Emily gave Bart a couple of days off by himself to cool down; in the meantime, she worked on mending bridges with her father.
It didn't take him long to bring up the subject of marriage. "I know that you're more than old enough to be married," he said to her after supper the next night. "And that I've not taken the time that I should have to find you a good husband."
"But, Daddy," Emily objected, "I've already found one..."
"No," Daddy replied. "Not him. Absolutely - definitely - not him."
"But, why not?" she asked again.
"I've told you why not," he answered, shaking his head. "You need someone you can be happy with - somebody ambitious and stable, who can work hard and provide well for you and your children. That's not your friend … it's just not in him." Then he walked away, and the discussion was over.
Emily tried many more times, over the next couple of days, to change his thinking, but Daddy would not budge. His attitude towards Bart, if anything, only hardened.
And Bart was little better. She had never seen him this furious, and it frightened her.
"I won't be treated like this," he raged. "Not by any man - if you can't smarten him up, I might just have to leave this town empty-handed!"
The impact of those last angry words hit like a hard slap across the face. Her Bart … going away without her? … Forever?
"No," Emily pleaded. "Please. Don't." She paused, and swallowed hard. "Let's just go away … get married on our own."
Bart gave her a hard look. "You mean - elope?"
Meekly, she nodded.
He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know about that."
Emily gasped. "But I thought that's what you wanted!" she cried.
"Well," he said. "When your father finds out, he's going to be very angry. No doubt, he'll cut you off - and we don't have the means for supporting the two of us."
She hadn't considered that.
He continued. "I'm doing alright, but I'm a single man - my profits aren't nearly enough to support a wife, too."
Emily's heart sank. That's exactly what her father had said.
Bart stopped talking and stroked his chin. "But there might be a way…"
"What's that?" she asked.
"It's a business opportunity. One that I was going to pass by, but it would be big enough to support us both and to change your father's mind."
That brought some hope back. "What is it?"
"There's a friend of mine," Bart answered. "He inherited a house - a nice one - in the next town over, from his uncle. But he lives out of town, and he'd rather sell it."
"So why doesn't he?" Emily inquired.
"Well, here's the thing," he replied. "It's got a lien against it - not a large one, but still enough to keep him from selling the house. So he's stuck with it."
"What's a lien?"
"Oh, it's kind of like a mortgage - but that's not important. He's offered to sell me the house at a large discount if I was to clear the lien myself. Then we could either rent it out or sell it ourselves."
"That sounds like a great idea," Emily gushed. "Why don't you do that?"
Bart saddened. "If I had the money, I would. But all of my own's tied up already - investments, and such. So I won't be able to take advantage of it - too bad for us."
Emily had an idea.
"Wait," she said. "What if you could get the money?"
He shrugged. "Then there'd be no problem - of course, I'd do it. But where would I get it?"
"From me," she said quietly. "Daddy's been saving for my dowry for years - it's my money."
"No," Bart objected. "I couldn't do that. And the money's not yours until after you're married."
"But you said we'd be getting the money back?"
That was true enough, he nodded.
"Then it'd just be a loan, then," she answered, and that settled that…
"So, now we'll be able to get married?" Emily asked him.
He looked down at her. "Yes," he answered.
Tears of joy came to her eyes, she rushed forward to embrace him, and she wept.
"I can't wait to tell Daddy about our investment," she said to him, as she was leaving.
"No," he said quickly, "Don't do that."
"But why not?"
Bart paused. "We should make it a surprise - show him the results after we've done it. He'll be more impressed that way."
"Okay," she said. That made sense.
Everything would have gone well after that, except that, against the odds, Daddy caught them at the tree the very next day. He had angrily sent her home and Bart away, and then the conversation that she had feared would happen took place.
"That does it," Daddy said. "I want you to never see him again. Or to even mention his name. Ever again."
"Oh, Daddy, please. Give him a chance."
"He doesn't deserve such a chance. And sneaking around behind my back like that? That alone … what were you thinking, Emily?"
She was tempted to mention the investment to him, but she didn't. It wouldn't have made a difference, the mood that Daddy was in…
"Look, I'll be gone this last trip and when I get back I'll call on the matchmaker and find you a proper husband - you have my word on that."
This time, she was the one that stormed off. In tears.
The next day, Daddy left for his sailing trip. He would be gone only for the fortnight, and then it would be too late: he would call the matchmaker as promised, and Bart would be gone forever. So they had made their hasty plans to leave. To book passage on the boat, and to run away and get married.
Now, if only he'd show up…
XXX
The horn blared again: twenty minutes to three in the early morning.
'I've had enough,' Emily thought. 'He's not coming.' She gathered up her cloak and pulled it on, then stood up and felt around for the satchel. It was still heavy: the walk back was not going to be an easy one. And the feeble light she'd had to walk by when she arrived was now gone.
She stubbed her toe twice and snagged her dress at least once during the first hundred steps.
At the end of those fifty paces Emily gave up and turned back: she (and the dress) would be better off waiting for the morning light.
The girl picked her way very carefully back to the rock and set the satchel down again on the ground.
Then, somewhere out in the quiet forest, a twig snapped.
She looked quickly to her right and then to her left, and back and forth again, straining to see as deeply as she could into the gloomy darkness.
Was it him? Had he finally come? Her heart, already beating hard - pounded harder.
A familiar silhouette loomed out of the shadows.
Emily was about to greet him, to tell him how relieved and happy she was to see him. Then she heard him laugh - the same horrid sound he had made just before he had murdered the little forest mouse.
And now she was that mouse…
She had barely enough time for one short scream, and then he was upon her.
The last thing she saw was his swift lunge, a sudden starburst of pain in her head, and then everything spun once and her world went black...