"I hope so," he answered.

"Why, Roger, I'm married--of a truth am I!" she cried.

"Shame upon 'ee, if true! If not true, worse. Master Stocker was an
honest man, and ye should have respected his memory longer. Where is
thy husband?"

"He comes often. I thought it was he now. Our marriage has to be kept
secret for a while; it was done privily for certain reasons, but we
were married at church like honest folk--afore God we were, Roger--six
months after poor Stocker's death."

"'Twas too soon," said Roger.

"I was living in a house alone; I had nowhere to go to. You were far
over sea in the New Found Land, and John took me and brought me
here."

"How often doth he come?" says Roger again.

"Once or twice weekly," says she.

"I wish th' 'dst waited till I returned, dear Edy," he said. "It mid
be you are a wife--I hope so. But, if so, why this mystery? Why this
mean and cramped lodging in this lonely copse-circled town? Of what
standing is your husband, and of where?"

"He is of gentle breeding; his name is John. I am not free to tell his
family name. He is said to be of London, for safety' sake; but he
really lives in the county next adjoining this."

"Where in the next county?"

"I do not know. He has preferred not to tell me, that I may not have
the secret forced from me, to his and my hurt, by bringing the
marriage to the ears of his kinsfolk and friends."

Her brother's face flushed. "Our people have been honest townsmen,
well-reputed for long; why should you readily take such humbling from
a sojourner of whom th' 'st know nothing?"

They remained in constrained converse till her quick ear caught a
sound, for which she might have been waiting--a horse's footfall. "It
is John!" said she. "This is his night--Saturday."

"Don't be frightened lest he should find me here," said Roger. "I am
on the point of leaving. I wish not to be a third party. Say nothing
at all about my visit, if it will incommode you so to do. I will see
thee before I go afloat again."

Speaking thus he left the room, and descending the staircase let
himself out by the front door, thinking he might obtain a glimpse of
the approaching horseman. But that traveller had in the meantime gone
stealthily round to the back of the homestead, and peering along the
pinion-end of the house Roger discerned him unbridling and haltering
his horse with his own hands in the shed there.

Roger retired to the neighboring inn called the Black Lamb,