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Gorman went to the cave again, on the day after he had first seen the tanks and run von Moll's petrol to waste. He went by himself. The Queen and Phillips took no further interest in the mystery for the moment. They went off together early in the day and did not return until evening. Even Gorman could not blame them. It was their last day together. It was gloriously fine.
Dressed in my best with great care, and put on the favour of white ribbons given me by Moll's woman last night, and so very well pleased with my looks, to the Court, where Moll is still a-dressing, but Mr. Godwin and Don Sanchez, nobly arrayed, conversing before the fire. Godwin tells me they are raised in houses of glass very artificially heated.
Very few words had passed between them since they left the curious but friendly crowd in the public square. Finally Moll's dubious thoughts found expression in words, breaking in upon the detached reflections of her two companions. "I don't see why they let me off like that, Mis' Gwyn. I killed him, didn't I?" "Yes, Moll, but the law does not convict a person who kills in self-defence.
Ambrose only exclaimed "O uncle, you must have been hard pressed." For indeed the grave, almost melancholy man, who stood before them, regarding them wistfully, had little in common with the lithe tumbler full of absurdities whom they had left at York House. "Even so, my good lad. Thou art right in that," said he gravely. "Harder than I trust will ever be the lot of you two, my sweet Moll's sons.
Deeper and deeper into the sizzling pot stared the faded blue eyes of the hag, the dark wide-spread ones of the girl following every movement of Ma Moll's hand. "Aye, there air a cross for ye, brat, to carry on yer back " "Air there no Christ a bearin' one for Daddy?" Suddenly the door burst open, and the raging wind flickered out the candle.
Having Moll's approval, Dario set to work forthwith to colour his perspective; and this he did with the sure firm hand of one who understands his business, and with such nice judgment, that no builder, whose design is ordered by fixed rule and line, could accomplish his work with greater truth and justice.
And though Moll, from her lack of knowledge, made many slips, and would now and then say things uncustomary to women of breeding, yet these were easily attributed to her living so long in a barbarous country, and were as readily glanced over. Indeed, nothing could surpass Moll's artificial conduct on these occasions.
"Where is her mother?" asks Don Sanchez, presently; and Dawson, without taking his eyes from Moll's face, lifts his pipe upwards, while his big thick lips fell a-trembling. Maybe, he was thinking of his poor Betty as he looked at the child's face. "Has she no other relatives?" asks the Don, in the same quiet tone; and Jack shakes his head, still looking down, and answers lowly: "Only me."
So I to Dawson's chamber, and he to Moll's, and in a little while we all shivering down to the great kitchen, where is never a muleteer left, but only a great stench of garlic, to eat a mess of soup, very hot and comforting.
He spoke in German, but he spoke very deliberately, pronouncing each word carefully. The Queen had no difficulty in understanding what he said. Smith replied in a much lower tone. She could not hear him. "Ach," said von Moll, "the old man is a fool, good. And the girl do you know, Fritz, I think I shall marry the girl!" The Queen shut her window. She had no wish to hear more of von Moll's plans.
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