She looked at him round-eyed.
"You wretch!" she cried; but his arms were close about her, and she was powerless.
"Oh, yes. And my great dog it was as I kept hid on a chain by day. And when he frightened you into the water that night, I was behind him and had you out again and in my arms in half a second. And then I carried you away from the river, and when I held you in my arms I knew you'd be my wife or nobody would."
"Thank the watching Lord 'twas you!" she gasped.
"I waited till I see you come to and knew you'd be all right then; but I followed you, to see what you was up to, and didn't go home till I saw you drive away with the doctor. My dog was my joy till that night—a great mongrel I picked up when I was to Plymouth and kept close of a day. Clever as Satan at finding fallen birds in the dark, though unfortunately he didn't find 'em all. But after the happenings I took him back to Plymouth again on the quiet, and he won't frighten nobody no more."
Then 'twas her turn and she dressed him down properly and gave him all the law and the prophets, and made him promise on his oath that he'd never do no more crimes, or kill fur or feather that didn't belong by rights to him.
And he swore and kept his oath most steadfast.
"I've catched the finest creature as ever harboured in Dean Woods," he said, "and her word be my law for evermore."
But nobody else heard the truth that Wade was the unknown sinner, for Millicent felt as her father would have been cruel vexed about it.
They was wed in the summer and Wade found open-air work to his taste not a mile from their home. But often, good lovers still, they'll go to Hound's Pool for memory's sake and sit and hear Weaver Knowles working unseen about his task.