gently. The house was of one
story only, as the others were, with pine-ends standing forth the stone,
and only two rough windows upon that western side of it, and perhaps
those two were Lorna's. The Doones had been their own builders, for no
one should know their ins and outs; and of course their work was clumsy.
As for their windows, they stole them mostly from the houses round
about. But though the window was not very close, I might have whispered
long enough before she would have answered me, frightened as she was, no
doubt, by many a rude overture. And I durst not speak aloud, because I
saw another watchman posted on the western cliff, and commanding all the
valley. And now this man (having no companion for drinking or for
gambling) espied me against the wall of the house, and advanced to the
brink, and challenged me.

"Who are you there? Answer. One, two, three and I fire at thee."

The nozzle of his gun was pointed full upon me, as I could see, with the
moonlight striking on the barrel; he was not more than fifty yards off,
and now he began to reckon. Being almost desperate about it, I began to
whistle, wondering how far I should get before I lost my windpipe; and
as luck would have it, my lips fell into that strange tune I had
practiced last; the one I had heard from Charlie. My mouth would hardly
frame the notes, being parched with terror; but to my surprise, the man
fell back, dropped his gun, and saluted. Oh, sweetest of all
sweet melodies!

That tune was Carver Doone's passport (as I heard long afterward), which
Charleworth Doone had imitated, for decoy of Lorna. The sentinel took me
for that vile Carver, who was like enough to be prowling there for
private talk with Lorna, but not very likely to shout forth his name, if
it might be avoided. The watchman, perceiving the danger, perhaps, of
intruding on Carver's privacy, not only retired along the cliff, but
withdrew himself to good distance.

Meanwhile he had done me the kindest service; for Lorna came to the
window at once to see what the cause of the shout was, and drew back the
curtain timidly. Then she opened the rough lattice, and then she watched
the cliff and trees, and then she sighed very sadly.

"O Lorna, don't you know me?" I whispered from the side, being afraid of
startling her by appearing over-suddenly.

Quick though she always was of thought, she knew me not from my whisper,
and was shutting the window hastily, when I caught it back and