ered, with a soft smile at
me; "and when John does not choose to tell a thing, wild horses will not
pull it out of him."

"That is not at all like me, mother," I replied rather sadly; "you know
almost every word about Lorna, quite as well as I do."

"Almost every word, I believe, John; for you never tell a falsehood. But
the few unknown may be of all the most important to me."

To this I made no answer, for fear of going beyond the truth, or else
of making mischief. Not that I had, or wished to have, any mystery with
mother; neither was there in purest truth, any mystery in the matter;
to the utmost of my knowledge. And the only things that I had kept back,
solely for mother's comfort, were the death of poor Lord Alan Brandir
(if indeed he were dead) and the connection of Marwood de Whichehalse
with the dealings of the Doones, and the threats of Carver Doone against
my own prosperity; and, may be, one or two little things harrowing more
than edifying.

"Come, come," said Master Faggus, smiling very pleasantly, "you two
understand each other, if any two on earth do. Ah, if I had only had a
mother, how different I might have been!" And with that he sighed,
in the tone which always overcame mother upon that subject, and had
something to do with his getting Annie; and then he produced his pretty
box, full of rolled tobacco, and offered me one, as I now had joined the
goodly company of smokers. So I took it, and watched what he did with
his own, lest I might go wrong about mine.

But when our cylinders were both lighted, and I enjoying mine
wonderfully, and astonishing mother by my skill, Tom Faggus told us that
he was sure he had seen my Lorna's face before, many and many years ago,
when she was quite a little child, but he could not remember where it
was, or anything more about it at present; though he would try to do so
afterwards. He could not be mistaken, he said, for he had noticed her
eyes especially; and had never seen such eyes before, neither
again, until this day. I asked him if he had ever ventured into the
Doone-valley; but he shook his head, and replied that he valued his life
a deal too much for that. Then we put it to him, whether anything might
assist his memory; but he said that he knew not of aught to do so,
unless it were another glass of schnapps.

This being provided, he grew very wise, and told us clearly and candidly
that we were both very foolish. For he said that we were keeping Lorna,
at the