ts, or witches, but about two lovers who loved each other
above and beyond everything else in the world;--which is uncommon,
for most people love themselves in that way first, and someone else next.

These two lovers loved each other passionately and devotedly. They used
to meet in the Lovers' Cove, or Porthangwartha,--which means the same,--
and many a happy meeting they had, and well did everything go until they
told their friends. After that there was such a talk and such a stir, and
such hardness and misery, that the lovers never again knew what it was to
be happy. The parents said that they _should not_ love each other,--which
was foolish, for they could not prevent it; that they should never meet
and never marry, which was cruel, for this they could prevent, and did.
So the poor lovers led a life of utter wretchedness, for they were
persecuted sadly, and were breaking their hearts for each other.

At last their persecutors ended by driving the young man away.
He determined to go to the West Indies. Then the relations congratulated
themselves heartily that they had got their own way, and parted the lovers
for ever.

In spite of all their precautions, though, those two poor heart-broken
lovers managed to meet once more; and as it was to be their very last
sight of each other for they did not know how long, perhaps for ever,
it was a very, very sad parting indeed.

It was in the Lovers' Cove that they met, and there, under the frosty
light of the moon, they bade each other their sad good-byes, and while
they clung to each other for the last time, they made a solemn vow that,
living or dead, they would meet again in that same place at that same hour
of the same day three years hence.

So the young man sailed away, and the girl lived with her parents,
going about her duties quietly and patiently, and, in spite of her
sadness, with a look of hope in her eyes that increased and increased as
the weeks and months slipped by. Her parents noticed it, and told
themselves that she had forgotten the banished lover, and would soon learn
to care for one of those they approved of. When, though, she had refused
to listen to any of the others who came wooing her, they began to fear
that they were mistaken, and were puzzled to know what it was that was
driving the wistfulness from her face, and the languor from her step.

So the long years dragged to a close, and at last, as it was bound to do,
the end of the three years d