Part 90 (1/2)
”Well, meantime?”
”Dear father, dear mother, what can we do to pleasure the absent, but be kind to his poor la.s.s; and her own trouble afore her?”
”'Tis well!” said Eli; ”but I am older than thou.” Then he turned gravely to Margaret: ”Wilt answer me a question, my pretty mistress?”
”If I may, sir,” faltered Margaret.
”What are these marriage lines Gerard speaks of in the letter?”
”Our marriage lines, sir. His and mine. Know you not we are betrothed?”
”Before witnesses?”
”Ay, sure. My poor father and Martin Wittenhaagen.”
”This is the first I ever heard of it. How came they in his hands? They should be in yours.”
”Alas, sir, the more is my grief; but I ne'er doubted him: and he said it was a comfort to him to have them in his bosom.”
”Y'are a very foolish la.s.s.”
”Indeed I was, sir. But trouble teaches the simple.”
”'Tis a good answer. Well, foolish or no, y'are honest. I had shown ye more respect at first, but I thought y'had been his leman, and that is the truth.”
”G.o.d forbid, sir! Denys, methinks 'tis time for us to go. Give me my letter, sir!”
”Bide ye! bide ye! be not so hot, for a word! Natheless, wife, methinks her red cheek becomes her.”
”Better than it did you to give it her, my man.”
”Softly, wife, softly. I am not counted an unjust man thof I be somewhat slow.”
Here Richart broke in. ”Why, mistress, did ye shed your blood for our Gerard?”
”Not I, sir. But maybe I would.”
”Nay, nay. But he says you did. Speak sooth, now!”
”Alas! I know not what ye mean. I rede ye believe not all that my poor lad says of me. Love makes him blind.”
”Traitress!” cried Denys. ”Let not her throw dust in thine eyes, Master Richart. Old Martin tells me--ye need not make signals to me, she-comrade; I am as blind as love. Martin tells me she cut her arm, and let her blood flow, and smeared her heels when Gerard was hunted by the bloodhounds, to turn the scent from her lad.”
”Well, and if I did, 'twas my own, and spilled for the good of my own,”
said Margaret, defiantly. But, Catherine suddenly clasping her, she began to cry at having found a bosom to cry on, of one who would have also shed her blood for Gerard in danger.
Eli rose from his chair. ”Wife,” said he, solemnly, ”you will set another chair at our table for every meal: also another plate and knife.