The Coming of Adam And Of Our Great Joy Therein

"Praise God!" said he, halting suddenly to flourish off his battered hat and glance from one to other of us with his old, whimsical look. "Praise God I do see again two souls, the most wilful and unruly in all this world, yet here stand ye that should be most thoroughly dead (what with the peril consequent upon wilfulness) but for a most especial Providence--there stand ye fuller of life and the joy o' living than ever."

"And you, Adam," reaching her hands to him in welcome, "you that must march 'gainst a mighty city with men so few! Death surely hath been very nigh you also, yet here are you come back to us unscathed save for your arm; surely God hath been to us infinitely kind and good!"

"Amen!" said Adam and stooping, raised these slender hands to his lips. "Howbeit, my Lady Wilfulness," quoth he, shaking his head, "I vow you ha' caused me more carking care than any unhanged pirate or Spaniard on the Main! You that must bide here all alone, contemning alike my prayers and commands, nor suffering any to stay for your comfort and protection and all for sake of this hare-brained, most obstinate comrade o' mine, that must go running his poor sconce into a thousand dangers (which was bad) and upsetting all my schemes and calculations (which was worse, mark you!) and all to chase a will-o'-the-wisp, a mare's nest, a--oh, Lord love you, Martin--!" And so we clasped hands.