e a service--the last I shall want
in the neighbourhood.' He managed to poise the ladder on his shoulder,
and moved forward.

'Are we going in through the window?' I asked, seeing him fix the ladder
against the school-house wall.

He said, 'Hush; keep a look-out.'

I saw him mount high. When he tapped at the window I remembered it was
Julia's; I heard her cry out inside. The window rose slowly. Heriot
spoke:

'I have come to say good-bye to you, Julia, dear girl: don't be afraid
of me.' She answered inaudibly to my ears. He begged her to come to him
at once, only once, and hear him and take his hand. She was timid; he
had her fingers first, then her whole arm, and she leaned over him.
'Julia, my sweet, dear girl,' he said; and she:

'Heriot, Walter, don't go--don't go; you do not care for me if you go.
Oh, don't go.'

'We've come to it,' said Heriot.

She asked why he was not in bed, and moaned on:

'Don't go.' I was speechless with wonder at the night and the scene.
They whispered; I saw their faces close together, and Heriot's arms
round her neck. 'Oh, Heriot, my darling, my Walter,' she said, crying, I
knew by the sound of her voice.

'Tell me you love me,' said Heriot.

'I do, I do, only don't go,' she answered.

'Will you love me faithfully?'

'I will; I do.'

'Say, "I love you, Walter."'

'I love you, Walter.'

'For ever.'

'For ever. Oh! what a morning for me. Do you smell my honeysuckle? Oh,
don't go away from me, Walter. Do you love me so?'

'I'd go through a regiment of sabres to get at you.'

'But smell the night air; how sweet! oh, how sweet! No, not kiss me, if
you are going to leave me; not kiss me, if you can be so cruel!'

'Do you dream of me in your bed?'

'Yes, every night.'

'God bless the bed!'

'Every night I dream of you. Oh! brave Heriot; dear, dear Walter, you
did not betray me; my father struck you, and you let him for my sake.
Every night I pray heaven to make you forgive him: I thought you would
hate me. I cried till I was glad you could not see me. Look at those two
little stars; no, they hurt me, I can't look at them ever again. But no,
you are not going; you want to frighten me. Do smell the flowers. Don't
make them poison to me. Oh, what a morning for me when you're lost! And
me, to look out on the night alone! No, no more kisses! Oh, yes, I will
kiss you, dear.'

Heriot said, 'Your mother was Irish, Julia.'

'Yes. She would have loved you.'

'I 've Iris