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“No,” he said, rising. “You shall have more ceremony than that, my poor little bride. Yesterday I bought rings in Amsterdam, and wine too, the best canary. Come into the house, love. I’m conventional and feel a wedding should be dignified by four walls.”

She nodded and tried to laugh, but could not forbear a quick glance down the path, knowing that beneath his attempt at lightness there was the fear of discovery by a neighbour - or by Thomas.

Once in his little house he shot the great iron bolt. He built the fire up, and she with uncertain nervous gestures tried to fill the pot with cornmeal and salt meat for their supper. They drank quickly of the strong canary, until the trembling of her knees passed. Then he stood beside her on the hearth, and held out two thick golden rings.

“I’ve never had a wedding band before!” she said, her voice shaking. “How shocked my Uncle Winthrop would be - Oh Lud!” she added on a note of hysteria. “Why did I speak of him?”

“Hush, Bess,” he said. “Hold out thy’ hand!”

She did so, sobering at once. This isn’t play-acting, she thought. Dear Lord, forgive us, what else can we do!

He took her hand. “I, William, take thee, Elizabeth, for my wife, and swear to love, honour, and cherish thee until death do us part.” He put the ring on her finger. And she with a steady voice repeated her own vow and placed his ring.

They looked at each other shyly, as their hands dropped.

“I think you should kiss me, now,” she said.

Fie bent and kissed her awkwardly, hurriedly, as he never had before. “Oh, Bess -” he whispered. “Bess, it
is
real enough, isn’t it?”

“Aye, my darling.” She felt a sharp stinging in her eyes, and said briskly, “Now, husband, I shall start our married life by proving me a shrew. Comb your hair, and shave your chin and take off that old leather doublet. Forsooth what sort of groom are you to grace the marriage bed!”

“A hobbledehoy,” he said with a lopsided grin. “A rustic clown - or what was it you called me on the
Lyon
the day of the fishing at the Banks?”

“I don’t remember, Will Hallet,” she said. “But I think I already loved you then, and what a strange toilsome journey we’ve come since.”

Nor is that journey ended yet, he thought. By God that we should get in such a fix.

The rising sun made golden cracks between the shutters, when the intrusion came which they had been expecting. Will’s sharp ears heard distant voices, and the horse whinnied in the shed.

He turned on his elbow and looked down at her, at the fair body which had responded so rapturously to his. Her long eyes, languid now and very soft, met his gaze with confidence, her red lips smiled a little.

“They’re coming, dear heart,” he said. “Are you ready? ‘Twill be nasty.”

“I’m not afraid,” she whispered. She raised her head and kissed him. “Indeed I had not known there could be such content”

“Nor had I,” he said in a voice of wonder.

His horse neighed again. Will jumped from the bed, and pulled on his breeches. “Hasten, hinnie,” he said. “Dress thyself.”

She had not fastened the buttons of her yellow gown before there was a thunderous banging on the door. And Thomas Lyon’s voice shouting, “Open up, William Hallet, open up at once or we shoot I”

“What the devil ails you!” Will cried back with anger. “What’s the meaning of this?” He threw the bolt, and flung wide the door so suddenly that Thomas stumbled through and nearly fell. Behind him were Angell Husted and Toby Feake. All three men were armed.

“I
knew
she was here!” Thomas shouted, pointing at Elizabeth. “Oh, strumpet! Oh, shameless whore!”

Toby’s face turned red beneath his freckles. He gaped at Elizabeth. “I couldn’t a believed it,” he mumbled. “I couldn’t.”

“Believed what?” said Will, stepping in front of Elizabeth. “Is it so strange that my wife should spend the night with me?”

“Wife,
forsooth!” cried Thomas, shaking. “Ye must think we’re crazed. She
has
a husband, you foul knave.”

“She has,” said Will. “ Tis I. As I shall shortly prove to you, if you’ll stop bellowing.”

The two big yeomen glared at each other and Angell said uneasily, “Best listen to him, Tom. There’s summat strange here.”

“Aunt, Aunt -” said Toby, still gaping at Elizabeth. “How could ye so disgrace the Feakes?”

“I haven’t, Toby,” she said, lifting her chin, and staging back at him. “I am divorced from Robert. ‘Twas why I went to New Amsterdam.”

“Divorced,” repeated Thomas, whirling en her. “You lie. You cannot be divorced!”

“I’ve the paper to prove it,” she said after the flicker of a glance at Will, who signalled back a “yes.”

She took the folded parchment from her pocket and spread it silently out on the table.

Thomas, Toby, and Angel! crowded round, staring down at the red New Netherland seal, at Wilhelm Kieft’s unmistakable signature, and the date April 714, 1647, which was clear enough.

“Ye know we can’t read that!” Thomas blurted, but his eyes shifted. “They’re diddling us! It might say anything there.”

“It was for that reason,” said Will, “that I’ve brought you an English confirmation.” He went to his saddlebag and took out a statement signed by George Baxter which said tersely that Elizabeth Feake’s divorce from Robert Feake was quite in order. Further than this slight ambiguity Baxter had not dared go in giving Will the statement. But, as Will had hoped, it so startled the three men that they were silent. Toby and Angell would have been satisfied, but Thomas’s wits were quicker and his interest stronger.

“So maybe she’s divorced,” he said, jerking his head. “Though I never heard the like for a sly sneaking bit o’ skulduggery. But that’s no proof of your marriage. When was
that
supposed to be?”

“After the divorce,” said Will with cold finality. “You see our wedding bands, and there’s an end to it I”

“Why, so it is,” said Angell, smiling suddenly. He had always admired Mrs. Feake, and he liked Will Hallet. Nor had he stomach for the violent scene Thomas Lyon had urged on him as his duty.

“ ‘Tis an upset,” said Toby slowly, mulling it over. “Ye might’ve told us sooner, Aunt, and spared us this morning’s jaunt. I’ve not even had my ale yet. Hallet, where’s your keg?”

“Oh, I’ll get you something, Toby,” cried Elizabeth, exhaling her breath. “And there’s enough for all!”

“Not so fast, my dear mother -” said Thomas, catching her roughly by the arm.
“I’m
no fool. This is some trick o’ Hallet’s to get possession o’ the property. Where’re your marriage lines?’’

Elizabeth’s mind swam, but before she could think of an answer, Will jumped over and struck Thomas’s hand off her arm. “There’ll be no more of your bullying!” he cried furiously. “And no more of your questions either! And also, Thomas, I feel that you’ve lived long enough at my wife’s house. I suggest you move to Stamford and those friends there you’re so fond of. You might spend your own money for a change!”

Thomas flinched, confused by this sudden attack, and switch of topic. His great fists doubled uncertainly. Will lowered his chin and stood ready. Angell hastily ran between them. “Now, now - men -” he said. “I allus wanted to see ye wrassle but not like this, not in bad blood. Ye best give in, Tom. Will Hallet’s get the right of it.”

Thomas’s eyes darted to Angell’s face and then to Toby’s, then returned to Will’s icy, watchful gaze. Thomas mastered his rage. Fighting the fellow would butter no parsnips now, and they were all against him at the moment. Also these startling developments wanted thinking out, and investigating. There was evasion somewhere, something fishy. He was sure of it.

“The matter’ll not end here, Hallet,” he said, picking up his musket. “But out of
respect
for my mother,” he made Elizabeth an ironic bow, “I’ll say no more at present. Are ye coming, men?”

“Aye,” said Angell. “My stock’s not been watered. I give you good day, Will, and - Mrs. Hallet, I suppose I should say now! Rebecca’ll be in a rare taking when she hears this!” He grinned and followed Thomas out the door.

Toby remained, noisily guzzling the ale Elizabeth brought him.

“That Thomas is a rare one for stirring up trouble,” he said meditatively. “Says he’s had a letter from Governor Winthrop.”

“What?” gasped Elizabeth, putting down her mug, “From my Uncle John? Thomas hasn’t been writing to
him
?”

“Oh, aye,” said Toby calmly. “About the property and what’s due Joan, which he thinks not enough, and about that paper my Uncle Feake gave you an’ Hallet afore he went to Boston.”

Panic struck Elizabeth as it had not during all Thomas’s rantings. “What has Thomas been telling them in Boston?” she whispered half to herself.

“I dunno,” said Toby, belching pleasurably. “But Anneke thinks he’s working on the Governor to get Uncle Feake to repudiate that paper. But now -” said Toby, shrugging, “that you’ve divorced my uncle, I expect there’ll be more confusion. ‘Tis a good thing you’ve married Hallet, Aunt, or you might be in danger o’ losing everything you own.”

Elizabeth and Will, in her house on Greenwich Cove, had some months of uneasy peace. It was the happiest time they had ever known, perhaps because they felt an urgency to savour each moment, and a lurking threat, though they never spoke of this. In their big bed upstairs at night they both learned the unguessed delights of passion when it was also mingled with tenderness and humour. By days they worked at their separate tasks - and though often apart from sunrise to sundown, they were always conscious of each other.

Thomas and Joan had duly moved to Stamford. Elizabeth was saddened at parting with her daughter, and by the sullen look in Joan’s brown eyes, but once the Lyons were gone the house took on a lightness and gaiety it had never known through the long years.

The children blossomed. They accepted without question the news of their mother’s marriage and Will Hallet’s installation in their home. The girls were delighted, Lisbet in her own frivolous way, Hannah with a loving welcome for a normal and responsive father at last.

As for the little boys, Will gave them companionship and some much-needed discipline, and he taught them to whittle and chop and make good tools.

During the short time that they were left in peace, Will enormously improved Elizabeth’s estate, which had never been well managed. He sold some of her most northern acres to a Dutch settler, and bought livestock with the proceeds; two more cows, and a bull to service all the township. He bought five ewes and a ram. He changed the feed for Elizabeth’s puny swine, and they began to thrive. He burned down trees, as the Indians did, to clear many acres, which he cannily planted for the highest yield in bailey, wheat, and corn.

He farmed his own Totomack lands too; and as all this industry taxed even his great strength, he hired one of the new Dutch lads and young Danny Patrick to help him.

Since Toby did no farming, Anneke could well spare Danny, who was now a big hearty youth, and she had forgiven Elizabeth and Will.

“Och, Bess -” she said one day. “I vas so upset about you, I thought you vere turning light and vicked. Divorce is bad, ja - but I can’t blame you, lieveling. And you have got a good husband at last”

“I have, I have,” said Elizabeth, her eyes shining as they always did when she thought of Will. She no longer felt guilty when anyone referred to their marriage. Surely there was no real deception, and they had harmed nobody. With each evidence of their increased prosperity, she felt more secure. Even Thomas seemed no menace now. They never saw him, and though Elizabeth sometimes missed Joan, the affection of the other children amply made up for it. She was so happy that summer and so busy that she scarcely visited Monakewaygo, and then only the beach. The secret pool no longer called her. In fact the memory of her former feelings for the pool made her uncomfortable. Her garden and her children - and Will’s arms at night - sufficed. She wanted to think of nothing else.

The first blow fell at their Harvest Festival, a day of Thanksgiving and feasting observed at different times throughout all the colonies. Elizabeth and Will, as Greenwich’s undisputed leaders, and the owners of the largest house, invited the whole community, and selected the date - the thirty-first of October.

“Hallowe’en it’ll be too,” said Elizabeth gaily to the children. “We’ll have the games and sport we used to have at Groton when I was little, and jack-o’-lanterns! We used to make them from turnips, but our pumpkins’ll do better, and bobbing for apples, fortune-telling with chestnuts, and a bonfire I”

“Couldn’t you manage a husking bee as well, Bess?” said Will with a twinkle. ‘“T’would be a pity to miss anything, and I’d like a chance at finding a red ear of corn.”

“Oh, you would, would you?” she said, tossing her head. “And pray whom would you kiss?”

“Goody Crab,” said Will solemnly. “I’ve got a hankering for her.”

The children burst into delighted squeals, and Elizabeth gave her rare joyous laugh,

“Nay - but make it a real gaudy night,” Will said, squeezing her waist. “We’ve all had a fine harvest and much to be thankful for.”

“So much,” she said, looking up into his eyes.

The neighbours were excited at the preparations, all the housewives baked and brewed for days, and the men boasted about it in Stamford, when they went there on market day. Thomas Lyon heard of Greenwich’s festival, and delayed by a little certain plans. The results would be far more rewarding if all Greenwich was there to witness.

He went off to confer again with the Reverend Mr. Bishop and Mr. Richard Lawe.

All Hallows Eve was a hazy autumn day, with enough chill in the air to make very welcome the huge bonfire, and later the four hearth fires Elizabeth extravagantly lighted in her house. By mid-afternoon the neighbours began to straggle in, shuffling through the fallen leaves, each bearing some donation for the feast. They laughed when they saw the pumpkin jack-o’-lanterns the children had carved into grinning faces, and lit by candles from inside; they jested with each other, and told tales of goblins and spectral lights seen in Old England on this night.