“Herein she sets me good example of a patience
and contentment hard for me to imitate. Oftentimes
I am vexed by things I cannot meddle with, yet which
cannot be kept from me, that I am at the point of flying
from this dreadful valley, and risking all that can
betide me in the unknown outer world. If it were
not for my grandfather, I would have done so long ago;
but I cannot bear that he should die with no gentle
hand to comfort him; and I fear to think of the conflict
that must ensue for the government, if there be a
disputed succession.
“Ah me! We are to be pitied greatly, rather
than condemned, by people whose things we have taken
from them; for I have read, and seem almost to understand
about it, that there are places on the earth where
gentle peace, and love of home, and knowledge of one’s
neighbours prevail, and are, with reason, looked for
as the usual state of things. There honest folk
may go to work in the glory of the sunrise, with hope
of coming home again quite safe in the quiet evening,
and finding all their children; and even in the darkness
they have no fear of lying down, and dropping off
to slumber, and hearken to the wind of night, not as
to an enemy trying to find entrance, but a friend
who comes to tell the value of their comfort.
“Of all this golden ease I hear, but never saw
the like of it; and, haply, I shall never do so, being
born to turbulence. Once, indeed, I had the offer
of escape, and kinsman’s aid, and high place
in the gay, bright world; and yet I was not tempted
much, or, at least, dared not to trust it. And
it ended very sadly, so dreadfully that I even shrink
from telling you about it; for that one terror changed
my life, in a moment, at a blow, from childhood and
from thoughts of play and commune with the flowers
and trees, to a sense of death and darkness, and a
heavy weight of earth. Be content now, Master
Ridd ask me nothing more about it, so your sleep be
sounder.”
But I, John Ridd, being young and new, and very fond
of hearing things to make my blood to tingle, had
no more of manners than to urge poor Lorna onwards,
hoping, perhaps, in depth of heart, that she might
have to hold by me, when the worst came to the worst
of it. Therefore she went on again.
[Illustration: 168.jpg Tailpiece]
CHAPTER XXI
LORNA ENDS HER STORY
[Illustration: 169.jpg Illustrated Capital]
“It is not a twelvemonth yet, although it seems
ten years agone, since I blew the downy globe to learn
the time of day, or set beneath my chin the veinings
of the varnished buttercup, or fired the fox-glove
cannonade, or made a captive of myself with dandelion
fetters; for then I had not very much to trouble me
in earnest, but went about, romancing gravely, playing
at bo-peep with fear, making for myself strong heroes
of gray rock or fir-tree, adding to my own importance,
as the children love to do.
