Now he had abjured the Revolution, his father would be only too glad to
have him back, to see him married to a woman of Arithelli's charm and
breeding. There had never been any quarrel with his family, except
when he had joined the Red Flag party, and it was only natural that
they should quarrel over that. Love or the Revolution? There would
never be any more doubt now as to which he would choose.
In the old days he had preferred starvation, and the freedom to act,
and think as he liked. He had gloried in being an outcast, in
suffering for the Cause. Life had been hard at times, but he had known
men of ideals and enthusiasms and there had been a certain fascination
in the excitement of being hunted. But now that was all over and a new
day was dawning for them both, for himself and for Arithelli.
He spoke to his horse and stirred it into a quicker pace.
They must be well out of the way and she would think he was never
coming.
Inside the stable Arithelli, tall and straight in her scarlet shirt,
moved to and fro at her work, hanging up saddles and bridles, carrying
pails of water, ranging on either side of the hut the horses and the
mules.
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