"That I _do_ know, and shall remember as much for her sake as for yourn and for mine," answered the honest fellow, with a note of deep feeling in his voice. "There's only one consideration, Mr. Barclay, that worrits me. I onderstood you to say, sir, that your honour has a cousin who's a clergyman that's willing to marry ye right away out of hand." "We must get the consent of the aunt first." "_There_ it is!" cried he, smiting the head of the tiller with his clenched fist, "suppose she dorn't consent?" "We have taken this step," said I softly, always afraid of disturbing my sweetheart, "to _force_ her to consent. D'ye think she can refuse, man, after she hears of this elopement--this midnight rope-ladder business--and the days we hope to spend together on this little _Spitfire_?" "Still, Mr. Barclay, supposing she do, sir? You'll forgive me for saying of it; but supposing she _do_, sir?" "No good in supposing, Caudel," said I, suppressing a little movement of irritation; "no good in obstructing one's path by suppositions stuck up like so many fences to stop one from advancing. Our first business is to get to Penzance." By his motions, and the uneasy shifting of his posture, he discovered himself ill at ease, but his respectfulness would not allow him to persevere with his inquiries. "Caudel," said I, "you may ask me any questions you please. The more you show yourself really anxious on behalf of Miss Bellassys, the more shall I honour you. Don't fear. I shall never interpret your concern for her into a doubt of me. If Lady Amelia absolutely refuses her sanction, what then remains but to place Miss Bellassys with my sister and wait till she comes of age?" So speaking, and now considering that I had said enough, I threw the end of my cigar overboard and went below. It was daylight shortly before six, but the grey of the dawn brightened into sunrise before Grace awoke. Throughout the hours she had slept without a stir. From time to time I had dozed, chin on breast, opposite to where she lay. The wind had freshened, and the yacht was lying well down to it, swarming along, taking buoyantly the little sea that had risen, and filling the breeze, that was musical with the harmonies of the taut rigging, with the swift noise of spinning and seething water. The square of heavens showing in the skylight overhead wore a hard, marble, windy look, but the pearl-coloured streaks of vapour floated high and motionless, and I was yachtsman enough to gather from what I saw that there was nothing more in all this than a fresh Channel morning, and a sweep of southerly wind that was driving the _Spitfire_ along her course some eight or nine miles in the hour.