“Now you tell her, Tom, all about herself,” argued Biddy, “for if you don’t there is no way for you to ask her to marry you.”
Again the man shuddered.
“I cannot tell her I found her in prison,” said he, with a very white face, “for then she would ask me how I came there.”
“Tell her anything, but to-night, if you want her, is your chance. She has more lovers stringing here after boats than you can count upon your fingers and toes.”
Tom stood up with a great resolution.
“I’ll tell her now,” said he slowly.
He went out of the house and stood in the sunlit porch. Just behind the great hill beyond he could see the last of the sun sinking to rest. His heart beat with foolish excitement, for he feared this girl could not love him as he did her.
“Halloa, Tom,” shouted she. “Oh, I’m so glad you are home. What makes you look so grave? Oh,” and the girl did not wait for the man’s answer, “I have had such a daring time. Where do you think I’ve been, way down to Hell Gate, and almost went into the rapids.”
By this time she had placed her oars into the boat and clasped the chain firmly in its staple.
The man’s face grew white as he heard these words.