"Do you know where she is going, George? I can tell you--she is
going to your smithy--to pray for you--do you hear, to pray for
you? Come!" and I seized his arm.
"No, Peter, no--I durstn't--I couldn't." But he suffered me to
lead him forward, nevertheless. Once he stopped and glanced
round, but the village was asleep about us. And so we presently
came to the open doorway of the forge.
And behold! Prue was kneeling before the anvil with her face
hidden in her arms, and her slender body swaying slightly. But
all at once, as if she felt him near her, she raised her head and
saw him, and sprang to her feet with a glad cry. And, as she
stood, George went to her, and knelt at her feet, and raising the
hem of her gown, stooped and kissed it.
"Oh, my sweet maid!" said he. "Oh, my sweet Prue!--I bean't
worthy--I bean't--" But she caught the great shaggy head to her
bosom and stifled it there.
And in her face was a radiance--a happiness beyond words, and
the man's strong arms clung close about her.
So I turned, and left them in paradise together.