ch for any mark or signal. And sure enough at
last I saw (when it was too late to see) that the white stone had been
covered over with a cloth or mantle,--the sign that something had arisen
to make Lorna want me. For a moment I stood amazed at my evil fortune;
that I should be too late, in the very thing of all things on which my
heart was set! Then after eyeing sorrowfully every crick and cranny to
be sure that not a single flutter of my love was visible, off I set,
with small respect either for my knees or neck, to make the round of the
outer cliffs, and come up my old access.

Nothing could stop me; it was not long, although to me it seemed an
age, before I stood in the niche of rock at the head of the slippery
watercourse, and gazed into the quiet glen, where my foolish heart was
dwelling. Notwithstanding doubts of right, notwithstanding sense of
duty, and despite all manly striving, and the great love of my home,
there my heart was ever dwelling, knowing what a fool it was, and
content to know it.

Many birds came twittering round me in the gold of August; many trees
showed twinkling beauty, as the sun went lower; and the lines of water
fell, from wrinkles into dimples. Little heeding, there I crouched;
though with sense of everything that afterwards should move me, like a
picture or a dream; and everything went by me softly, while my heart was
gazing.

At last, a little figure came, not insignificant (I mean), but looking
very light and slender in the moving shadows, gently here and softly
there, as if vague of purpose, with a gloss of tender movement, in and
out the wealth of trees, and liberty of the meadow. Who was I to crouch,
or doubt, or look at her from a distance; what matter if they killed me
now, and one tear came to bury me? Therefore I rushed out at once, as if
shot-guns were unknown yet; not from any real courage, but from prisoned
love burst forth.

I know not whether my own Lorna was afraid of what I looked, or what I
might say to her, or of her own thoughts of me; all I know is that she
looked frightened, when I hoped for gladness. Perhaps the power of my
joy was more than maiden liked to own, or in any way to answer to; and
to tell the truth, it seemed as if I might now forget myself; while she
would take good care of it. This makes a man grow thoughtful; unless, as
some low fellows do, he believe all women hypocrites.

Therefore I went slowly towards her, taken back in my impulse; and said