The road as it climbed above the town toward Sabines grew rough and full of pitfalls. Even by the light of the full moon shining between the elms Miss Quiney's chairmen were forced to pick their way warily, so that the couple on the side-walk--which in comparison was well paved-- easily kept abreast of them. Ruth walked with the free grace of a Dryad. The moonlight shone now and again on her face beneath the arch of her wimple; and once, as she glanced up at the heavens, Mr. Hanmer--interpreting that she lifted her head to a scent of danger, and shooting a sidelong look despite himself--surprised a lustre as of tears in her eyes; whereupon he felt ashamed, as one who had intruded on a secret. "Mr. Hanmer." "Ma'am?" "I have a favour to beg. . . . Is it true, by the way," she asked mischievously, "that to talk with a woman distresses you?" "Ma'am--" "My name is Ruth Josselin." Mr. Hanmer either missed to hear the correction or heard and put it aside. "Been at sea all my life," he explained. "They caught me young." Ruth looked sideways at him and laughed--a liquid little laugh, much like the bubbling note of a thrush. "You could not have given an answer more pat, sir. I want to speak to you about a child, caught young and about to be taken to sea. You are less shy with children, I hope?" "Not a bit," confessed Mr. Hanmer. He added, "They take to me, though-- the few I've met. "Dick will take to you, for certain. Dicky is Sir Oliver's child." "I didn't know--" Mr. Hanmer came to a full stop. "No," said Ruth, as though she echoed him. "He is eight years old almost." Her eyes looked straight ahead, but she was aware that his had scanned her face for a moment, and almost she felt his start of reassurance. "So, the child being a friend of mine, and his father having promised him a cruise in the _Venus_, you see that I very much want to know what manner of lady is Captain Harry's wife; and that I could not ask you point-blank because you would have set the question down to idle curiosity. . . . It might make all the difference to him," she added, getting no answer. "A child of eight, and the country at war!" Mr. Hanmer muttered. "His father must know that we cruise ready for action." "I tell you, sir, what Dicky told me this morning." "But it's impossible!" "To that, sir, I might find you half a dozen answers. To begin with, we all know--and Sir Oliver perhaps, from private information, knows better than any of us--that peace is in sight. Here in the northern Colonies it has arrived already; the enemy has no fleet on this side of the world, and on this coast no single ship to give you any concern." "Guarda-costas? There may be a few left on the prowl, even in these latitudes. I don't believe it for my part; we've accounted for most of 'em. Still--" "And Captain Harry thinks so much of them that he sails from Carolina to Boston with his bride on board!"