“Great heaven!” the young minister muttered, recoiling, “is the girl mad?” “Ah, but look at me, sir.” She seemed to grow still taller as she stood there, resting one hand on the tiller and looking at him with perfectly serious eyes. “Look at me well before your fancy lights ’pon some other o’ the girls. To-morrow they’ll be all after ’ee, an’ this’ll be my only chance; for my father’s no better’n a plain fisherman, an’ they’re all above me in money an’ rank. I be but a common Ruan girl, an’ my family is counted for naught. But look at me well; there’s none stronger nor comelier, nor that’ll love thee so dear!” The young man positively gasped. “Set me ashore at once!” he commanded, stamping his foot. “Nay, that I will not till thou promise, an’ that’s flat. Dear lad, listen--an’ consent, consent--an’ I swear to thee thou’ll never be sorry for’t.” “I never heard such awful impropriety in my life. Turn back; I order you to steer back to the harbor at once!” She shook her head. “No, lad, I won’t. An’ what’s more, you don’t know how to handle a boat, an’ couldn’t get back by yoursel’, not in a month.” “This is stark madness. You--you abandoned woman, how long do you mean to keep me here?” “Till thou give in to me. We’m goin’ straight t’wards Plymouth now, an’ if th’ wind holds--as ’twill--we’ll be off the Rame in two hours. If you haven’t said me yes by that, maybe we’ll go on; or perhaps we’ll run across to the coast o’ France----” “Girl, do you know that if I’m not back by daybreak I’m ruined?” “And oh, man, man! can’t ’ee see that I’m ruined, too, if I turn back without your word? How shall I show my face in Troy streets again, tell me?” At this sudden transference of responsibility the minister staggered. “You should have thought of that before,” he said, employing the one obvious answer. “O’ course I thought of it. But for love o’ you I made up my mind to risk it. An’ now there’s no goin’ back.” She paused a moment and then added, as a thought struck her, “Why, lad, doesn’t that prove I love ’ee uncommon?” “I prefer not to consider the question. Once more--will you go back?” “I can’t.” He bit his lips and moved forward to the cuddy, on the roof of which he seated himself sulkily. The girl tossed him an end of rope. “Dear, better coil that up an’ sit upon it. The frost’ll strike a chill into thee.” With this she resumed her old attitude by the tiller. Her eyes were fixed ahead, her gaze passing just over the minister’s hat. When he glanced up he saw the rime twinkling on her shoulders and the starshine in her dark eyes. Around them the firmament blazed with constellations, up to its coping. Never had the minister seen them so multitudinous or so resplendent. Never before had heaven seemed so alive to him. He could almost hear it breathe. And beneath it the little boat raced eastward, with the reef-points pattering on its tan sails.