“Elfie! nonsense, my darling! You know that I love you more than life; and you know that I know you love me; and so——”
But before Albert Goldsborough had got off half of this fine speech, Elfie, who was resolved not to remain alone with him for a moment, had bounded past him and through the doorway, to find herself—on the bosom of Mutchison, who had spread out his arms to intercept her flight. Elfie immediately drove her nails into his face.
“Catamountains! Here! take her off me, colonel! I wouldn’t so much mind if she was my own sweetheart; but I’m dashed if I like to be clapper-clawed by yours! It don’t pay! It’s all thorns and no roses!” laughed the giant, as he tore Elfie away from his face and held her at arm’s length towards Goldsborough, who snatched her to his heart and began to speak to her.
But Elfie stuck her fingers in her ears and screamed until she woke all the mountain echoes.
Then Albert threw his right arm around her, and brought down her hands from her ears and held them firmly with his right hand, while with his left he covered her lips to stop her shrieks, and force her to hear him.
“Elfie,” he said, “you know that I love you more than life. And you know that I know you love me. And it is right that we should be married; but right or wrong, I am resolved to marry you to-day. Listen, you mad girl! Here you are in a guerrilla camp; the only woman in it. You have no longer Alberta’s protection. And unless you have a husband, what is to become of your good name? What do you suppose people will say of you?” he demanded, removing his hand from her lips.
“What do I suppose people will say of me? What do you suppose I care? Could they say worse of me than that I should be your wife?” fiercely demanded Elfie, struggling vainly to free herself.
“Yes, Elfie. You know very well that they may say far worse of you than that, unless I prevent them. But they never shall say it, Elfie. I have got the marriage license and the wedding ring, and the minister is in my hut, only waiting my message to come and marry us.”
“No minister will ever marry us against my consent!”
“Elfie, I have said that to the Reverend Mr. Simmons which convinces him that it is duty to marry us. Come, Mutchison; we have no more time to lose. Go fetch the parson,” ordered Albert Goldsborough.