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 risk not only of our stock, and the house above our heads, but
also of our precious lives; and after all was she worth it, although so
very beautiful? Upon which I told him, with indignation, that her beauty
was the least part of her goodness, and that I would thank him for his
opinion when I had requested it.

'Bravo, our John Ridd!' he answered; 'fools will be fools till the end
of the chapter; and I might be as big a one, if I were in thy shoes,
John. Nevertheless, in the name of God, don't let that helpless child go
about with a thing worth half the county on her.'

'She is worth all the county herself,' said I, 'and all England put
together; but she has nothing worth half a rick of hay upon her; for the
ring I gave her cost only,'--and here I stopped, for mother was looking,
and I never would tell her how much it had cost me; though she had tried
fifty times to find out.

'Tush, the ring!' Tom Faggus cried, with a contempt that moved me: 'I
would never have stopped a man for that. But the necklace, you great
oaf, the necklace is worth all your farm put together, and your Uncle
Ben's fortune to the back of it; ay, and all the town of Dulverton.'

'What,' said I, 'that common glass thing, which she has had from her
childhood!'

'Glass indeed! They are the finest brilliants ever I set eyes on; and I
have handled a good many.'

'Surely,' cried mother, now flushing as red as Tom's own c