At the end of the first week, they were sitting on opposite sides of a beach fire. A soft breeze, blowing off the water, added a chill to the evening air. Abby rose to put another log on the fire. Nat stood up quickly to help her. "Let me lift that, Abby," he said with an air of protection. "It's pretty heavy." "Please, no," she answered in her quaint way. "'Tis nothing. I have lifted heavier burdens than this many times." He put his hand on her wrist. It was the first time he had touched her since he had carried her from the gallows. For the past week he had been so preoccupied he had hardly noticed her as she had gone quietly about their impromptu camp, cooking the wild game and fish he had caught with his paralysis ray. The feel of her soft, warm wrist in his hand thrilled him. His voice suddenly left him, as he consciously realized for the first time how beautiful she was. Her fresh innocence, her complexion, freshly tanned by the Southern sun, seemed to fill his entire being. He drew her close, kissed her full lips. Because of her Puritan heritage, she exhibited surprise. "Verily, Nathanial Lyon, my people would frown on an embrace like this." Then she whispered, "But I find it most pleasant, because I have grown so very fond of thee." With that she threw her arms around him and pressed her lips to his. Time lost its meaning, and they stood for uncounted minutes. At last she shivered. "I feel a chill, dear Nat." "No wonder, darling," he whispered. "We've been standing here so long the fire has gone out." That night Nat made his decision. "I can't take you back to be hanged, Abby," he said tenderly. "But at the same time I can't go back to my own time, they'd do worse than that to me." "I understand not this time travel," Abby said thoughtfully. "If thou canst send this device to any time of thy choosing, couldst thou not spend months, or even years away and _still_ get back to your own time when thou art expected?" "That's it, Abby, that's it!" Nat shouted, jumping to his feet. "We'll stay away a lifetime. And when we take the machine back, they won't be able to do anything that matters because we'll have had our life together! Or better yet, we'll never go back at all!" Suddenly he sobered, dropped back to the ground beside her, taking her hands in his. "That is, if you'll marry me, Abby darling." "Why, Nathanial," she answered without a flicker of a smile. "That was all settled when first I yielded to thy embrace." Nat's mouth dropped open, then he laughed, as he remembered his studies of the customs and morals of Abby's time. "Abby, verily thou art priceless," he said delightedly in her own speech. She gave her opinion of him, silently ... with her lips. "Abby," Nat finally whispered, "I'm going to give you the best honeymoon a woman ever had." "Honeymoon? Of a truth, I know not of what thou speakest."