'It was more almost than dusk, down below the tree-leaves, and I was
eager to go through, and be again beyond it. For the gray dark hung
around me, scarcely showing shadow; and the little light that glimmered
seemed to come up from the ground. For the earth was strown with the
winter-spread and coil of last year's foliage, the lichened claws
of chalky twigs, and the numberless decay which gives a light in its
decaying. I, for my part, hastened shyly, ready to draw back and run
from hare, or rabbit, or small field-mouse.
'At a sudden turn of the narrow path, where it stopped again to the
river, a man leaped out from behind a tree, and stopped me, and seized
hold of me. I tried to shriek, but my voice was still; I could only hear
my heart.
'“Now, Cousin Lorna, my good cousin,” he said, with ease and calmness;
“your voice is very sweet, no doubt, from all that I can see of you. But
I pray you keep it still, unless you would give to dusty death your very
best cousin and trusty guardian, Alan Brandir of Loch Awe.”
'“You my guardian!” I said, for the idea was too ludicrous; and
ludicrous things always strike me first, through some fault of nature.
'“I have in truth that honour, madam,” he answered, with a sweeping bow;
“unless I err in taking you for Mistress Lorna Doone.”
'“You have not mistaken me. My name is Lorna Doone.”
'He looked at me, with gravity, and was inclined to make some claim to
closer consideration upon the score of kinship; but I shrunk back, and
only said, “Yes, my name is Lorna Doone.”
'“Then I am your faithful guardian, Alan Brandir of Loch Awe; called
Lord Alan Brandir, son of a worthy peer of Scotland. Now will you
confide in me?”
'“I confide in you!” I cried, looking at him with amazement; “why, you
are not older than I am!”
'“Yes I am, three years at least. You, my ward, are not sixteen. I, your
worshipful guardian, am almost nineteen years of age.”
'Upon hearing this I looked at him, for that seemed then a venerable
age; but the more I looked the more I doubted, although he was dressed
quite like a man. He led me in a courtly manner, stepping at his tallest
to an open place beside the water; where the light came as in channel,
and was made the most of by glancing waves and fair white stones.
'“Now am I to your liking, cousin?” he asked, when I had gazed at him,
until I was almost ashamed, except at such a stripling. “Does my Cousin
Lorna judge kindly of her guardian, and her nearest kinsman? In a word,
is our admiration mutual?”
'“Truly I know not,” I said; “but you seem good-natured, and to have no
harm in you. Do they trust you with a sword?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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