The upshot of it all was this, that as no Lorna came to me, except in
dreams or fancy, and as my life was not worth living without constant
sign of her, forth I must again to find her, and say more than a man can
tell. Therefore, without waiting longer for the moving of the spring,
dressed I was in grand attire (so far as I had gotten it), and thinking
my appearance good, although with doubts about it (being forced to
dress in the hay-tallat), round the corner of the wood-stack went I very
knowingly--for Lizzie's eyes were wondrous sharp--and then I was sure of
meeting none who would care or dare to speak of me.
It lay upon my conscience often that I had not made dear Annie secret to
this history; although in all things I could trust her, and she loved me
like a lamb. Many and many a time I tried, and more than once began the
thing; but there came a dryness in my throat, and a knocking under the
roof of my mouth, and a longing to put it off again, as perhaps might be
the wisest. And then I would remember too that I had no right to speak
of Lorna as if she were common property.
This time I longed to take my gun, and was half resolved to do so;
because it seemed so hard a thing to be shot at and have no chance of
shooting; but when I came to remember the steepness and the slippery
nature of the waterslide, there seemed but little likelihood of keeping
dry the powder. Therefore I was armed with nothing but a good stout
holly staff, seasoned well for many a winter in our back-kitchen
chimney.
Although my heart was leaping high with the prospect of some adventure,
and the fear of meeting Lorna, I could not but be gladdened by the
softness of the weather, and the welcome way of everything. There was
that power all round, that power and that goodness, which make us come,
as it were, outside our bodily selves, to share them. Over and beside us
breathes the joy of hope and promise; under foot are troubles past; in
the distance bowering newness tempts us ever forward. We quicken with
largesse of life, and spring with vivid mystery.
And, in good sooth, I had to spring, and no mystery about it, ere ever I
got to the top of the rift leading into Doone-glade. For the stream was
rushing down in strength, and raving at every corner; a mort of rain
having fallen last night and no wind come to wipe it. However, I reached
the head ere dark with more difficulty than danger, and sat in a place
which comforted my back and legs desirably.
Hereupon I grew so happy at being on dry land again, and come to look
for Lorna, with pretty trees around me, that what did I do but fall
asleep with the holly-stick in front of me, and my best coat sunk in a
bed of moss, with water and wood-sorrel. Mayhap I had not done so, nor
yet enjoyed the spring so much, if so be I had not taken three parts of
a gallon of cider at home, at Plover's Barrows, because of the lowness
and sinking ever since I met Mother Melldrum.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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