"Forgive me, Cousin Reuben," she said, "for my cross looks and shrewish ways. I see that I have acted altogether wrongly in the matter, and that neither you nor Diggory are to blame. I knew not that others were concerned, and thought that a mystery was being made because it was considered that, did I know it, I should run out and blab it in the streets of Plymouth. Now I know how it is, I am well content as to that; but not so, at the thought of this unknown peril into which you are about to run, and I wonder that Diggory should adventure your life, and that of Roger, upon such an expedition."
"It is my own proposal, Cousin Mercy, and Diggory has but yielded to my wishes. Roger is as hot for the adventure as I am, and we are both content to run what risks we may encounter, for the honor which we shall gain if we return safely home.
"And now, Roger, let us be going. Leave takings are sad things, and the shorter they are made, the better."
While these words had been said the girls, who sat on either side of Roger, were silently making their peace with him, by furtive squeezes of his hands below the table; and they burst into tears, as Roger and his father rose.
"Goodbye, Agnes," Roger said.
"Goodbye, Dorothy," and as he kissed her he whispered, "if I return, I will bring you the prettiest trinkets ever seen in Plymouth."
"Bring back yourself, Roger, and I shall be more than content," she replied.
In another minute they were gone, Diggory Beggs taking his hat and starting with them; telling his wife that he should not return until morning, as he should go on board the Swan with them, and remain until she sailed.
"You will not go before daybreak, Cousin Reuben?" Mistress Mercy asked.
"No; it will more likely be an hour after sunrise before we weigh anchor."