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"'Tis a man's step," she whispered, "and he is coming into the cwrt," and, while she was still speaking, there came a firm, though not loud, knock at the door. Morva shrank a little under the big chimney, where she stood in the glow of the flaming furze; but Sara rose without hesitation, and going to the door, opened it wide. "Who is here so late at night?" she asked.
I would have said, 'Love me, Morva, more than all the others at Garthowen; love me more than all the world beside; love me as I love thee, girl! Nothing less will satisfy me; no riches, no worldly goods, no joy, no happiness will be of any account to me if I have not all thy love." "Stop, Gethin, stop," said Morva, turning away.
Morva approached her softly, and pressed a kiss on the marble forehead; she felt her hands, they were supple though cold; the eyes were closed and the breathing was scarcely perceptible, but Morva had no fear for Sara's safety.
Thee must not lose patience, 'merch i; by and by it will be bright weather again." "Do you think, mother?" "Yes, I think I am sure." "Well, indeed," said Morva, "you are always right; but oh! I am forgetting my cheese, I set the rennet before I came out. I must run." And away she went, and in a short time had reached the dairy, where the curdled milk was ready for her.
Good-night, Morva. Wilt come with me a little way? 'Twill be an excuse for another ten minutes under the stars, Sara." And they went out together, their shadows blending into one in the bright moonlight.
"Yes; it is easy from there to Castell On," said Sara; "the farm lane will lead you into the high road. But 'tis many, many years since I have been that way." The chat fell into quite a friendly and familiar groove, for Sara and Morva knew nothing of the restraints of class and conventionality. "I am so glad I came; but I must go now," said Gwenda, rising at last.
"Yes yes, 'machgen i, I know I have thee still. Go, Morva, post my letter at Pont-y-fro, though 'tis Sunday night. Good-night, girl, thou hast an old man's blessing. For what it is worth," he added, under his breath, as the girl passed out of one door, while Gwilym and Ann entered at the other.
Morva was tying Gwil's cap on when they entered, and could no longer avoid the meeting; but if Gwilym had expected a rapturous greeting, he was disappointed; for no shy schoolboy and girl ever met in a more undemonstrative manner than did these two, who for so long had hungered for each other's presence. "Hello, Morva!
'Twill be up there by and by when the light is gone, for it is always there, though the others move about." "Yes, 'tis the North Star, and the English have a saying, 'As true as the North Star' that's what thou must be to me, Morva." "Yes, indeed. The English are very wise people. But after all, Will, I must laugh when I think of a clergyman marrying a shepherdess. Oh!
"Brooms or no brooms, I am going to catch her up," and coming abreast other, he laid his hand on the bunches of blooming heather. "Morva," he said, bending round her purple burden, "where art here, lassie? Thee art buried in flowers! Come, loosen thy cords, and hoist them upon my shoulder." And as the girl looked at him from under the brooms, his voice changed, the brusque sailor manner softened.
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