"Mother av Heavin! An' which,--forgive me lass,--which man av the three
did ye love? For 'tis only love could be behind such deeds as these!"
The ready tears were swimming in the Irishwoman's blue eyes, straight
from her warm heart, and she was leaning forward in the intensity of
her sympathy and excitement.
"Which, Madame? Why, M'sieu the factor, surely."
And Maren looked into the red heart of the fire.
With a sudden impulse this daughter of Erin dropped her plank in the
ashes, and coming swiftly forward, fell on her knees with her arms
around the girl's neck.
"Saints be praised!" she cried, weeping openly. "Saints be praised, ye
have him safe! An' there can nothin' ha'arm ye now, with us goin' yer
ways so close! An' there'll be a weddin' av coorse whin th' poor lad
comes round! F'r a flip av ale I'd command Terence to turn aside an' go
triumphant entry-in' to this blessid fort av yours and witness th'
ceremonies!"
Maren smiled sadly and laid her hand on the black head tucked into her
neck. It was a caress, that touch, tender and infinitely sweet, for
with the quick heart of her she knew the little woman to be of the gold
of earth, and she was conscious of a longing to keep her near, who was
so soon to sail "into the risin' sun" and who had been so short a time
her friend.
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