Peregrine's Progress Part 103

"Because of--what?" I persisted.

"Just--because!" she answered in the old tantalising way. And so we sat a little while looking into each other's eyes.

"By Goles!" exclaimed the Tinker so suddenly that we both started, having clean forgotten him for a while. "'Tis good to be young, but 'tis better--aye, much better, to be in love, that it is! And--you may be mighty fine folk up to London, but you'll always be just children to me--my children o' the woods!"

"And so, Jerry, we'll stay with you until we are married if you'll have us?"

"Have you?" he repeated, a little huskily. "Have you? Why, Lord love ye--I feel that proud, an' s' happy as I don't know what--only--G.o.d bless ye both--Amen!" So saying, he arose rather abruptly and hastened off to harness Diogenes.

"Diana," said I, drawing her to me, "Diana, what do you mean by 'because'?" And standing submissive in the circle of my arms she answered:

"Because you love me so truly, Peregrine, doubt cannot make you love me less. But because of your doubt I have grieved, and because I grieved I ran away, and because I ran away you came to find me, and because of this I am happy. But because I am--a little proud also, I will not wear your love-token until you know how unjust are your doubts, and because I am a woman you shall not know this until I choose. But because I love you in spite of your doubts as you love me because you are so n.o.bly generous, I am yours for ever and ever. So here's the answer--here's the meaning of 'because' and now--won't you kiss me, Peregrine?"

Thus stood we awhile amid the whispering leaves, and by the touch of her mouth doubt and heaviness were lifted from me. Then hand in hand she brought me where we might behold the barn, no longer a place of evil, gloomy and sinister, but transformed by the kindly sun into a place of beauty, dignified by age.

"Good-bye, old barn!" she whispered. "Look, Peregrine, it is so very, very old, and cannot last much longer--and I love it because it was there my man fought for me; it was there he showed me how truly generous, how wonderful is his love for me--O Peregrine, my gorgio gentleman, what a man you are! Good-bye, old barn!" she whispered.

"Good-bye!"

And when I had led forth my post horse and tethered him behind the four-wheeled cart, we clambered in all three, Diana sitting close beside me so that the kindly wind ever and anon would blow a tress of her fragrant hair across my lips to be kissed.

And so the dead went back to his grave and my demons fled awhile.

"Perry," said the Tinker as, turning from the highway, Diogenes ambled down a narrow lane, "you've forgot to ask about this here watch o'

mine."

"Well, how is it, Jerry?"

"Never was such a watch! Look at it! Reg'lar as the sun! Which riles Jessamy. Y' see, his ain't to be depended on nowadays, owing to a boot--"

"A boot, Jerry?" laughed Diana.

"At Maidstone Fair, Ann! Jessamy was preachin' Brotherly Love when a large cove in a white 'at up an' kicked him in the watch, which is apt to be a little unsettlin' to any timepiece. Anyhow, Jessamy's has never gone right since."

"His watch again!" cried I. "Last time the trouble was a brick, I remember."

"But Jerry, what happened to the 'cove' in the white hat?" enquired Diana.

"Well, arter it was all over, Jessamy took him aside into a quiet corner an' they prayed together."

"Jessamy was always a forceful evangelist!" she laughed.

"And there he is."

"Where?" questioned Diana.

"Listen and you'll hear him, Ann!" Sure enough from the boskages adjacent came the ring and tap of a hammer to the accompaniment of a rich, sweet voice unpraised in song.

Hereupon, setting two slim, white fingers to her mouth, Diana whistled loud and shrilly, to the Tinker's no small delight. Ensued a prodigious rustling and snapping of twigs and into the lane sprang the slender, shapely figure of Jessamy himself, as bright of eye, as light and quick of foot as ever.

I will not dilate upon this second meeting, but it was good to feel the hearty grip of his fingers, to hear the glad welcome in his voice, to see how gallantly he stooped to kiss Diana's hand, and how his sun-tanned cheek flushed beneath the touch of her lips.

"Why, Anna!" he exclaimed. "Well, well--you ha' become so--so--you look so uncommon--what I mean is--"

"Beautiful!" said the Tinker. "Be-autiful's the word, Jess!"

"Aye, aye, shipmate, so it is, comrade!"

"And the next word is strike camp, Jessamy, up stick an' away, Jess--"

"We're going to the old place, Jessamy!" nodded Diana.

"Where you instructed me in the 'n.o.ble art,' Jessamy!" said I.

"So it's all together and with a will, Jess!" added the Tinker.

"Aye, aye--and heartily!" laughed Jessamy.

I will pa.s.s over the labour of the ensuing hours wherein we all wrought cheerfully; but evening found us camped within that oft-remembered wood beside the stream whose murmurous waters seemed to find a voice to welcome us.

CHAPTER VI

WHICH, AS THE PATIENT READER SEES, IS THE LAST

The Tinker stood resplendent in bra.s.s-b.u.t.toned coat of bottle green which, if a little threadbare at the seams, made up for this by the astonishing size and sheen of its b.u.t.tons.

At this precise moment (I remember) he was engaged in brushing it vigorously, pausing between whiles to pick carefully at certain refractory blemishes, to give an extra polish to some particular b.u.t.ton, or consult the never-failing watch, for to-day Diana and I were to be married.

"By Goles, Peregrine, it's past twelve o'clock already!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "They ought to be here soon and--"

He checked suddenly and stood hushed and mute, for Jessamy had appeared,--a glorified Jessamy, resplendent from top to toe; his boots shone superbly, his coat sat on him with scarce a wrinkle, but his chief glory was his shirt, prodigiously beruffled at wrists and bosom.

The Tinker eyed these n.o.ble adornments in undisguised admiration.

"Lord, Jessamy!" he exclaimed. "Lord, Jess!"

At this, Jessamy's diffidence vanished and coming to the little mirror that hung against an adjacent tree, he scanned his reflection with an appreciative eye.

"Aye, aye, Jerry," quoth he, "when I wears a frilled shirt--which ain't often, as you know, Jeremy--I wears one with--frills!"

"Jerry, dear--O Jerry!" called Diana from the dingy tent.

"Yes, Anna!"