come down, Lorna was
as calm and happy as an infant in its bed. She knew that I was with her;
and when I told her not to speak, she touched my hand in silence. Gwenny
was in a much greater fright, having never seen such a thing before,
neither knowing what it is to yield to pure love's confidence. I could
hardly keep her quiet, without making a noise myself. With my staff from
rock to rock, and my weight thrown backward, I broke the sledd's too
rapid way, and brought my grown love safely out, by the selfsame road
which first had led me to her girlish fancy, and my boyish slavery.

Unpursued, yet looking back as if some one must be after us, we skirted
round the black whirling pool, and gained the meadows beyond it. Here
there was hard collar work, the track being all uphill and rough; and
Gwenny wanted to jump out, to lighten the sledd and to push behind. But
I would not hear of it; because it was now so deadly cold, and I feared
that Lorna might get frozen, without having Gwenny to keep her warm. And
after all, it was the sweetest labour I had ever known in all my
life, to be sure that I was pulling Lorna, and pulling her to our own
farmhouse.

Gwenny's nose was touched with frost, before we had gone much farther,
because she would not keep it quiet and snug beneath the sealskin. And
here I had to stop in the moonlight (which was very dangerous) and rub
it with a clove of snow, as Eliza had taught me; and Gwenny scolding
all the time, as if myself had frozen it. Lorna was now so far oppressed
with all the troubles of the evening, and the joy that followed them, as
well as by the piercing cold and difficulty of breathing, that she lay
quite motionless, like fairest wax in the moonlight--when we stole a
glance at her, beneath the dark folds of the cloak; and I thought that
she was falling into the heavy snow-sleep, whence there is no awaking.

Therefore, I drew my traces tight, and set my whole strength to the
business; and we slipped along at a merry pace, although with many
joltings, which must have sent my darling out into the cold snowdrifts
but for the short strong arm of Gwenny. And so in about an hour's time,
in spite of many hindrances, we came home to the old courtyard, and all
the dogs saluted us. My heart was quivering, and my cheeks as hot as
the Doones' bonfire, with wondering both what Lorna would think of
our farm-yard, and what my mother would think of her. Upon the former
subject my anxiety was wasted