He was returning to the shore one day, after paying a duty visit to Hurst Court, where the ladies’ sympathy with him had been quite overwhelming, though he shrewdly guessed that their silken frocks had been cheaply come by, when he saw Mistress Joan, with a small flock of sheep before her, and a long osier wand in her hand, coming across the high ground from the marsh.
She instantly checked her pace, as if to give him an opportunity to pass before she and her flock came up with him. But he, of course, checked his speed too, and raised his hat with a deep bow as soon as she came near.
Joan threw back the heavy folds of her hooded cloak, and curtsied politely, but with a certain stately bashfulness which showed that his anxiety to meet her had scarcely been reciprocated.
Tregenna, however, was not to be daunted. He could not help feeling a strong interest in the spirited young creature, and his heart had leapt up at the chance of speaking with her again.
“Turned shepherdess, I perceive, Mistress Joan!” said he, leaving the road to meet her as he spoke.
“And not a very skilful one, I fear,” replied she, keeping her gaze fixed on the sheep, who showed a decided inclination to wander. “They belong to an old dame that lives on the edge of the marsh yonder; and I offered to bring them into the village, and to fold them for the night in our own meadow, that they might go to market to-morrow morning with those of a neighbor.”
“May I not assist you in your task? ’Tis no easy one, I see.”
“And have you no fear, sir, lest they should be the property of smugglers, or lest the wool which covers them be the receptacle of contraband goods, even as innocent hay may be?” asked she, with a certain demure mischief in her tone which piqued him.
“Well, madam, since you challenge me,” retorted Tregenna, “I own I may have reason for such thoughts; for you have shown a marked tenderness, if I must say so, towards the breakers of the law, even to assisting a criminal to escape, that had a warrant out against him.”
A change came over Joan’s handsome face. The look of mutinous mischief in her eyes gave place to a certain wistful kindliness even more attractive. And she spoke in such a tender, pleading, gentle voice that, if Tregenna had harbored any resentful feelings towards her, he must have been disarmed.