It was a fine bright night, and for all her lowness of spiritsDolly kept looking up at the stars in a manner so bewitching (andSHE knew it!) that Joe was clean out of his senses, and plainlyshowed that if ever a man were--not to say over head and ears, butover the Monument and the top of Saint Paul"s in love, that man washimself. The road was a very good one; not at all a jolting road,or an uneven one; and yet Dolly held the side of the chaise withone little hand, all the way. If there had been an executionerbehind him with an uplifted axe ready to chop off his head if hetouched that hand, Joe couldn"t have helped doing it. From puttinghis own hand upon it as if by chance, and taking it away againafter a minute or so, he got to riding along without taking it offat all; as if he, the escort, were bound to do that as an importantpart of his duty, and had come out for the purpose. The mostcurious circumstance about this little incident was, that Dollydidn"t seem to know of it. She looked so innocent and unconsciouswhen she turned her eyes on Joe, that it was quite provoking.
She talked though; talked about her fright, and about Joe"s comingup to rescue her, and about her gratitude, and about her fear thatshe might not have thanked him enough, and about their always beingfriends from that time forth--and about all that sort of thing.
And when Joe said, not friends he hoped, Dolly was quite surprised,and said not enemies she hoped; and when Joe said, couldn"t they besomething much better than either, Dolly all of a sudden found outa star which was brighter than all the other stars, and begged tocall his attention to the same, and was ten thousand times moreinnocent and unconscious than ever.
In this manner they travelled along, talking very little above awhisper, and wishing the road could be stretched out to some dozentimes its natural length--at least that was Joe"s desire--when, asthey were getting clear of the forest and emerging on the morefrequented road, they heard behind them the sound of a horse"s feetat a round trot, which growing rapidly louder as it drew nearer,elicited a scream from Mrs Varden, and the cry "a friend!" from therider, who now came panting up, and checked his horse beside them.
"This man again!" cried Dolly, shuddering.
"Hugh!" said Joe. "What errand are you upon?"
"I come to ride back with you," he answered, glancing covertly atthe locksmith"s daughter. "HE sent me.
"My father!" said poor Joe; adding under his breath, with a veryunfilial apostrophe, "Will he never think me man enough to takecare of myself!"
"Aye!" returned Hugh to the first part of the inquiry. "The roadsare not safe just now, he says, and you"d better have a companion."
"Ride on then," said Joe. "I"m not going to turn yet."
Hugh complied, and they went on again. It was his whim or humourto ride immediately before the chaise, and from this position heconstantly turned his head, and looked back. Dolly felt that helooked at her, but she averted her eyes and feared to raise themonce, so great was the dread with which he had inspired her.
This interruption, and the consequent wakefulness of Mrs Varden,who had been nodding in her sleep up to this point, except for aminute or two at a time, when she roused herself to scold thelocksmith for audaciously taking hold of her to prevent her noddingherself out of the chaise, put a restraint upon the whisperedconversation, and made it difficult of resumption. Indeed, beforethey had gone another mile, Gabriel stopped at his wife"s desire,and that good lady protested she would not hear of Joe"s going astep further on any account whatever. It was in vain for Joe toprotest on the other hand that he was by no means tired, and wouldturn back presently, and would see them safely past such a point,and so forth. Mrs Varden was obdurate, and being so was not to beovercome by mortal agency.
"Good night--if I must say it," said Joe, sorrowfully.
"Good night," said Dolly. She would have added, "Take care of thatman, and pray don"t trust him," but he had turned his horse"s head,and was standing close to them. She had therefore nothing for itbut to suffer Joe to give her hand a gentle squeeze, and when thechaise had gone on for some distance, to look back and wave it, ashe still lingered on the spot where they had parted, with the talldark figure of Hugh beside him.
What she thought about, going home; and whether the coach-makerheld as favourable a place in her meditations as he had occupied inthe morning, is unknown. They reached home at last--at last, forit was a long way, made none the shorter by Mrs Varden"s grumbling.
Miggs hearing the sound of wheels was at the door immediately.
"Here they are, Simmun! Here they are!" cried Miggs, clapping herhands, and issuing forth to help her mistress to alight. "Bring achair, Simmun. Now, an"t you the better for it, mim? Don"t youfeel more yourself than you would have done if you"d have stoppedat home? Oh, gracious! how cold you are! Goodness me, sir, she"sa perfect heap of ice."
"I can"t help it, my good girl. You had better take her in to thefire," said the locksmith.
"Master sounds unfeeling, mim," said Miggs, in a tone ofcommiseration, "but such is not his intentions, I"m sure. Afterwhat he has seen of you this day, I never will believe but that hehas a deal more affection in his heart than to speak unkind. Comein and sit yourself down by the fire; there"s a good dear--do."
Mrs Varden complied. The locksmith followed with his hands in hispockets, and Mr Tappertit trundled off with the chaise to aneighbouring stable.
"Martha, my dear," said the locksmith, when they reached theparlour, "if you"ll look to Dolly yourself or let somebody else doit, perhaps it will be only kind and reasonable. She has beenfrightened, you know, and is not at all well to-night."
In fact, Dolly had thrown herself upon the sofa, quite regardlessof all the little finery of which she had been so proud in themorning, and with her face buried in her hands was crying verymuch.