“Give me your love, and I have all I need,” she cried, laughing, as she clung to him.
“Then you must be very rich,” he said. “But is there nothing? Come, you are a free agent now. In another week you will be my own—my property, my slave, bound to me by a ring. Come, use your liberty while you can.”
“Well, then, yes,” she said; “I will make a demand or two.”
“That’s right; I am the slave yet, and obey. What is the first wish?”
“I like Sir Gordon, dear; he has always been so good and kind to me. Ask him to come.”
“Too late. He left the town by coach this evening. From a hint he dropped to Thickens about his letters, I think he has gone to Hull, and is going on to Spain.”
“Oh!”
It was an ejaculation full of pain and sorrow.
“I am grieved,” she said softly, and the news brought up that day when he had made her the offer of his hand.
Hallam watched her mobile face and its changes as she gazed straight before her, towards where the moon was beginning to flood the leaden roof of the old church, the crenulated wall, and the crockets on the tall spire standing out black and clear against the sky.