She replied to this with such animation of countenance, and said, "Every word you say finds its answering echo in my breast."
That evening, which had begun with tears, ended most joyfully. We had thought, until then, that we would defer our marriage until we had some visible means of maintaining ourselves; but now, prudential considerations were laid aside, and we resolved to become one by the laws of God and man, as we already were in heart, without delay, and thus prevent any future attempt to separate us.
I returned with a light heart to my host and hostess, and gave such an answer as might have been expected under the circumstances. I endeavored to make them comprehend the strength of our affection, and how impossible it would be to break off an engagement of such long standing as ours, and cemented by so much joint anxiety and suffering. Our mutual vows were to be binding until death, under all imaginable change of circumstances, with the exception only of apostasy on either side, of which now, thanks be to God, there was no longer any danger.
Mr. Downe was a man of good sense and kind feelings, and I verily believe he was relieved by the issue of the negotiation. It was otherwise with his sister; she was displeased and aggrieved, and made no secret that she was so.
We were married on the 8th February, 1686, at the Parish Church of Barnstaple, by Mr. Wood, the Rector.
My wife had lived at the house of Mr. Fraine, since the day after our landing, and he took upon himself the furnishing of a wedding-feast for us, to which he invited almost all the French Refugees in the neighborhood.
