It was for the moment an inexpressible relief to Dolly, to recognise in the person who forced himself into the path so abruptly, and now stood directly in her way, Hugh of the Maypole, whose name she uttered in a tone of delighted surprise that came from her heart.
'Was it you?' she said, 'how glad I am to see you! and how could you terrify me so!'
In answer to which, he said nothing at all, but stood quite still, looking at her.
'Did you come to meet me?' asked Dolly.
Hugh nodded, and muttered something to the effect that he had been waiting for her, and had expected her sooner.
'I thought it likely they would send,' said Dolly, greatly reassured by this.
'Nobody sent me,' was his sullen answer. 'I came of my own accord.'
The rough bearing of this fellow, and his wild, uncouth appearance, had often filled the girl with a vague apprehension even when other people were by, and had occasioned her to shrink from him involuntarily. The having him for an unbidden companion in so solitary a place, with the darkness fast gathering about them, renewed and even increased the alarm she had felt at first.
If his manner had been merely dogged and passively fierce, as usual, she would have had no greater dislike to his company than she always felt--perhaps, indeed, would have been rather glad to have had him at hand. But there was something of coarse bold admiration in his look, which terrified her very much. She glanced timidly towards him, uncertain whether to go forward or retreat, and he stood gazing at her like a handsome satyr; and so they remained for some short time without stirring or breaking silence.
At length Dolly took courage, shot past him, and hurried on.
'Why do you spend so much breath in avoiding me?' said Hugh, accommodating his pace to hers, and keeping close at her side.
'I wish to get back as quickly as I can, and you walk too near me, answered Dolly.'
'Too near!' said Hugh, stooping over her so that she could feel his breath upon her forehead. 'Why too near? You're always proud to ME, mistress.'
'I am proud to no one. You mistake me,' answered Dolly. 'Fall back, if you please, or go on.'
'Nay, mistress,' he rejoined, endeavouring to draw her arm through his, 'I'll walk with you.'
She released herself and clenching her little hand, struck him with right good will. At this, Maypole Hugh burst into a roar of laughter, and passing his arm about her waist, held her in his strong grasp as easily as if she had been a bird.
'Ha ha ha! Well done, mistress! Strike again. You shall beat my face, and tear my hair, and pluck my beard up by the roots, and welcome, for the sake of your bright eyes. Strike again, mistress.
Do. Ha ha ha! I like it.'
'Let me go,' she cried, endeavouring with both her hands to push him off. 'Let me go this moment.'
'You had as good be kinder to me, Sweetlips,' said Hugh. 'You had, indeed. Come. Tell me now. Why are you always so proud? I
don't quarrel with you for it. I love you when you're proud. Ha ha ha! You can't hide your beauty from a poor fellow; that's a comfort!'
She gave him no answer, but as he had not yet checked her progress, continued to press forward as rapidly as she could. At length, between the hurry she had made, her terror, and the tightness of his embrace, her strength failed her, and she could go no further.
'Hugh,' cried the panting girl, 'good Hugh; if you will leave me I
will give you anything--everything I have--and never tell one word of this to any living creature.'
'You had best not,' he answered. 'Harkye, little dove, you had best not. All about here know me, and what I dare do if I have a mind. If ever you are going to tell, stop when the words are on your lips, and think of the mischief you'll bring, if you do, upon some innocent heads that you wouldn't wish to hurt a hair of.
Bring trouble on me, and I'll bring trouble and something more on them in return. I care no more for them than for so many dogs; not so much--why should I? I'd sooner kill a man than a dog any day.
I've never been sorry for a man's death in all my life, and I have for a dog's.'
There was something so thoroughly savage in the manner of these expressions, and the looks and gestures by which they were accompanied, that her great fear of him gave her new strength, and enabled her by a sudden effort to extricate herself and run fleetly from him. But Hugh was as nimble, strong, and swift of foot, as any man in broad England, and it was but a fruitless expenditure of energy, for he had her in his encircling arms again before she had gone a hundred yards.
'Softly, darling--gently--would you fly from rough Hugh, that loves you as well as any drawing-room gallant?'
'I would,' she answered, struggling to free herself again. 'I
will. Help!'
'A fine for crying out,' said Hugh. 'Ha ha ha! A fine, pretty one, from your lips. I pay myself! Ha ha ha!'
'Help! help! help!' As she shrieked with the utmost violence she could exert, a shout was heard in answer, and another, and another.
'Thank Heaven!' cried the girl in an ecstasy. 'Joe, dear Joe, this way. Help!'
Her assailant paused, and stood irresolute for a moment, but the shouts drawing nearer and coming quick upon them, forced him to a speedy decision. He released her, whispered with a menacing look, 'Tell HIM: and see what follows!' and leaping the hedge, was gone in an instant. Dolly darted off, and fairly ran into Joe Willet's open arms.
'What is the matter? are you hurt? what was it? who was it? where is he? what was he like?' with a great many encouraging expressions and assurances of safety, were the first words Joe poured forth.
But poor little Dolly was so breathless and terrified that for some time she was quite unable to answer him, and hung upon his shoulder, sobbing and crying as if her heart would break.