om theer. I raved an' prayed an' pled wi' th' lass to let me carry her
across th' seas, wheer I'd heerd tell theer was help fur such loike; but
she pled back i' her broken, patient way that it wouldna be reet, an'
happen it wur the Lord's will. She didna say much to th' sojer. I scarce
heerd her speak to him more than once, when she axed him to let her go
away by hersen.

"'Tha conna want me now, Phil,' she said. 'Tha conna care fur me. Tha
must know I'm more this mon's wife than thine. But I dunnot ax thee to
gi' me to him because I know that wouldna be reet; I on'y ax thee to let
me aloan. I'll go fur enough off an' never see him more.'

"But th' villain held to her. If she didna come wi' him, he said, he'd
ha' her up before th' court fur bigamy. I could ha' done murder then,
Mester, an' I would ha' done if it hadna been for th' poor lass runnin'
in betwixt us an' pleadin' wi' aw her might. If we'n been rich foak
theer might ha' been some help fur her, at least; th' law might ha' been
browt to mak' him leave her be, but bein' poor workin' foak theer wur
on'y one thing: th' wife mun go wi' th' husband, an' theer th' husband
stood--a scoundrel, cursin', wi' his black heart on his tongue.

"'Well,' says th' lass at last, fair wearied out wi' grief, 'I'll go wi'
thee, Phil, an' I'll do my best to please thee, but I wunnot promise to
forget th' mon as has been true to me, an' has stood betwixt me an' th'
world.'

"Then she turned round to me.

"'Tim,' she said to me, as if she wur haaf feart--aye, feart o' him, an'
me standin' by. Three hours afore, th' law ud ha' let me mill any mon
'at feart her. 'Tim,' she says, 'surely he wunnot refuse to let us go
together to th' little lad's grave--fur th' last time.' She didna speak
to him but ti me, an' she spoke still an' strained as if she wui too
heart-broke to be wild. Her face was as white as th' dead, but she didna
cry, as ony other woman would ha' done. 'Come, Tim,' she said, 'he conna
say no to that.'

"An' so out we went 'thout another word, an' left th' black-hearted
rascal behind, sittin' i' th' very room th' little un deed in. His
cradle stood theer i' th' corner. We went out into th' moonlight 'thout
speakin', an' we didna say a word until we come to this very place,
Mester.

"We stood here for a minute silent, an' then I sees her begin to shake,
an' she throws hersen down on th' grass wi' her arms flung o'er th'
grave, an' she cries out as if her death-wound h