'
Then we talked on, and I cannot remember what we said, though these
words that I have written down remain in my mind, partly because of
their own weight, and in part because of all that came about in the
after years.
And at last I knew that I must go, though we were sad enough at parting.
So I took her in my arms and kissed her so closely that some blood from
my wound ran down her white attire. But as we embraced I chanced to look
up, and saw a sight that frightened me enough. For there, not five paces
from us, stood Squire Bozard, Lily's father, watching all, and his face
wore no smile.
He had been riding by a bridle-path to the watering ford, and seeing a
couple trespassing beneath the oaks, dismounted from his horse to hunt
them away. Not till he was quite near did he know whom he came to hunt,
and then he stood still in astonishment. Lily and I drew slowly apart
and looked at him. He was a short stout man, with a red face and stern
grey eyes, that seemed to be starting from his head with anger. For a
while he could not speak, but when he began at length the words came
fast enough. All that he said I forget, but the upshot of it was that he
desired to know what my business was with his daughter. I waited till
he was out of breath, then answered him that Lily and I loved each other
well, and were plighting our troth.
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