here; the rain is coming on afresh, and these trees, thick
as they are, form scant protection. It is outrageous that thou should
wander in this storm, while thy brutal father lies in shelter. Nay, do
not fear harm for either thee or me; and as for him, he shall not
suffer if thou but wish it so." And, drawing the girl's hand through
his arm, he took her reluctantly with him, and without direction from
her soon stood before the blacksmith's house.

"You see," he said, triumphantly, "I knew the place, and yet I have not
seen the town for years."

Trenchon rapped soundly on the oaken door with his heavy stick, and the
blows re-echoed through the silent house. The girl shrank timidly
behind him, and would have fled, but that he held her firmly by the
wrist.

"Nay, nay," he said: "believe me there is naught to fear. I will see
that thou art not ill-used."

As he spoke the window above was thrown up, and a string of fearful
oaths greeted the two, whereat the girl once more tried to release her
imprisoned wrist, but Trenchon held it lightly, though with a grip like
steel.

The stout old man thrust his head through the open window.

"God's blight on thee!" he cried, "thou pair of fools who wish to wed
so much that ye venture out in such a night as this. Well, have your
way, and let me have my rest. In the name of the law of Scotland I
pronounce ye man and wife. There, that will bind two fools together as
strongly as if the Archbishop spoke the words. Place thou the money on
the steps. I warrant none will venture to touch it when it belongs to
me." And with that he closed the window.

"Is he raving mad or drunk?" cried Trenchon.

The girl gave a wailing cry. "Alas! alas!" she said; "he is neither. He
is so used to marrying folk who come from England across the Border
that he thinks not it his daughter who came with thee, but two who
wished to wed. They come at all hours of the night and day, and he has
married us. I am thy wife."

The astonished man dropped her wrist, and she put her hands before her
eyes and wept.

"Married!" cried Trenchon. "We two married!"

He looked with interest at the girl, but in the darkness could see
nothing of her. The unheeded rain pelted on them both.

"Hast thou"--he hesitated--"hast thou some other lover, since you
weep?"

The girl shook her head. "No one," she said, "comes near us. They fear
my father."

"Then, if this be true, why dost thou weep? I am not considered so bad
a