quietly,--

'The letter is in the little cupboard, near the head of Lady Lorna's
bed, where she used to keep the diamond necklace, which we contrived to
get stolen.'

Without another word I rushed (so that every board in the house shook)
up to my lost Lorna's room, and tore the little wall-niche open and
espied my treasure. It was as simple, and as homely, and loving, as even
I could wish. Part of it ran as follows,--the other parts it behoves me
not to open out to strangers:--'My own love, and sometime lord,--Take it
not amiss of me, that even without farewell, I go; for I cannot persuade
the men to wait, your return being doubtful. My great-uncle, some grand
lord, is awaiting me at Dunster, having fear of venturing too near this
Exmoor country. I, who have been so lawless always, and the child of
outlaws, am now to atone for this, it seems, by living in a court of
law, and under special surveillance (as they call it, I believe) of
His Majesty's Court of Chancery. My uncle is appointed my guardian and
master; and I must live beneath his care, until I am twenty-one years
old. To me this appears a dreadful thing, and very unjust, and cruel;
for why should I lose my freedom, through heritage of land and gold? I
offered to abandon all if they would only let me go; I went down on my
knees to them, and said I wanted titles not, neither land, nor money;
only to stay where I was, where first I had known happiness. But they
only laughed and called me "child," and said I must talk of that to the
King's High Chancellor. Their orders they had, and must obey them; and
Master Stickles was ordered too, to help as the King's Commissioner. And
then, although it pierced my heart not to say one "goodbye, John," I
was glad upon the whole that you were not here to dispute it. For I am
almost certain that you would not, without force to yourself, have let
your Lorna go to people who never, never can care for her.'

Here my darling had wept again, by the tokens on the paper; and then
there followed some sweet words, too sweet for me to chatter them.
But she finished with these noble lines, which (being common to all
humanity, in a case of steadfast love) I do no harm, but rather help all
true love by repeating. 'Of one thing rest you well assured--and I do
hope that it may prove of service to your rest, love, else would my own
be broken--no difference of rank, or fortune, or of life itself, shall
ever make me swerve from truth to you. We