"Whose?" I cried.
"Neck Trezidder's an' the young laady called Penryn," laughed the old dame.
"How do you know?" I asked, feeling my knees tremble and my heart grow cold.
"It doan't need a white witch to know that," cried Betsey. "'Tes in everybody's mouth. Ef you stayed a month longer, they'd 'a bin married by now."
I did not stop to consider how Betsey knew of my love for Naomi Penryn. It was evident she did know as she seemed to know everything else. Besides, I was in a state of torment at the news she had told me.
"Have the banns been called in church?" I asked.
"Iss," cried Betsey.
"No," said Eli; "I went ther' laast Zunday to heer fur myzelf, but the passon ded'n zay nothin' 'bout et."
"Aw," grunted Betsey, angry that she had been discovered to have made a mistake, yet looking lovingly toward her son. "Then they'll be cried nex' Zunday."