“I must face some stern realities to-night. But you love me. That’s the only thing of any importance. What do jails matter? They can only imprison the body—my soul will follow you, hover about you, laugh and cry with you day and night, waking or dreaming.”
“They won’t put you in jail to-night, dear?” she asked, piteously.
“Yes.”
“Then you shall not give yourself up to them! You’ll let me have my own way now that you know that I love you, won’t you, John dear? There! I’ve called your name for the first time—haven’t I?—I love your name!—You’re not going to give up to them—are you?”
“I see no other way, dearest.”
“You told your men to fly. Our horses are fresh. We can put miles between us and these troops before day. I’ll go with you, just as I am in this riding habit—no matter—I’ll get a dress somewhere when you’re out of danger.”
He slipped his arm about her, bent his tall form, and stopped her with a kiss.
“How sweet to hear you talk this beautiful nonsense!”
“I mean it,” she hurried on earnestly. “We must leave to-night, I don’t know what they may do to you. Something terrible—maybe—I can’t think of it! Something may happen to separate us. I want to feel your hand clasping mine like this forever!”
He answered by crushing the little hand in his.