“Come in, Robin!” called Johnson’s voice from within. “I could see thou wert bursting with some news not to be spoken in the presence but just gone. What ails thee, man?”
“Ay, I was, and I promised to tell you. Jack, thou must win away ere daylight, or the Bailiff shall be on thee. Set these little ones in safe guard, and hie thee away with all the speed thou mayest.”
“Is it come so near?” said Johnson, gravely.
“Father, you’re not going nowhere without me!” said Cissy, creeping up to him, and slipping her hand in his. “You can leave Will and Baby with Neighbour Ursula: but I’ll not be left unless you bid me—and you won’t Father? You can never do without me? I must go where you go.”
“She’s safe, I reckon,” said Robert, answering Johnson’s look: “they’d never do no mischief to much as she. Only maybe she’d be more out of reach if I took her with me. They’ll seek to breed her up in a convent, most like.”
Cissy felt her father’s hand tighten upon hers.
“I’m not going with you, nor nobody!” said she. “I’ll go with Father. Nobody’ll get me nowhere else, without they carry me.”
Johnson seemed to wake up, as if till then he had scarcely understood what it all meant.
“God bless thee for the warning, lad!” he said. “Now hie thee quick, and get out of reach thyself Cis, go up and fetch a warm wrap for Baby, and all her clothes; I’ll take her next door. I reckon Will must tarry there too. It’d be better for thee, Cis: but I’ll not compel thee, if thy little heart’s set on going with me. Thoul’t have to rough it, little maid.”
“I’ll not stop nowhere!” was Cissy’s determination.