“Silence!” he said. “I have told you that this man is my cruel enemy. He has never forgiven me for robbing him of you.”
“You did not rob him,” she said tenderly. “But are you not mistaken in Mr Bayle?”
“You are, in your sweet womanly innocency and trustfulness. I tell you he is my enemy, and trying to hound me down.”
“Let me speak to him.”
“I forbid it,” he cried fiercely. “Choose your part. Are you with me or the men whom I know to be my enemies? Will you stand by me whatever happens?”
“You know,” she said, with a trustful smile in her eyes.
“That’s my brave wife,” he said. “This is better. If my enemies do get the better of me—if, for Crellock’s faults, charges are brought against me—if I am by necessity forced to yield, and think it better to go right away from here for a time—suddenly—will you come?”
“And leave my mother and father?”
“Are not a husband’s claims stronger? Tell me, will you go with me?”
“To the world’s end, Robert,” she cried, rising and throwing her arms about his neck. “I am glad that this trouble has come.”