I wouldn't be here, only I was afraid
I had not fastened the new calf up safely and--and--"

And they looked at each other and laughed.

"Well, now, 'tis no use telling stories about it," said Gethin; "I will
confess, Morva, I came here to look for thee; but I can't expect thee
to say the same--or didst expect to see me, too, lass? Say yes, now,
da chi!" [1]

Morva hung her head, but answered mischievously:

"Well, if I did, I won't tell tales about myself, whatever; but,
indeed, I mustn't stop long. Mother will be waiting for me."

"She will guess where thou art, and I cannot let thee go, lass. Dost
remember the last time we were here?"

"Yes--yes, I remember."

"Dost remember I told thee what I would say if I were Will? Wilt
listen to me now, lass, though I am only Gethin?"

Is it needful to tell that she did stay long--that Sara did guess where
she was; and that there, in the moonlight, with the sea breeze
whispering its own love messages in their ears, the words were spoken
for which each had been thirsting ever since they had met there last?

* * * * * *

In the early sunrise of the next morning Ebben Owens, too, was crossing
the moor. He wanted to tell Sara of the happiness which his son's
return had brought him, and to thank her for her share in bringing it
to pass. He wanted, too, to tell her of the sorrow and repentance
which filled his heart, and the deep gratitude he felt for all she had
done for him.

She was already in her garden attending to her bees.

"Sara, woman," said the old man, standing straight before her with
outstretched hands.

"Dear, dear, Ebben Owens, so early coming to see me! Sit thee down,
then, here in the sun," and she placed her hand in his, endeavouring to
draw him down beside her; but he resisted her gentle pressure and,
still standing, bent his head like a guilty child.

"No, no," he said, with a tremble in his voice. "Tell me first, can'st
forgive me my shameful sin? Everybody is forgiving me too easy, much
too easy, I know. 'Tis only one will be always remembering, and that
is me."

"I am not surprised at that, and I am glad to hear those words from
thee," said Sara, "but my forgiveness, Ebben bach, is as full and free
as I believe thy repentance is deep."

And gradually the old man ceased to resist her gentle persuasions, and,
sitting down beside her, the bees humming round them, and the sun
rising higher and higher in t