"England! Aye, to be sure!" says I, mighty doleful, but, conscious of her regard, strove to look happy yet made such a botch of it that, getting to her knees, she takes my hang-dog face betwixt her two hands.
"O but you are glad?" she questions, a little breathlessly, "Glad to come with me to England—to leave this wilderness?"
"Aye!" I nodded, well-nigh choking on the word.
"Dear Martin, look at me!" she commanded, "Now speak me plain. Whence is your grief?"
"O, my lady," quoth I, "'tis the knowledge of my unworthiness, my unloveliness, my rude and graceless ways; England is no place for like of me. I am well enough here in the wild—to work for you, fight for you an' need be, but how may I compare with your fine gallants and courtly gentlemen?"
Now at this she clasps me all sudden in her arms and setting soft cheek to mine falls a-chiding me, yet kissing me full oft, calling me "silly," "dear," "foolish," and "beloved."
"How shall you compare?" cries she, "Thus and thus, dear Martin—so infinitely above and beyond all other men that unless you wed me needs must I die a maid!"
Thus did she comfort me, soothing my fears, and thus the dawn found us.
"O 'tis day!" she sighed, "'Tis day already!" And now 'twas her voice was doleful whiles her eyes gazed regretful round about the white sands of Deliverance and the tree-clad highlands beyond. "O indeed I do love this dear island of ours, Martin!"
Sudden upon the stilly air was the beat of oars, and we beheld a boat rowed by a couple of mariners and in the stern-sheets Sir Rupert Dering and the three gentlemen, his companions. Hereupon my lady would have me go with her to meet them then and there, but I shook my head.