Outside the Battery Point the girl hauled down the sails and got out the
sweeps; and together they pulled up under the still sleeping town to the
minister's quay-door. He was clumsy at this work, but she instructed
him in whispers, and they managed to reach the ladder as the clocks were
striking five. The tide was far down by this time, and she held the
boat close to the ladder while he prepared to climb. With his foot on
the first round, he turned. She was white as a ghost, and trembling
from top to toe.
"Nance--did you say your name was Nance?"
She nodded.
"What's the matter?"
"I'll--I'll let you off, if you want to be let off."
"I'm not sure that I do," he said, and stealing softly up the ladder,
stood at the top and watched her boat as she steered it back to Ruan.
Three months after, they were married, to the indignant amazement of the
minister's congregation. It almost cost him his pulpit, but he held on
and triumphed. There is no reason to believe that he ever repented of
his choice, or rather of Nance's. To be sure, she had kidnapped him by
a lie; but perhaps she wiped it out by fifty years of honest affection.
On that point, however, I, who tell the tale, will not dogmatise.
WHICH?
The scene was a street in the West End of London, a little south of
Eaton Square: the hour just twenty-five minutes short of midnight.
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