CHAPTER IX
WE GO UPON OUR WEDDING TOUR
I am sure it is expected of me to improve this occasion with a few sage remarks, for could anything have been more ominous to the prosperity of our married life? But I hope I have too much chivalry in me to say to what extent this evil presage has been borne out since, and I dare Mrs. Cynthia to do so. Revenons à nos moutons, a phrase I think that always looks better in French. We got through all these important matters at last, even to the forging of the honoured names of Jane Jones and John Smith, or Jane Smith and John Jones, I forget precisely which, in the parish register. Then having vailed the clerk with the parson's two-shilling-bit, and having thanked and bid farewell to our kind benefactors, we moved out of the church amid the acclamation of the whole female and juvenile population of the village, and got us with some speed upon our wedding-tour.
Now we had made about half-a-mile along the highway at a round pace, when Cynthia to her great concern discovered that she had carried away upon her finger the ring that Mrs. Blodgett had borrowed from a neighbour.
"Oh, this will never do," says she. "We can never rob such kind honest people."
"I suppose we cannot," says I, "but the value of that ring will come in wonderfully apt this evening when we desire a lodging for our weariness."
"Oh, Jack, how can you!" says she. "We must take it back at once."
And willy-nilly with never another word my pretty one, with a fine indignant colour in her face, turned about and set her nose straight back to the parson's door. And taking a material view of the matter, honesty was just as good a policy in this case as any other, for when we had come to the parson and Cynthia had got her mission off her lips and the ring off her finger, all in due time, the kind man was so pleased by our worthy behaviour, that says he to Mrs. Blodgett: "There, there, what did I say? I knew you judged them too harshly," and straightway invited us to an excellent repast of potherbs and boiled mutton, that even then was smoking on the table.
It was about two o'clock in the afternoon when we set out again on our travels. We took the highway, and followed it mile upon mile, through pretty hamlets, past inviting inns, lush green meadows, and here and there a shady little copse. Up hill and down dale we went, and always in something of a joyful spirit, for no two people could be more happy in their freedom, or more careless of what might befall. The moment was enough for us. We were sound in limb and spirit, stout of heart, too, I ween, and my little wife had the sum of twelvepence half penny in her pocket. An avenging law was doubtless pursuing me, and a stern parent was most probably pursuing her, but we were so taken up with one another that we could think only of our present happiness. Avaunt dull care, it was our wedding journey.
Who could help being happy in the soft airs of the spring afternoon? They were so generous, and the sun was so mild and pleasant, that we discarded our cloaks, and I bore them both over my arm. But we were not allowed to remain in this paradise very long without being rudely reminded of its insecurity. After awhile, growing hot with our exertions and a little weary also, we began to desire a cool shady place in which to rest. A hill more than usually steep lay before us, and having toiled to the top, at considerably less of a pace than the one at which we had started, found there the spot we were in need of. Seating ourselves under a tree covered with snowy blossom we proceeded to take our earned repose. And we had been in this occupation perhaps five minutes or so, when our attention was directed to the sound of wheels at the foot of the hill we had just overcome. A pair-horse chaise was coming up at a round pace. It was occupied by two persons, and was so striking in colour and design that it was in the distance likely to be recognized sooner than the people in it. This proved to be the case. No sooner had it come into view than Cynthia clutched at my arm in a quick, frightened manner.