“’Twas near about this time of the year that we started on our travels,” said I, in response to Dawson’s reminder.

“Aye, I recollect ’twas mighty cold when we set sail, and the fruit trees were all bursting into bloom when we came into France.  I would we were there now; eh, Moll?”

“What, dear?” asks she, rousing herself at this direct question.

“I say, would you be back there now, child?”

“Oh, will you take me there if I would go?”

“With all my heart, dear Moll.  Is there anything in the world I’d not do to make you happy?”

She took his hand upon her knee, and caressing it, says: 

“Let us go soon, father.”

“What, will you be dancing of fandangos again?” asks he; and she nods for reply, though I believe her thoughts had wandered again to some other matter.

“I warrant I shall fall into the step again the moment I smell garlic; but I’ll rehearse it an hour to-morrow morning, that we may lose no time.  Will you have a short petticoat and a waist-cloth again, Moll?”

She, with her elbows on her knees now, and her chin in her hands, looking into the fire, nodded.

“And you, Kit,” continues he, “you’ll get a guitar and play tunes for us, as I take it you will keep us company still.”

“Yes, you may count on me for that,” says I.

“We shan’t have Don Sanchez to play the tambour for us, but I wager I shall beat it as well as he; though, seeing he owes us more than we owe him, we might in reason call upon him, and—­”

“No, no; only we three,” says Moll.

“Aye, three’s enough, in all conscience, and seeing we know a bit of the language, we shall get on well enough without him.  I do long, Moll, to see you a-flinging over my shoulder, with your clappers going, your pretty eye and cheek all aglow with pleasure, and a court full of senors and caballeros crying ‘Hole!’ and casting their handkerchiefs at your feet.”

Moll fetched a long, fluttering sigh, and, turning to her father, says in an absent way:  “Yes, dear; yes.  When shall we go?”

Then, falling to discussing particulars, Dawson, clasping his hands upon his stomach, asked with a long face if at this season we were likely to fall in with the equinoxes on our voyage, and also if we could not hit some point of Spain so as to avoid crossing the mountains of Pyranee and the possibility of falling again into the hands of brigands.  To which I replied that, knowing nothing of the northern part of Spain and its people, we stood a chance of finding a rude climate, unsuitable to travelling at this time of year, and an inhospitable reception, and that, as our object was to reach, the South as quickly as possible, it would be more to our advantage to find a ship going through the straits which would carry us as far as Alicante or Valencia.  And Moll supporting my argument very vigorously, Dawson gave way with much less reluctance than I expected at the outset.  But, indeed, the good fellow seemed now ready to make any sacrifice of himself so that he might see his Moll joyous again.