That evening the blow, feared and expected, fell, for then, and not till then, I felt that we had lost, or thought we had lost, our maid.

I found the captain sitting in the summerhouse alone, without the usual solace of his tobacco and his October. "Jack," he said, with a gloomy sigh, "I am now the happiest of men, because my Molly is the most fortunate of women. I have attained the utmost I could hope or ask. The most virtuous of men—I should say of noble-men—has asked the hand of our girl. Molly will be a countess! Rejoice with me!"

I stood outside on the grass, having no words to say.

"She will marry him immediately. Nothing could be more happy or more fortunate. Such rank—such a position as places her on a level with the highest ladies of the land, though the daughter of plain folk, with a shipowner for a father and a sailor's daughter for a mother. There is promotion for you, Jack!"

"She will go away, then, and leave us!"

"Aye; she will leave us, Jack. She will leave us. His lordship—you do not ask who it is."

"Who can it be, captain, but Lord Fylingdale?"

"The best of men. He will carry her off to his country house, where they will live retired for a while, yet in such state as belongs to her rank. We shall lose her, of course. That, however, we always expected. The country house is in Gloucester, on the other side of England. Perhaps she may get to see us, but I am seventy-five, or perhaps more, and Jennifer, her mother, is not far from fifty. I cannot look to set eyes on her again. What matter." He hemmed bravely and sat upright. "What matter, I say, so that the girl is happy. Her mother may, perhaps, set eyes on her once more; but she will be changed, because, you see, our Molly must now become a fine lady."

"Yes," I groaned, "she must become a fine lady."

"Jack, sometimes I am sorry that she has so much money. Yet, what was I to do? Could I waste and dissipate her money? Could I give away her ships? Could I give her, with the fortune of a princess, to a plain and simple skipper? No; Providence—Providence, Jack, hath so ordered things. I could not help myself."

"No, captain; you could not help things. Yet…." I broke off.

"Well, Jack, why don't you rejoice with me? Why the devil don't you laugh and sing? All you want is to see her happy, yet there you stand as glum and dumb as a mute at a funeral."

"I wish her happiness, sir, with all my heart."

"Sam Semple came here this afternoon, by order of my lord. Sam gives himself airs now that he is a secretary and companion. He came and demanded a private conversation with me. It was quite private, he said, and of the utmost importance. So we sat in the parlour, and, with a bottle of wine between us, we talked over the business. First, he told me that his patron, as he calls him, meaning his master, had been greatly taken with the innocence and the beauty of Molly. I replied that unless he was a stock, or a stone, or an iceberg, I expected nothing less. He went on to say, that although a noble earl with a long pedigree and a great estate, his patron was willing to contract marriage with a girl who was not even of gentle birth, and had nothing but her beauty and her innocence. I told him that she had, in addition, a very large fortune. He said that his patron scorned the thought of money, being already much more wealthy than most noblemen of his exalted rank; that he was willing, also, to pass over any defects in manners, conversation, and carriage, which would be remedied by a little acquaintance with the polite world. In a word, his lordship offered his hand, his name, his title, his rank, and himself—to my ward."

"His condescension," I said, "is beyond all praise."

"I think so, too. Beyond all praise. I asked his advice touching a husband for my girl. He promises his assistance in the matter, and he then offers himself. Jack, could anything be more fortunate?"

"I hope it may turn out so. What does Molly say?"

"You may go in and ask her yourself. She will tell you more than she will tell anybody else. The matter is to be kept, for the present, a profound secret between his lordship and ourselves. But since Sam Semple knows it, and Jennifer knows it, and you are one of ourselves, therefore, you may as well know it, too. But don't talk about it."

"Why should it be kept a secret? Why should it not be proclaimed everywhere?"

"My lord says that the place is a hot-bed of scandal; that he would not have Molly's name passed about in the pump room to be the object of common gossip and inventions, made up of envy and malice. He would spare Molly this. When she is once married and taken away from the place they may say what they please. Whatever they say, they cannot do her any harm. Why, some of them even declared that she was one of the company of strolling actresses. There is nothing that they will not say."

I made no reply, because it certainly did seem as if in asking for secrecy his lordship had acted in Molly's interests.

"Well, captain, we must make the best of it. You must find your own happiness in thinking of Molly's."

"What aggravates me, Jack, is the ridiculous behaviour of my cousin Jennifer. She is in the kitchen crying, and the black woman with her. Go and comfort her before you see Molly."

I looked into the kitchen. Molly's mother sat in the great wooden chair beside the fireplace. She held her apron in her hands as if she had just pulled it off her face, and the tears were on her cheeks. When she saw me they began to flow again. "Jack," she said, "have you heard the news? Has the captain told you? The worst has happened. I have lost my girl. She is to be married; she will go away; she will marry a man who scorns her guardian and despises her mother. A bad beginning, Jack. No good can come of such a marriage. A bad beginning. Oh! I foresee unhappiness. How can Molly become a fine lady? She is but a simple girl—my own daughter. I have made her a good housewife, and all her knowledge will be thrown away and lost. It is a bad business, Jack. Nigra has been telling her fortune. There is nothing hopeful. All the cards are threatening. And the magpies—and the screech owl——"

She fell to weeping again. After which she broke out anew. "The captain says he is the most virtuous man in the world. It isn't true. If ever I saw the inside of a man in my life I have seen the inside of that man. He is corrupt through and through——"

"But—consider. All the world is crying up his noble conduct and his many virtues."

"They may say what they like. It is false; he is heartless; he is cold; he is selfish. He marries Molly for her money. Persuade the captain, if you can. He will not believe me."

"How can I persuade him? I have no knowledge. Are they all in a tale? Are you the only person who knows the truth? How do you know it?"

"I know it because I love my girl, and so I can read the very soul of a man. I have read your soul, Jack, over and over again. You are true and faithful. You would love her and cherish her. But this man? He knows not what love means, nor fidelity, nor anything. Go, Jack. There is no help in you or in any other. Because there is none other——" She spoke the words of the prayer book. "None other that fighteth for us, but only Thou, O God! Only Thou, O God!" She covered her face again with her apron and fell to sobbing afresh.

So I went into the parlour where Molly was sitting. "Jack!" she jumped up. "Oh, Jack, I want you so badly."

"I know all, Molly. Except what you yourself say and think about it."

She had a piece of work in her hands, and she began to pull it and pick it as she replied. For the first time in my life I found Molly uncertain and hesitating.

"The captain says that it is the greatest honour that was ever offered to any woman to be raised from a lowly condition to a high rank—and all for love."

"All for love?" I asked.

"Why, what else can it be that made him fight for me with that desperate villain? He risked his life. Whatever happens, Jack, I cannot forget that."

"No. It was doubtless a great thing to do. Has he told you himself that it was all for love?"

"He has not spoken about love at all. He has never once been alone with me. It seems that these great people make love by message. He sent a message by Sam Semple."

"A very fine messenger of Cupid, truly!"

"Offering marriage. The captain cannot contain his satisfaction and sits glum. My mother says she will never be able to see me again and begins to cry."

"Well—but, Molly, to be sure it is a great thing to become a countess. Most women would jump at the chance, under any conditions. Do you, however, think that you can love the man?"

"He hasn't asked for love. Oh, Jack, to think that people should marry each other without a word of love! If he loves me I suppose he thinks that I am bound to give him love in return."

"There, again, Molly, do you love the man?"

"Jack, nobody knows me better than you. What reply can I make?"

"He is too cold and too proud for you, Molly. How can you love him? Perhaps," I added, because I was very sure that she would marry him, "after marriage you will find that his coldness is only a cloak to hide his natural warmth, and that his pride covers his wife as well as himself."

"He is a good man. Everybody says so. Lady Anastasia declares that he is the most honourable and high-principled of men. On that point I am safe. And think, Jack, what a point it is! Why, to marry a drunkard, a sot, a profligate, a gambler—one would sooner die at once and so an end. But I can trust myself with him. I have no fear of such treatment as drives some wives to distraction. Yet he is cold in his manner and proud in his speech. I might find it in my heart to love him if I was not afraid of him." And so she went backwards and forwards. He was so good and so great; his wife must always respect him. He was of rank so exalted—it was a great honour to become his wife. He was so brave—she owed her rescue to his bravery. Yet he had spoken no word of love; nor had she seen any sign of love. I asked her what sign she expected, and she was confused. "Of course," she said, "every girl knows very well when a man is in love with her." "How does she know?" I asked her. "She knows, because she knows." I suppose she felt the man was not in love with her just as her mother felt that his character for virtue and nobility was assumed—"corrupt within," she said. Women are made so. And in the next breath Molly repeated that what his lordship had done was done for love. "How do you know?" I asked again. "Because the captain says so," she replied, with unconscious inconsistency.

"Is the courtship to be conducted entirely by messenger?" I asked.

"No; he will come to-morrow morning and see me. I am to give him an answer then. But the captain has already told him what the answer is to be. Oh, Jack, I am so happy! I am so fortunate that I ought to be happy. Yet I am so down-hearted about it. Going away is a dreadful thing. And when shall I see any of you, I wonder, again? Oh, I am so fortunate! I am so happy." And to show her happiness she dropped a tear, and more tears followed.

What kind of happiness, what kind of good fortune was that which could fill the mind of the captain with gloom and could dissolve Molly's mother in tears, and could herald its approach to the bride by sadness which weighed her down? And as for me, you may believe that my heart was like a lump of lead within me, partly because I was losing the girl I loved, but had never hoped to marry, and partly because from the outset of the whole affair—yes, from the very evening when the news of the grand discovery was read to the "Society of Lynn"—I had looked forward to coming events with foreboding of the most dismal kind.

"Come to see me to-morrow afternoon, Jack," she said. "I must talk about it to some one. With the captain I cannot talk, because he is all for the unequal match, and with my mother I cannot talk because she foretells trouble, and will acknowledge no good thing at all in the man or in the match. Do not forget, Jack. Come to-morrow. I don't know how many days are left to me when I can ask you to come. Oh, Jack, to leave everybody—all my friends—it is hard! But I am the most ungrateful of women, because I am the happiest—the happiest. Oh, Jack, the happiest and most fortunate woman that ever lived."