. "What'll come to me-to me?" an' he thrusts it back under her nose.
'"Gold - gold, past belief or counting," she says. "Let go o' me, lad."
'"Sink the gold!" he says. "What'll I do, mother?" He coaxed her like no woman could well withstand. I've seen him with 'em - even when they were sea-sick.
'"If you will have it," she says at last, you shall have it. You'll do a many things, and eating and drinking with a dead man beyond the world's end will be the least of them. For you'll open a road from the East unto the West, and back again, and you'll bury your heart with your best friend by that road-side, and the road you open none shall shut so long as you're let lie quiet in your grave."
[The old lady's prophecy is in a fair way to come true, for now the Panama Canal is finished, one end of it opens into the very bay where Sir Francis Drake was buried. So ships are taken through the Canal, and the road round Cape Horn which Sir Francis opened is very little used.]
'"And if I'm not?" he says.
'"Why, then," she says, "Sim's iron ships will be sailing on dry land. Now ha' done with this foolishness. Where's Sim's shirt?"
'He couldn't fetch no more out of her, and when we come up from the cabin, he stood mazed-like by the tiller, playing with a apple.
'"My Sorrow!" says my Aunt; "d'ye see that? The great world lying in his hand, liddle and round like a apple."
'"Why, 'tis one you gived him," I says.
'"To be sure," she says. "'Tis just a apple," and she went ashore with her hand to her head. It always hurted her to show her gifts.
Him and me puzzled over that talk plenty. It sticked in his mind quite extravagant. The very next time we slipped out for some fetchin' trade, we met Mus' Stenning's boat over by Calais sands; and he warned us that the Spanishers had shut down all their Dutch ports against us English, and their galliwopses was out picking up our boats like flies off hogs' backs. Mus' Stenning he runs for Shoreham, but Frankie held on a piece, knowin' that Mus Stenning was jealous of our good trade. Over by Dunkirk a great gor-bellied Spanisher, with the Cross on his sails, came rampin' at us. We left him. We left him all they bare seas to conquest in.
'"Looks like this road was going to be shut pretty soon," says Frankie, humourin' her at the tiller. "I'll have to open that other one your Aunt foretold of."
'"The Spanisher's crowdin' down on us middlin' quick," I says.
No odds," says Frankie, "he'll have the inshore tide against him. Did your Aunt say I was to be quiet in my grave for ever?"
'"Till my iron ships sailed dry land," I says.
'"That's foolishness," he says. "Who cares where Frankie Drake makes a hole in the water now or twenty years from now?"
'The Spanisher kept muckin' on more and more canvas. I told him so.
'"He's feelin' the tide," was all he says. "If he was among Tergoes Sands with this wind, we'd be picking his bones proper.
I'd give my heart to have all their tall ships there some night before a north gale, and me to windward. There'd be gold in My hands then. Did your Aunt say she saw the world settin' in my hand, Sim?"
Yes, but 'twas a apple," says I, and he laughed like he always did at me. "Do you ever feel minded to jump overside and be done with everything?" he asks after a while.
