"And have you ever spoken to her?" she asked. "Does she know what you feel? Forgive me for asking, Paul, but I've been thinking about all these things through the years, and wondering about them down there in the lonely farm. For I've had scarcely anyone to speak to. My one thought and my one comfort has been you! And I've said to myself, 'He's a young man now, and, like all young men, he'll love his lass.' I'm your mother, Paul, and I think I can see into your heart. Have you ever spoken to her?" It seemed as though all the barriers of the past were broken down. He had thought never to mention his secret to anyone, and yet he found himself speaking freely. "Scarcely, mother," he said. And then he told her of the times they had met, and of what he had said and what she had said. He told her, too, of the rumours concerning Ned Wilson, and of his hopes to make her his wife. "And he's your enemy, too?" Paul nodded, and his eyes became dark with anger as he thought of the past. "Paul," she said at length. "I live only for you now, only for you! Your enemies are my enemies; your friends are my friends! Those you love, I love; and those you hate, I hate! Whether you're right or whether you're wrong, my laddie, I love you!" "Who ever I love, mother," he said, "it makes no difference between me and you, and my home must ever be yours." "Ay, I dinna ken about that," she replied, lapsing into the speech of her girlhood. "But that doesna matter. Paul, I must see thy lass. You must find out when next she comes to Brunford, and I must see her. And you shall have her, too; whatever stands in the way must be removed!" A little later he kissed her good-night at her bedroom door, and her words seemed to him like a prophecy. CHAPTER IX THE SHADOWS OF COMING EVENTS