“He shall be brought here,” he answered.
“And when will you return with him?” I said.
“Why,” said he, musingly, “I have a plan, and if it goes as I think it will, it will be within an hour after midnight.”
“Then I will expect you, cousin,” said I. I paused a moment, and then looked at him in a shy fashion. “And you will bring a clergyman with you?” I said, striving, and I hope with some success, to counterfeit a becoming modesty.
“Assuredly I will!” he cried.
“Then go, dear Anthony,” I said. “But stay, there are two other matters—I do not like the notion,” I said, looking about me with an air of distaste, “of spending my wedding night in this house—could not we ride to your own house at Foxclough immediately after the ceremony? I should find that much to be preferred, cousin.”
“Why,” said he, “’tis a ten mile ride—and the old place is but poorly furnished—but since you wish it, cousin, I will despatch one of my men with strict orders to have it prepared for our reception during the night.”
“And your other man?” said I, “will you leave him here to protect me?—old Jasper is but a poor guard, and there is no one but Barbara and myself in the house.”
“Agreed,” said he. “And now I must hasten—egad, the time will go but slow till I return with the parson, fair coz!”
“Hasten!” said I, “you must fulfil your bargain if you would gain your prize. Nay,” I said, seeing that he was minded to embrace me, “lose no time, cousin—I shall be impatient for your return,” and I gave him a smile as he went out of the door that was intended to encourage him. I watched him across the kitchen and saw that he spoke to the two men; then he rode out of the courtyard and I returned to the parlour, calling Barbara to attend me there. And we had no sooner entered and closed the door than I swooned, the excitement of the scene I had just gone through proving too much for me to bear any longer.