The newly made husband put his name upon the register. Then, as he drew Dorothy forward to take his place, he bent down until his face came beneath her own, and gave her a curious, beseeching look,--one that seemed to act upon her bewildered senses like a deadening drug. Yes, he was right. She loved him better than all else in the world. Her mind had fought the truth these many months; but now her heart rose up, a giant in strength and might, and she could never question it again. For a moment her great dark eyes looked down into his pleading ones. Then in a subdued, obedient way, entirely unlike the wilful Dorothy of all her former life, she took the pen he proffered and wrote her name underneath his bold signature. A deep sigh now burst from his lips,--one of happy relief; then, as if utterly unmindful of the minister's presence, he pressed a kiss upon the little hand that still held the pen. She submitted to this in silence, standing before him with downcast face, and eyes that seemed fearing to meet his gaze, while he carefully drew the cloak about her once more. "I trust, Mistress Dorothy, you will in no wise hold me accountable for this young man's rashness, when the matter shall come to your father's ears, but that you will kindly raise your voice in my behalf to testify how that I was forced for my life's sake to agree." Master Weeks was already on the black list, owing to his well-known sympathy for the King's cause, and for having remonstrated openly with the patriots of his congregation. "You have but to keep a close mouth, Master Weeks," said Southorn, as the little man lighted them into the hall; "and the closer, the safer it will be for your own welfare, until such time as one of us shall call upon you to speak." A few minutes later they were again speeding along, with everything about them as silent as the stars now glittering in an unclouded sky. The touch of the keen air upon Dorothy's face seemed to arouse her; and as her senses became awakened, she was filled with a wild yearning for the safe shelter of her father's arms. What would that father say,--how was she ever to tell him of this dreadful thing? And yet was it sure to be so dreadful to her? Yes, it must be. This man was the sworn enemy of her country, and of the cause for which her brother and her friends were imperilling their very lives. If she went with him--this Englishman who was now her husband--it meant that her family would brand her as a traitor, and that she would be an outcast from them. It might bring about the death of her father, the light of whose eyes and life she knew herself to be. She seemed to see once more the beloved face, and hear his voice, warning the pedler to take care of her. And poor Johnnie Strings--might he not at this moment be dead, stricken down by the followers of this very man who was now holding her so close to his breast, and murmuring fond words between the kisses he pressed upon her lips.