I should fight to the end. I do not think being your husband will add in the least to my danger—and it will possibly, legally, protect you."
"But how can I? Will it be legal?"
"Noreen, don't stop to argue, or doubt," I urged, grasping her hand in eagerness. "We haven't time. Listen to those voices in the hall! Of course it will be legal—Nichols is an ordained minister, and no license is required. I shall never attempt to hold you, Noreen, and any court will set you free the moment you tell the story. The one, the only thing, for you to consider now, is escape from Anse Cowan."
"You do this to—to save me?"
"To keep you from falling helplessly into the clutches of a beast—tell me yes! My God, girl, there they are now trying the door! Answer—will you?"
"Yes—yes, Tom Wyatt—"
With one leap past her I had Nichols by the collar, the muzzle of my revolver at his head. A heavy foot crashed against the locked door, and a voice without gave utterance to an oath.
"Marry me to this girl," I commanded sternly. "Come now, not a word; don't wait to ask a question. Noreen, take my hand—"
"Open up in there or we'll break down the door!" came hoarsely from the hallway.
