g his hand to
show my gratitude. I warrant I'll make him wince, such a grip will I
give him. And I'll talk of nothing else but seas and winds, and the
manner of ship I'll have for his money."

The following morning before Moll was stirring, Don Sanchez and Dawson
set forth on their journey, and I going with them beyond the park gates
to the bend of the road, we took leave of each other with a great show
of cheerfulness on both sides. But Lord! my heart lay in my breast like
any lump of lead, and when Jack turned his back on me, the tears sprang
up in my eyes as though indeed this was my brother and I was never to
see him more. And long after he was out of sight I sat on the bank by
the roadside, sick with pain to think of his sorrow in going forth like
this, without one last loving word of parting from his dear Moll, to
find no home in London, no friend to cheer him, and he the most
companionable man in the world.

CHAPTER XVIII.

_Of our getting a painter into the Court, with whom our Moll falls
straightway in love._

Being somewhat of a coward, I essayed to put Moll off with a story of
her father having gone a-frolicking with Don Sanchez, leaving it to the
Don to break the truth to her on his return. And a sorry, bungling
business I made of it, to be sure. For, looking me straight in the eyes,
whenever I dared lift them, she did seem to perceive that I was lying,
from the very first, which so disconcerted me, though she interrupted me
by never a word, that I could scarce stammer to the end of my tale.
Then, without asking a single question, or once breaking her painful
silence, she laid her face in her hands, her shoulders shook, and the
tears ran out between her fingers, and fell upon her lap.

"I know, I know," says she, putting me away, when I attempted to speak.
"He has gone away for my sake, and will come back no more; and 'tis all
my fault, that I could not play my part better."

Then, what words of comfort I could find, I offered her; but she would
not be consoled, and shut herself up in her room all that morning.
Nevertheless, she ate more heartily than I at dinner, and fresh visitors
coming in the afternoon, she entertained them as though no grief lay at
her heart. Indeed, she recovered of this cruel blow much easier than I
looked for; and but that she would at times sit pensive, with
melancholy, wistful eyes, and rise from her seat with a troubled sigh,
one would have said, at the end of t