Now, although Harry Tregenna was in a state of mind more nearly approaching perfect bliss than he had ever been before, with the knowledge that Joan Langney loved him fresh upon him, he could not but feel an uncanny chill when Ann Price uttered her mocking words of warning.
“The game’s not played out yet!”
He would have followed her, questioned her. But she knew every turn in the park much better than he; and after a few moments spent in looking for her, he gave up the search as an idle one.
After all, what could she do? Desperate and vindictive as he knew her to be, she could hardly go the length of trying to harm generous-hearted Joan. And as for what she might choose to attempt on his own person, Tregenna was ready to take the risks of war, which, indeed, could hardly be greater in the future than they had been in the past.
So he presently dismissed all thought of her, and gave himself up, heart and soul, to joyful thoughts of the beautiful, brave girl he had won. He lingered about for a little while, to give her time to break the news to her father, as she had herself wished to do. And when he thought they must have reached home, he turned his steps also in the direction of the Parsonage.
By the wistful look of emotion on Parson Langney’s rugged, kindly face, by the moisture in his eyes, the young man guessed that he had already been made aware that he was threatened with the loss of his fair daughter: and the first words he uttered, as he held out a shaking hand in welcome, confirmed this impression:
“So you’re going to take her away from me! Well, well, ’tis the way of all flesh!”
Tregenna assured him that they were in no hurry, that he was ready to wait any reasonable time: a week, a month, any period they might choose. He further assured the vicar that he would leave the service, and promised to settle down with his wife at no very great distance from Hurst Parsonage.
And although Parson Langney shook his head very lugubriously, and grumbled at the folly of a woman’s marrying before she was thirty, his jolly face soon grew brighter when Joan came in, and, putting her arms round his neck under her lover’s very nose, assured him that he was the nicest and handsomest man in the whole world, and that, if she were driven to get married, it should only be on compulsion, and on receiving her future husband’s assurance that she was her father’s girl still, and might be with him as much as she liked.
So they had a happy evening together, and when the young lieutenant bade them good night, and started on his way back to his boat, it was with never a thought of smugglers, or wreckers, builders of secret boats, or treacherous farmers’ daughters, to damp his spirits.