"Daniel, you are my dear friend for always, and I am glad to feel that you would take care of me if you could, but truly there is nothing you can do. I would not have you go to him for the world. He must not know where I am, nor be troubled ever by any thought of me. It was for that I came away. You would grieve me more than I can tell you if you did. I want him to forget me, because it could only make him trouble if he found me. He would _have_ to come to me. He would want to come, I know, if you told him. But I don’t want him to come. You don’t understand, of course, and I mustn’t tell you any more, only there is nothing can be done but for me to go away and find a place somewhere where no one can find me. Then people will forget, and I shall not bring any trouble or disgrace on him—though it wasn’t at all my fault," she added. "I want you to know that, Daniel." "Of course," growled Dan, looking down at the little hand on his as if it were an angel’s and might be wafted away with a breath. "But I’m going with you myself, then, and see you to some safe place." "Oh, but you mustn’t, Dan. I couldn’t let you. It wouldn’t be right, you know. People would think it very strange." "People needn’t know anything about it. I don’t need to talk to you. I can keep far enough away to see that no one hurts you, till you get a good, safe place." "But, Dan, the folks at your home? They would think we had gone away together! I do not want them to think wrong of me, even if I’m not there to bear it." Dan was baffled. He saw at once that it would not do. He must go back and bear the loneliness and the thought of her fighting her own battles. "Well, I’ll go with you now, any way," he said at last, with determination. "I’ll see you safe to some coach somewhere, an’ come back in the night. I can get to my room without Mother hearing me. She never worries about me now any more, an’ don’t stay awake to listen for me. She’ll never know when I get in. I’ll go back an’ tell ’em I helped carry your bag across country to Cherry Valley coach, or somewhere. I’ve got the parson’s letter here in my pocket. That villain came to the school-house after you, an’ I picked up the letter so he wouldn’t see it." "Oh, did he come to the school after me? Then perhaps he has followed us. Dan, I must go quickly!" "Come on," said Dan, as though he were proposing to walk to his death. At least, he was not to leave her yet. He picked up her bag, and helped her to her feet; then, still holding the hand by which he had helped her up, he bent over and kissed it reverently. Then he straightened up with a royal look of manhood in his eyes and turned to her: "You won’t mind that just once, will you? That hand did a whole lot fer me, beginning when it gave me that first licking."