The Broad Highway - Page 220/374

"No," said I.

"Very well then!" he nodded, and, lifting his brooms, made

towards the cottage door!

"Where are you going?"

"To sleep in this 'ere empty 'ut."

"But it isn't empty!"

"So much the better," nodded the Pedler, "good night!" and, with

the words, he laid his hand upon the door, but, as he did so, it

opened, and Charmian appeared. The Pedler fell back three or

four paces, staring with round eyes.

"By Goles!" he exclaimed. "So you are married then?"

Now, when he said this I felt suddenly hot all over, even to the

very tips of my ears, and, for the life of me, I could not have

looked at Charmian.

"Why--why--" I began, but her smooth, soft voice came to my

rescue.

"No--he is not married," said she, "far from it."

"Not?" said the Pedler, "so much the better; marriage ain't love,

no, nor love ain't marriage--I'm a married cove myself, so I know

what I'm a-sayin'; if folk do talk, an' shake their 'eads over

ye--w'y, let 'em, only don't--don't go a-spilin' things by

gettin' 'churched.' You're a woman, but you're a fine un--a

dasher, by Goles, nice an' straight-backed, an' round, an' plump

if I was this 'ere cove, now, I know what--"

"Here," said I hastily, "here--sell me a broom!"

The Pedler drew a broom from his bundle and passed it to me.

"One shillin' and sixpence!" said he, which sum I duly paid over.

"Don't," he continued, pocketing the money, and turning to

Charmian, "don't go spilin' things by lettin' this young cove go

a-marryin' an' a-churchin' ye--nobody never got married as didn't

repent it some time or other, an' wot's more, when Marriage comes

in at the door, Love flies out up the chimbley--an' there y'are!

Now, if you loves this young cove, w'y, very good! if this 'ere

young cove loves you--which ain't to be wondered at--so much the

better, but don't--don't go a-marryin' each other, an'--as for

the children--"

"Come--I'll take a belt--give me a belt!" said I, more hastily

than before.

"A belt?" said the Pedler.

"A belt, yes."

"Wi' a fine steel buckle made in--"

"Yes--yes!" said I.

"Two shillin' an' sixpence!" said the Pedler.

"When I saw you last time, you offered much the same belt for a

shilling," I demurred.