'By the holy faith which we profess in common,' said the hostess, 'you leave your mother in good hands.'
'I am sure of that, and consequently depart with confidence,' said Oswald, leading the inconsolable maiden to her mother's bed-side.
With bright eyes the mother placed her daughter's hand in that of Oswald. 'Be ye one, here and hereafter!' cried she. 'That is my blessing upon your espousals; and now let me beg of you to go directly, without any leave-taking, for which I have not strength, and which will rob you of time, every moment of which is invaluable.'
Faith attempted to speak again, but her mother pointed towards the door, and Oswald led her forth.
CHAPTER XVII.
Daylight had long since disappeared when Oswald and Faith alighted from their wagon at a solitary inn beyond the Bohemian boundary. 'Here you are for the present in safety,' said the conductor who had brought them from Friedland, knocking at the door. 'The people of the house are honest, and of our faith at heart. The vicinity is full of secret Hussites.'
'Who comes so late?' asked a little, dark-complexioned old woman, opening the door with her hand held before a flickering torch.
'A young wedded pair, mother Thekla,' answered the conductor, 'who are fleeing before the converters. Receive them kindly and take good care of them. God will reward you for it.'
'It is but our duty,' said the woman. 'Come in, poor creatures.'
'Farewell,' said the conductor to Oswald. 'I intend to return directly; for my wife and children may not be safely left without a protector among the reckless soldiery.'