"But those times are bygone too, Mistress Nancy," said Moggy; "you have now your marriage lines, and are made an honest woman."
"Yes, and God keep me so, amen," replied Nancy mournfully.
Had not the night concealed it, a tear might have been seen by the others in the boat to trickle down the cheek of Nancy Corbett, as she was reminded of her former life; and as she again fixed her eyes upon the brilliant heavens, each particular star appeared to twinkle brighter, as if they rejoiced to witness tears like those.
"You must be light o' heart now, Mistress Nancy," observed Jemmy, soothingly.
"I am not unhappy," replied she, resting her cheek upon her hand.
"Mistress Nancy," said Moggy, "I should think a little of that stuff would do neither of us any harm; the night is rather bleak."
Moggy poured out a glass and handed it to Nancy; she drank it, and it saved her from a flood of tears, which otherwise she would have been unable to repress. In a minute or two, during which Moggy helped herself and the old boatman, Nancy's spirits returned.
"Do you know this air?" said Nancy to Jemmy, humming it.
"Yes, yes, I know it well, Mistress Nancy. Will you sing to it?"
Nancy Corbett who had been celebrated once for her sweet singing, as well as her beauty, immediately commenced in a soft and melodious tone, while Jemmy touched his fiddle.