“We are like to be neighbours again,” he said, “and I give you my word I shall strive to be a more neighbourly one than in the past.”
“Then, sirs,” said Sir Oliver, looking from Sir John to Lord Henry, “I am to understand that I am no longer a prisoner.”
“You need not hesitate to return with us to England, Sir Oliver,” replied his lordship. “The Queen shall hear your story, and we have Jasper Leigh to confirm it if need be, and I will go warranty for your complete reinstatement. Count me your friend, Sir Oliver, I beg.” And he, too, held out his hand. Then turning to the others: “Come, sirs,” he said, “we have duties elsewhere, I think.”
They tramped away, leaving Oliver and Rosamund alone. The twain looked long each at the other. There was so much to say, so much to ask, so much to explain, that neither knew with what words to begin. Then Rosamund suddenly came up to him, holding out her hands. “Oh, my dear!” she said, and that, after all, summed up a deal.
One or two over-inquisitive seamen, lounging on the forecastle and peeping through the shrouds, were disgusted to see the lady of Godolphin Court in the arms of a beturbaned bare-legged follower of Mahound.