He had changed from a youth to a man. His seafaring life had bronzed his fair complexion; the habit of command, the discipline (though it was somewhat lax in those days), had given him a more manly deportment. Altogether the alteration in his appearance was wholly to his advantage, and it was even surprising that Agnes had recognized him.
As soon as he had disappeared, Ben Davies began loosening his little craft.
"We must be quick," he said, "or night will overtake us before we reach Broek, and there are so many adventurers about, one is not safe even on the canal." Turning quickly to Agnes, he said:
"I understand you are a great lady; I always thought you were. I earnestly beg your pardon if I have injured you, and I entreat you to plead my cause with your friends."
"Indeed I will," she answered. "Of course you were very wrong to carry me away; but you have been so good to me, and Jeanne, dear Jeanne, and my little Lisette, I love you all." She picked the child up from the deck and hugged and kissed her.
"I have been very happy with you sometimes, since I got well," she said.
"Oh, no harm shall come to you, I promise!" he answered; and she smiled again in answer that wonderful bright smile of hers, which brought a look of gladness to the two other faces.
Thank God that there are in the world some who have this gift of joy giving! They are like angels dropped down upon the earth to scatter little grains of gladness in sad places.
CHAPTER XXI
London on Fire