“What say you, Alison?” says I.
But for answer she put her hand in mine. “Anywhere with you, Dick,” says she.
“The Low Countries be it, then,” says I. I looked round me. “Shall we ever see the old house again?” I thought to myself, cursing the fate that drove me and my bride out of its shelter like beggars. But that was no time for such thoughts. “Come,” I says. “Let’s be stirring—what is that you propose, Merciful Wiggleskirk?”
“Why,” says he, “what I propose, master, is simple enough—that we presently mount our horses and set out for Hull, there to find a ship. And since we have a fifty mile ride before us,” he says——
“Let’s waste no time in starting,” says I. “Come, see to the horses while I arrange for the safe custody of our prisoners.”
“Pity that we cannot knock them on the head for vermin,” says Merciful, and bustled out of the room on my errand. Master Drumbleforth followed him to find his own beast. I turned and took Alison into my arms.
“Sweetheart,” says I, “this is but a poor wedding-night for you. I fear we have many troubles and difficulties ahead out of which I would fain keep you.”
“Nay,” says she, laying her hand on my mouth, “no talk of that sort, Dick. We have faced more than one trouble together—I’ve no fear of aught that may come,” says she, smiling at me. “Oh, my dear, I love you so that troubles seem naught when I share them with you.”
“Why, then,” says I, leading her towards the door, “all’s well indeed.” I paused and held her at arm’s length, looking long and steadily into her eyes. “My wife!” I says, and caught her to my heart, only to release her again and look at her smiling face in sheer wonder. For to tell truth, my head was half turned with the strange doings of that day, and I could scarce comprehend that Alison was really and truly my own.