“I no longer need one,” said John.
How happy was Dami, as he sprang into the log-hut with his silver-mounted pipe; but who would have believed that he could have made so clever a joke. After a moment he came back with the hat and long coat of Mathew on, and a lighted torch in each hand. With the utmost gravity of tone and manner, he addressed the betrothed lovers,—
“John, I have brought a couple of torches with which to light you home. How came you to think you could take my sister from me? I am her adult brother; you must receive her from me, and until I say yes, all goes for nothing.”
Amrie laughed gayly, and John made a formal request to Dami for the hand of his sister. Dami would have carried the joke still further, for he was proud of the part in which he had succeeded so well; but Amrie knew that he could not be depended upon, and that he would commit some folly. She had seen already that he had stretched his hand more than once towards John’s watch-seals, and had drawn it back again without touching them. She spoke, therefore, in a severe tone, as to a young child,—
“That is enough; you have done well; now let it pass.”
Dami assumed again his own character, and said to John, “It is all right you have a steel-bound wife, and I a silver-bound pipe.” As nobody laughed, he added,—“Ah, brother-in-law, you did not know that you had so wise a relation. What say you, brother-in-law? We are both of one stock, brother.” It seemed in his joy that he could not say brother-in-law too often.
At length they mounted, and when they had ridden a short distance, Dami called after them,—
“Brother, don’t forget my leather breeches!” Merry laughter answered him, and then again the music of their songs, as the lovers rode on in the moonlight.
