Sarah Quintal became as suddenly pale now as she had formerly become red, and struggled to get free.
“Oh, Dan, Dan, don’t!” she cried, earnestly; “do let me go, if you love me!”
“Well, I will, if you say I may speak to Father Adams about it.”
Sarah’s answer was quite inaudible to ordinary ears, but it caused Dan to loosen his hold; and the girl, bounding away like a frightened gazelle, disappeared among the palm-groves.
“Well,” exclaimed Dan, thrusting both hands into his trousers-pockets as he walked smartly down the hill, “you are the dearest girl in all the world. There can’t be two opinions on that point.”
Dan’s world was a remarkably small one, as worlds go, but it was quite large enough to fill his heart to overflowing at that time.
In turning into another path he almost ran against Charlie Christian.
“Well?” exclaimed Charlie, with a brilliant smile. “Well?” repeated Dan, with a beaming countenance.
“All right,” said Charlie.
“Ditto,” said Dan, as he took his friend’s arm, and hastened to the abode of John Adams, the great referee in all important matters.