hen he came home in the evening to his supper
she feigned some excuse and was absent from the evening meal; but when
at last Will's return was despaired of, and Morva took her way round
the Cribserth towards home, Gethin, no longer to be baulked, followed
her with rapid steps, and caught her up just as she turned the rugged
edge of the ridge.

"Morva!" he called, and she turned at once and stood facing him in the
light of the full moon.

She bent her head a little and let her arms fall at her sides, standing
like a culprit before his accuser. The attitude pained Gethin, whose
whole being was overflowing with tenderness.

"Morva, lass! what is the matter? Where art going? Art running away
from _me_?"

The girl raised her eyes to his, and in a low but firm voice answered,
"Yes."

"Why? Why?" he asked, and taking her hands hastily he drew her away
from the path, and down to the shadow of a broom bush on the cliff side.

She remembered it was the very bush behind which she had met Will two
evenings before. For a moment they were silent, both feeling too
agitated to speak. Beyond the shadow of the bushes the world lay
silent in the mellow moonlight, a soft breathing stole up to them from
the heaving sea below, a whispering breeze played on their faces, and
through it all the insidious glamour of the dance, which had enchanted
the simple rustic girl, wove like a silver thread.

"Morva," he said at last, pressing the hand which he held in his, "thou
knowest well what I want to say. If I had learning like Will's now, I
would not be hunting for words like this, but indeed, lass, I am fair
doited with love of thee. Answer me, dost love me too? I think,
Morva," and he drew her closer, "I think thou dost not hate me?"

"Oh, no," she whispered, "but--but--" and she slowly endeavoured to
withdraw from his detaining grasp, "but, Gethin, I am promised to Will."

"What? What didst say, girl?" said Gethin, in an agitated voice.
"Thou hast promised to marry Will?"

There was a long pause of silence, during which the lapping of the
waves on the beach, the rustle of the leaves in the bushes, together
with their own fluttering breaths, were distinctly audible.

"Didst say that, Morva?"

"Yes, indeed, 'tis true," said the girl, in a low voice.

"But--but does Will love thee?"

"Yes, he loves me," answered Morva sadly, but steadily, "and I love
him, and I must listen to no other man, for I have promised him."

"Pro