s hands across the narrowing space that all
was well; and her face was radiant as the boat slipped up to the side,
and balanced there with the boatman's hand on the stone edging.

"It is all well," said Chris again as he stood by her a moment later.
"He is to go free, and we are to tell him."

He dared not look at her; but he was aware that she stood very still and
rigid, and that her eyes were on his father's.

"Oh! Mistress Beatrice--"

Chris began to understand it all a little better, a few minutes later,
as the boat was once again on its way downstream. He and Nicholas had
moved to the bows of the wherry, and the girl and the old man sat alone
in the stern.

They were all very silent at first; Chris leaned on his elbow and stared
out at the sliding banks, the trees on this side and that, the great
houses with their high roofs and towers behind, and their stone steps in
front, the brilliant glare on the water, the hundreds of boats--great
barges flashing jewels from their dozen blades, spidery wherries making
this way and that; and his mind was busy weaving pictures. He saw it all
now; there had been that in Beatrice's face during the moment he had
looked at her, that was more than sympathy. In the shock of that great
joy the veils had fallen, and her soul had looked out through her black
tearful eyes.

There was little doubt now as to what would happen. It was not for their
sake alone, or for Ralph's, that she had looked like that; she had not
said one word, but he knew what was unspoken.

As they passed under London Bridge he turned a little and looked across
the boatmen's shoulder at the two as they sat there in the stern, and
what he saw confirmed him. The old man had flung an arm along the back
of the seat, and was leaning a little forward, talking in a low voice,
his face showing indeed the lines and wrinkles that had deepened more
than ever during these last weeks, but irradiated with an extraordinary
joy. And the girl was beside him, smiling with downcast eyes, turning a
quick look now and again as she sat there. Chris could see her scarlet
lips trembling, and her hands clasped on her knee, shifting a little now
and again as she listened. It was a strange wooing; the father courting
for the son, and the woman answering the son through the father; and
Chris understood what was the answer that she was giving.

Nicholas was watching it too; and presently the two in the stern looked
up suddenly; first Be