How I threw scorn on this scorn of love, how I protested and vowed my love could not die, may be imagined by a lover, and no other would care to read such matter.
My father replied, with an indulgent smile, "Yes, yes, my son, I know. But you must see that marriage with the Dutch girl is out of the question. You have nothing to marry on. If you refuse Mistress Ryther, you are a landless, penniless man. Even if it were otherwise, how can you wed the daughter of a fellow who broke prison and fled his country, sooner than take his trial for conspiracy to murder his Prince? A pretty family connection for the master of Temple Belwood! You might as well propose to marry a gipsy; better indeed, for your own people would not burn the house over your head for that, as they certainly would, if you took a wife from the camp of the Dutch invaders. Besides, the girl is mated already—or as good as mated—with a rascal who was drummed out of King Christian's army for cheating at dice. You see I have taken some pains to inform myself about your Fancy and her associates."
"And who is your informant, may I ask?"
"A Frenchman, Chavatte by name, a gentleman and a man of affairs, who came over with Vermuijden, putting much money into the business. I met with him at Cambridge, where he was seeking Vermuijden, as I was seeking the Lord's Anointed. He has withdrawn from the company for good reasons. For one thing, he is convinced that the plan for the drainage is fatally defective, and Vermuijden will not hear of alteration. Then he has discovered that the King has sold what never belonged to him, and has no mind to be a receiver of stolen goods, nor does he expect that the rightful owners will ever submit to the robbery. And he has the strongest distaste to Vermuijden's lieutenant and deputy. He is trying to recover some of his money, and will shortly go home. You will be inclined to consider him a man of sense, for he admires Mistress Goel's beauty, and applauds her devotion to her father, whom he regards as lunatic, most especially because he desires to give her in marriage to this Vliet. 'But he finds favour with the incomprehensible sex,' Chavatte added, with his French shrug of the shoulders."
I did not speak for some time. A horrible doubt had crept into my mind. Suppose Anna's filial piety should overcome her repugnance to Sebastian Vliet. Suppose the fellow had reformed his conduct. Suppose he succeeded in gaining her consent. If Anna were lost to me, what mattered it to me whether I married Mistress Ryther, or a gipsy, or a blackamoor? If I could redeem the dear old place, and make my father happy, was it not my duty to do so? Always supposing that Anna could not, or would not be my wife. It was the first time I had given way to despondency, and even now I do not understand what it was that plunged me into gloom.
One thing only was clear to me, that I must see Anna without delay, and learn whether I was to be blessed or miserable for the whole of my life. I could not keep before myself that I had nothing to offer for her acceptance, or that her father might treat the offer with ridicule. I could think of nothing but the necessity to see Anna, and hear the word which should decide my fate. My father said nothing to interrupt my meditations. Since he had been away from home, he had formed the habit of smoking, and he now lighted his pipe and puffed silently. When he had finished his pipe and knocked out the ashes, he said—
"I will not press you for an answer to-night; but it is to be remembered that handsome young women, who have heaps of money, are not as plentiful as blackberries in September."
"I will give you an answer to-morrow evening," I replied; but did not say anything of my intention to go to Sandtoft in the morning, for I felt certain my father would oppose it strongly. Indeed, what with the lightness of my head and the heaviness of my heart, it took me some time to get upstairs and to bed. Luke, who was accustomed to help me, was away, and it occurred to me that if I missed him to-night, I should miss him much more to-morrow.