at the Counsellor, this very
afternoon--but I must not keep you here--you are much too brave, John;
and I am much too selfish: there, what was that shadow?"

"Nothing more than a bat, darling, come to look for his sweetheart. I
will not stay long; you tremble so: and yet for that very reason, how
can I leave you, Lorna?"

"You must--you must," she answered; "I shall die if they hurt you. I
hear the old nurse moving. Grandfather is sure to send for me. Keep back
from the window."

However, it was only Gwenny Carfax, Lorna's little handmaid: my darling
brought her to the window and presented her to me, almost laughing
through her grief.

"Oh, I am so glad, John; Gwenny, I am so glad you came. I have wanted
long to introduce you to my 'young man,' as you call him. It is rather
dark, but you can see him. I wish you to know him again, Gwenny."

"Whoy!" cried Gwenny, with great amazement, standing on tiptoe to look
out, and staring as if she were weighing me: "her be bigger nor any
Doone! Heared as her have bate our Cornish champion awrastling. 'Twadn't
fair play nohow: no, no; don't tell me, 'twadn't fair play nohow."

"True enough, Gwenny," I answered her; for the play had been very unfair
indeed on the side of the Bodmin champion; "it was not a fair bout,
little maid; I am free to acknowledge that." By that answer, or rather
by the construction she put upon it, the heart of the Cornish girl was
won, more than by gold and silver.

"I shall knoo thee again, young man; no fear of that," she answered,
nodding with an air of patronage. "Now, missis, gae on coortin', and
I wall gae outside and watch for 'ee." Though expressed not over
delicately, this proposal arose, no doubt, from Gwenny's sense of
delicacy; and I was very thankful to her for taking her departure.

"She is the best little thing in the world," said Lorna, softly
laughing; "and the queerest, and the truest. Nothing will bribe her
against me. If she seems to be on the other side, never, never doubt
her. Now no more of your 'coortin', John! I love you far too well for
that. Yes, yes, ever so much! If you will take a mean advantage of me.
And as much as ever you like to imagine; and then you may double it,
after that. Only go, do go, good John; kind, dear, darling John; if you
love me, go."

"How can I go without settling anything?" I asked very sensibly. "How
shall I know of your danger now? Hit upon something; you are so quick.
Anything you can think o