“The gallers!” said Mr. Potter, reaching for his grog.
“Consequently, George, sic’ influence as I possess—whilk is sma’—and a’ my money—whilk is no’ sae muckle as I could wish—I will joyfully adventure to get ye safe awa’! Our first conseederation must be tae get ye ower tae France.”
“Aye, but wherefore France, sir?”
“Ye’ll be safe there, man.”
“Mebbe, sir, but I can’t speak the lingo, d’ye see, an’ I dunno as I like furrineers; ’sides, sir, I’ve made my plans to bide nice an’ quiet in Alfriston——”
“But, ye muckle fule,” cried Sir Hector, “ye ken the man Sayle means tae hunt ye doon?”
“Aye, I do, sir; this be why I’ll bide along in Alfriston; poor Potter’ll be safest theer. Lord bless ’ee, there bean’t a Sussex man, woman nor child as would give Potter away! An’ there’s plenty o’ hiding-places I knaws on wheer nobody will never find poor Potter nowhen an’ nohow——” Here Mr. Potter paused to drink as my lady reappeared; she, taking her leave forthwith, Sir John did the same, and together they stepped forth into the sunshine.
CHAPTER XXXII
TELLETH HOW SIR JOHN DERING WENT A-WOOING
Upon the Down a soft wind met them, a gentle breath sweet with wild thyme and fresh with ocean, a wind that touched them like a caress; insomuch that my lady removed hat and cap the better to feel it, and, sinking upon the smooth, turfy bank beside the path, sat to behold the beauties of teeming earth and radiant heaven, yet very conscious of him who stood beside her, wherefore she presently bade him be seated. Thus, side by side, they remained awhile, and never a word between them.