black niche of the
rock, where the fall of the water began, lest the sweet singer (espying
me) should be alarmed, and flee away. But presently I ventured to look
forth where a bush was; and then I beheld the loveliest sight--one
glimpse of which was enough to make me kneel in the coldest water.

By the side of the stream she was coming to me, even among the
primroses, as if she loved them all; and every flower looked the
brighter, as her eyes were on them, I could not see what her face was,
my heart so awoke and trembled; only that her hair was flowing from
a wreath of white violets, and the grace of her coming was like the
appearance of the first wind-flower. The pale gleam over the western
cliffs threw a shadow of light behind her, as if the sun were lingering.
Never do I see that light from the closing of the west, even in these my
aged days, without thinking of her. Ah me, if it comes to that, what do
I see of earth or heaven, without thinking of her?

The tremulous thrill of her song was hanging on her open lips; and she
glanced around, as if the birds were accustomed to make answer. To me it
was a thing of terror to behold such beauty, and feel myself the while
to be so very low and common. But scarcely knowing what I did, as if
a rope were drawing me, I came from the dark mouth of the chasm; and
stood, afraid to look at her.

She was turning to fly, not knowing me, and frightened, perhaps, at
my stature, when I fell on the grass (as I fell before her seven years
agone that day), and I just said, "Lorna Doone!"

She knew me at once, from my manner and ways, and a smile broke through
her trembling, as sunshine comes through aspen-leaves; and being so
clever, she saw, of course, that she needed not to fear me.

"Oh, indeed," she cried, with a feint of anger (because she had shown
her cowardice, and yet in her heart she was laughing); "oh, if you
please, who are you, sir, and how do you know my name?"

"I am John Ridd," I answered; "the boy who gave you those beautiful
fish, when you were only a little thing, seven years ago to-day."

"Yes, the poor boy who was frightened so, and obliged to hide here in
the water."

"And do you remember how kind you were, and saved my life by your
quickness, and went away riding upon a great man's shoulder, as if you
had never seen me, and yet looked back through the willow-trees?"

"Oh, yes, I remember everything; because it was so rare to see any
except--I mean because I