Listen; to-day fortnight you an' me 'm gwaine to be married afore the
registrar to Newton Abbot. He 'm my awn Uncle Ford, as luck has it, an'
quite o' my way o' thinkin' when I told him how 't was, an' that Jan
Grimbal was gwaine to marry you against your will. He advised me, and
I'm biding in Newton for next two weeks, so as the thing comes out right
by law. But you've got to keep it still as death."

"If I could awnly fly this instant moment with 'e!"

"You caan't. 'T would spoil all. You must stop home, an' hear your banns
put up with Grimbal, an' all the rest of it. Wish I could! Meat an'
drink 't would be, by God! But he'll get his pay all right. An' afore
the day comes, you nip off to Newton, an' I'll meet 'e, an' us'll be
married in a wink, an' you'll be back home again to Monks Barton 'fore
you knaw it."

"Is that the awnly way? Oh, Will, how terrible!"

"God knaws I've done worse 'n that. But no man's gwaine to steal the
maid of my choosin' from me while I've got brains and body to prevent
it."

"Let me look at you, lovey--just the same, just the same! 'Tis glorious
to hear your voice again. But this thin coat, so butivul in shaape, tu!
You 'm a gentleman by the look of it; but 't is summer wear, not
winter."

"Ess, 'tis cold enough; an' I've got to get back to Newton to-night. An'
never breathe that man's name no more. I'll shaw 'e wat 's a man an'
what ban't. Steal my true love, would 'e?--God forgive un, I