"That is why we are here," she went on. "Painful as it may be, we must now turn our attention to our own precaution. We must be prepared for the worst. We must vow to protect your union to the last. And if it comes to it, you must be willing to sacrifice my safety for your own. Do not argue with me, Michael! I have had a full life, thank God, for all its latter hardship. I am determined that you shall have the same. The blood of Scott and Talbert, our family, must endure." Having said this, she put one hand to the other, and slowly removed her wedding ring. She then placed it solemnly in her son's hand. No further explanation was needed. "Thank you, Mother. It means a great deal to me." Michael returned to stand by his betrothed, who looked up at him in awe and astonishment, feeling for the first time the full import of what was happening between them. They were to be man and wife, as surely, and unalterably, as he now stood before her. "Give me your hand, Mary." She did. "With this ring, on the day of November 2, 1749, I pledge to you my life, in the eyes of God and man. Mary. Will you have me as your husband?" She nodded fiercely, then all at once burst into tears. "You remember then," he added gently, "that this is your seventeenth birthday as well? I have not forgotten. It is the date I set long ago, when you were but a child, to speak openly of my love for you. I tell you now, if you did not already know it, that you have been my beacon and guiding star, the hope which I held fast to my heart, when all others deserted me. I love you, Mary, with every drop of my mortal blood. I'll love you in this world, and if there is a God, then surely I will love you in the next." He kissed her, long and full. Then began to pace, as if to master his own emotions. "All right then," he said, moving still. "Our safety. "The immediate danger---that of a sudden search---has already been addressed by my mother and myself. Our good steward, as the times grew dark, had the foresight to install a trap door with a small, stone-lined cellar beneath it. It has been checked, and with minor repairs, put in good working order. The cellar itself has been furnished with blankets, food and water. This occupied the better part of yesterday afternoon, the first of my return. I had determined to go in search of you this morning, when fortunately for both of us (I am still far from well, and had risked the daylight once already), you came to me first. "So far, until we've heard your story, I remain the principal danger to us all. If trouble does come, I can be hidden away in thirty seconds time. The door is here." He rolled back the threadbare carpet. "And the latch, here." He bent down and lifted the square trap on its hinges. When he let it down again, except by close scrutiny the wooden floor seemed of a piece, the door itself invisible. He replaced the carpet and came towards her, seeming calmer.