as lurching away with a guffaw; for the tow-path here ran within
two furlongs of the high road, and a man upon skates cannot pursue
across _terra firma_.

But he had reckoned without Hetty, who had seated herself on the edge
of the barge and who now shook her feet free of Johnny Whitelamb's
rough clamps, and, springing from the deck to the towpath, took him
by the collar as he turned.

"Go!" she cried, and with her open palm dealt him a stinging slap
across the cheek. "Go!"

The man put up his hand, fell back a moment with a dazed face, and
then without a word ran for the highway, his bag of tools rattling
behind him.

Never was route more ludicrously sudden. Even in her wrath Hetty
looked at her lover and broke into a laugh.

"Let me skate up the canal and head him off," said he. "Half a mile
will give me lead enough to slip out of these things and collar him
on the highway."

"He is not worth it. Besides, he may not be going towards Kelstein:
in this light we cannot see the road or what direction he takes.
Let him be, dear," Hetty persuaded, as the old woman called out from
her cabin that the kettle boiled. "Our time is too precious."

Then, while he yet fumed, she suddenly grew grave.

"Was it truth he was telling?"

"Truth?" he echoed.

"Yes: about Lincoln Fair?"

"Oh, the boxing-booth, you mean? Well, my dear, there was something
in it, to be sure. You wouldn't have me be a milksop, would you?"

"No-o," she mused. "But I meant what he said about--about those
women. Was that true?"

He was on the point of answering with a lie; but while he hesitated
she helped him by adding, "I am not a child, dear. I am
twenty-seven, and older than you. Please be honest with me, always."

He was young, but had an instinct for understanding women.
He revised the first lie and rejected it for a more cunning one.
"It was before I met you," he said humbly. "He made the worst of it,
of course, but I had rather you knew the truth. You are angry?"

Hetty sighed. "I am sorry. It seems to make our--our love--
different somehow."

The bargewoman brought out their tea. She had heard nothing of the
scrimmage on the bank, so swiftly had it happened and with so few
words spoken.

"Halloa--is the tinker gone? And I'd cut off a crust for him.
Well, I can eat it myself, I suppose; and after all he was low
company for the likes of you, though any company comes well to folks
that can't pick and choose." In th