"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 gazing at him with perfectly serious eyes. "Look at me well before you take up with 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 Ruan girl, an' my family is naught. But look at me well; there's none stronger nor comelier, nor that'll love thee so dear!"
The young man 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 harbour 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"
