“There are three things that would make it so,” said he, looking narrowly at me.
“And what are they, cousin?” I enquired.
“Why,” said he, “first, if he’s still alive; second, if there’s money in the house to secure his release; and third, if you will reward me for my efforts on his behalf.”
“I reward you?” said I, affecting a great surprise. “How can I reward you, cousin?”
“By bestowing yourself upon me without delay, fair cousin!” he cried, throwing himself at my feet and seizing my hand.
“Why,” said I, affecting a pretty confusion, “I thought that I had already given you some promise of the sort—but ‘without delay’ sounds so formidable—will not a year hence suit you, cousin?” I said.
“A year hence? ’Tis an age—a century!” he exclaimed, possessing himself of both my hands. “It must be at once—I cannot endure my passion to remain unsatisfied, fair coz; indeed, I love thee so much.”
“I could do much for a man that gratified my whim,” said I.
“And by heaven,” said he, “I will gratify it if I’m in time! Promise me, cousin, that you’ll marry me to-night, and I’ll save Dick Coope—that is,” he said, with a sudden caution, “if he’s yet alive, and if you can find me money for the enterprise.”
“But to-night?” said I, much confused. “Oh, cousin—why, was ever aught so sudden? Let us say a month hence, or a fortnight.”