There was a brief silence, which Prue broke, addressing her husband, "I will not force myself upon you, Robin. Tell me what you wish and I will obey, even if it breaks my heart. But if you do not take me away, what will you do with me? You can not escort me yourself—you can hardly return me on Sir Geoffrey’s hands!—Am I to return to Tunbridge on foot and alone?" "I will charge myself with your ladyship’s safe conduct," interposed the duke impatiently. "A thousand thanks," returned Prue, sweeping a profound curtsey. "Your grace’s courage has not been overrated, yet methinks, if you reflect upon what might happen when some one told your charming duchess that you rode into Tunbridge at break of day with the Widow Brooke on the pillion, you will be grateful for my rejection of your offer." She turned to Robin with a submissive air that made at least one onlooker smile, "I will plead no more with you, Robin, but if I must leave you, swear to return to me and I will be true to you if I have to wait fifty years." She threw her arms round his neck and drawing his face down to her, kissed him with passionate abandon, then bursting into tears, sobbed out, "If you can leave me now, Robin, farewell!" There is a limit to the powers of endurance of the most resolute, and Robin could stand no more. He clasped her in his arms and soothed her with the tenderest caresses. "I will never leave you, my wife," he declared; "no one shall take you from me. You are mine and only Death shall rob me of the dearest treasure on earth. Say no more, my lord Duke; it is settled. My wife will go to France with me. The king will welcome the daughter of his father’s friend as the bride of his own faithful servant." "If your mind is made up I have no more to say," returned the other, with a look of deep annoyance, "except that if the Viscountess Brooke—" "Pardon me—the Lady Prudence de Cliffe," interposed a bland voice, and Lord Beachcombe stepped out of the shadow, and taking Prue’s hand, pressed a respectful salute upon it. "Permit me, Captain, to congratulate you on your marriage and to welcome your fair bride into the family of which I am the head. I had reason, dear Lady Prue, to fear that you might be molested on your journey, so took the liberty of following Sir Geoffrey’s carriage, to be at hand in case the road to Tunbridge might lead to—just such a breakdown as you suffered a while ago, and just such a romantic rescue as our gallant friend had prepared for you. I rejoice that I arrived in time to witness the reunion of husband and wife—such a delightful surprise for all of us!—and to wish them a happy future—beyond the sea!"