“I guess you won’t get anybody here, Lem,” he called out.

“But, Bob,” protested Cynthia, from within, afraid to show her face just then, “I have to go, I promised.  And—­and I want to go,” she added when he turned.

“I’m running a stage to Coniston to-day myself, Lem,” said he “and I’m going to steal your best passenger.”

Lemuel immediately flung down his reins and jumped out of the stage and came up the path and into the entry, where he stood confronting Cynthia.

“Hev you took him, Cynthy?” he demanded.

“Yes, Lem,” she answered, “won’t you congratulate me?”

The warm-hearted stage driver did congratulate her in a most unmistakable manner.

“I think a sight of her, Bob,” he said after he had shaken both of Bob’s hands and brushed his own eyes with his coat sleeve.  “I’ve knowed her so long—­” Whereupon utterance failed him, and he ran down the path and jumped into his stage again and drove off.

And then Cynthia sent Bob on an errand—­not a very long one, and while he was gone, she sat down at the table and tried to realize her happiness, and failed.  In less than ten minutes Bob had come back with Cousin Ephraim, as fast as he could hobble.  He flung his arms around her, stick and all, and he was crying.  It is a fact that old soldiers sometimes cry.  But his tears did not choke his utterance.

“Great Tecumseh!” said Cousin Ephraim, “so you’ve went and done it, Cynthy.  Siege got a little mite too hot.  I callated she’d capitulate in the end, but she held out uncommon long.”

“That she did,” exclaimed Bob, feelingly.

“I—­I was tellin’ Bob I hain’t got nothin’ against him,” continued Ephraim.

“Oh, Cousin Eph,” said Cynthia, laughing in spite of herself, and glancing at Bob, “is that all you can say?”

“Cousin Eph’s all right,” said Bob, laughing too.  “We understand each other.”

“Callate we do,” answered Ephraim.  “I’ll go so far as to say there hain’t nobody I’d ruther see you marry.  Guess I’ll hev to go back to the kit, now.  What’s to become of the old pensioner, Cynthy?”

“The old pensioner needn’t worry,” said Cynthia.

Then drove up Silas the Silent, with Bob’s buggy and his black trotters.  All of Brampton might see them now; and all of Brampton did see them.  Silas got out,—­his presence not being required,—­and Cynthia was helped in, and Bob got in beside her, and away they went, leaving Ephraim waving his stick after them from the doorstep.

It is recorded against the black trotters that they made very poor time to Coniston that day, though I cannot discover that either of them was lame.  Lem Hallowell, who was there nearly an hour ahead of them, declares that the off horse had a bunch of branches in his mouth.  Perhaps Bob held them in on account of the scenery that September afternoon.  Incomparable scenery!  I doubt if two lovers of the renaissance