“My beloved,” he said. And in the strong emphasis of the word there seemed to lurk all the pent-up passion of the long years of separation.
For the first time since that September morning when they had talked in the garden at Hereford, before hearing of Powick fight, their lips met in a kiss that was like a sacrament, and each knew that nothing could ever again part them.
But their happiness was short-lived, for the children ran through the gap in the hedge, and Little Meg said, breathlessly, “Mistress Hilary! there be someone coming into the orchard.”
“It looks like one of the officers from Canon Frome,” said Nan, uneasily, her mind dwelling on cattle-lifting and plundering.
“What if it should be Norton!” said Gabriel, trying to get up.
“You must not show yourself,” said Hilary, earnestly.
“All will be ruined if you are seen. Dear love, promise me, and then I shall have no fear.”
“’Tis true I should be worse than no defence,” said Gabriel, reluctantly.
Hilary hastily placed her cloak so as to screen him a little better from view, and made the children sit in the gap to block the way.
“Nan and Meg, you will not betray him, I know,” she said.