Immediately he objected, saying that the scheme was impossible.  He said that he could sell the Old Swan for a great sum to Robbins, of the Dog’s Head, and that all he possessed, aside from the inn, was in gold, lodged with Backwell, but for all that, my plan could not be considered for a moment.

“My dear Pickering, hear my side of the case,” I insisted, determined to win this last bout as I had won the others.  “You love your daughter and would be unhappy if she were to leave you alone in the world?”

“Indeed I should be,” he answered firmly.  “I will not consider your suggestion.  I will not.  I will not.”

“She is more generous than you,” I returned, “and refuses to leave you, though she would be very unhappy if you force her to remain.”

“I suppose you think so,” he replied sullenly.

“I know so,” I answered, “and can prove it by Betty.”  Betty nodded her head “Yes,” and I continued:  “You will not be unhappy in France with us.  You will be happy.  Yet you refuse to be happy save in your own stubborn way, even though you bring grief to the tenderest heart in the world.  But come, come, Pickering!  This will not do!  I tell you, I’m not to be refused!”

Pickering lapsed into stubborn silence, and as there is no arguing with a man who will not argue, I determined to take another course; so I spoke sharply:—­

“Since you will not be reasonable, I have another plan to suggest:  I will give up my prospects of fortune in France, and will live here in this rotten Old Swan as long as you live, never taking Betty from your side.  If you do not give her to me under these conditions, I will take her away without any conditions.  Eh, Betty?”

Betty hung in the wind for a moment, then nodded slowly:—­

“Yes.”

Pickering covered his face with his hands for a moment, then looked up to me and asked:—­

“Would you do that, baron?  Would you come down from your high estate to our lowly condition for the sake of my poor little girl?”

“Yes, Pickering,” I answered.

Then after a moment’s thought, he said:  “I’ll sell the Old Swan and go with you to France.”

Betty took my hand, then she grasped her father’s, drew him down to her and kissed him.

So Betty and I were married in the little chapel at the Southwark end of London Bridge, and off we went to our friends in France, where God blessed us and we were very happy.  We had all been tried by the Touchstone of Fortune, and had won her Ladyship’s smile!  May God comfort those on whom she frowns!

NOTE

Baron Clyde seems to be the only writer of the period of Charles II who mentions the part taken by George Hamilton and Frances Jennings in the sale of the city of Dunkirk, but, of course, the particulars of that disgraceful affair would have been kept a secret from all save those who participated in it.