“‘Come on,’ she said, almost breathlessly; ‘come on; that’s the man my father wants me to marry, but _I’ll die first_!’ We walked fast, but she took, as I thought, the wrong turning—I told her so, but she looked up in my face, and smiled. It was a narrow court, and at the far end, a smith’s forge. I heard the bang of the hammer, and saw the light, all in a glow, and a thousand sparkles like falling stars! Mary got under the shadow of the houses—she crept on, the hammer going, the fire glowing, the sparkles falling all the time, and the shadow as of a giant, forging the red bar, as if the hammer was a wand. Well, she avoided the door, but drew me on to a slit in the window, still keeping in the shadow—‘that’s him,’ she whispered. Aunt, dear, the sweetheart that mite of a little beauty had set her love on, was—just there and then—a rale giant! He looked strong enough to fling a thunderbolt, and active enough to make a play-fellow of the lightning. When he stopped, and threw back his hair, I thought I had never seen so noble a head, but his face looked pale in the flashing light. Mary never spoke but the one word, she never sighed, nor signed to him in any way, yet he wiped his brow, pulled down his sleeves, and came to the window. “‘Mary, Mary,’ he whispered, and his voice was as soft as the coo of a wood-quest.[23] ‘Speak, Mary, I know you are there, it’s no use hiding from me, I know it as well as if my eyes were looking into yours, and as if you had told me so.’ “‘I am here, Philip,’ she said. ‘My friend was with me, and as you were not at the Priest’s, I thought you had something to do particular.’ “‘Yes, Mary,’ he answered; ‘but _that_ did not keep me. Your father came here to-night; he gave me clearly to understand, and without civility, he did not wish me to continue to keep your company; he said, your mind, as well as his own, turned another way.’ “‘And you believed him?’ “Her voice was like the murmur of a young bird in its nest. “‘I believed my own eyes,’ he answered, folding his great arms over his chest, his eyes glaring in his dusky face like coals of fire. ‘I went to the Priest’s door, and saw that clean, done-up youth, with his blue tie round his throat, and his boyish hands, only fit to finger a yard measure, scenting the place with his white pocket-handkerchief. O, Mary, fancy my hands dangling a scented handkerchief!’ and he dashed them passionately forward. ‘When you did change,’ he added, ‘you might have chosen a man—not a monkey.’ “‘And you misdoubted me,’ she said, standing firm and straight in her pride. ‘Well, then, Philip, I’ll just say good-bye at once;’ and then she struggled and struggled to untwist something from her neck, and flung it right in through the window. The fire, which had been flickering and flickering, flamed up, and there, lying on the black floor, shone a little golden locket, and a broken velvet.