A flush came up into Will's bronzed cheeks.
"None so fast, sweetheart," he said. "What would you say to us going to be married and having never a ring to put on that finger o' yourn? I han't bought the ring yet—the wedding-ring, darling; but I ha' got money to buy it—ten pound; it does seem a sight of riches. Let's go down to Higgins' and change the notes, Bet. We can get the ring there." Bet did not object—she turned at once in the right direction, walking so fast that Will began to chaff her.
"You take my breath away," he said. "You forget that I've got sea-legs, and ain't a match for the land folks when they go at that pace."
"Oh, Will—if you could be in earnest!" said poor Bet. "I'm hurrying 'cause it's life or death to me. It gets late, and parson may be out—oh! a hundred things may happen—oh, if my heart didn't beat so hard!"
"Well, here we are, dear," said Will, and the two turned into the small close marine store presided over by Higgins.
That worthy came forward himself to meet the handsome couple who now stood at the other side of his grimy counter.
"Evenin'," he said. "What may I serve you with? Why, if it ain't Scarlett! I didn't know you at first, lad, and that's a fact. Evening young woman! Courting, eh?" he whispered in an aside to Scarlett.
"Oh, that's about done," said Will. "It's marrying we're after—could you fit this here young woman with a ring?" he added, and he took Bet's hand in his.
A tray of wedding rings was placed on the counter—they were all second-hand, and some of them much the worse for wear.
Will made his selection, choosing a fairly solid gold band. He slipped the ring into his pocket, smiled into Bet's anxious eyes, and taking out his bank-notes, spread them on the counter.