CHAPTER XXXIII
AN EARLY MORNING CALL
Of course I was up the very next morning before the October sunrise, andaway through the wild and the woodland towards the Bagworthy water, atthe foot of the long cascade. The rising of the sun was noble in thecold and warmth of it; peeping down the spread of light, he raised hisshoulder heavily over the edge of grey mountain, and wavering length ofupland. Beneath his gaze the dew-fogs dipped, and crept to the hollowplaces; then stole away in line and column, holding skirts, and clingingsubtly at the sheltering corners, where rock hung over grass-land; whilethe brave lines of the hills came forth, one beyond other gliding.
Then the woods arose in folds, like drapery of awakened mountains,stately with a depth of awe, and memory of the tempests. Autumn's mellowhand was on them, as they owned already, touched with gold, and red,and olive; and their joy towards the sun was less to a bridegroom than afather.
Yet before the floating impress of the woods could clear itself,suddenly the gladsome light leaped over hill and valley, casting amber,blue, and purple, and a tint of rich red rose; according to the scenethey lit on, and the curtain flung around; yet all alike dispelling fearand the cloven hoof of darkness, all on the wings of hope advancing,and proclaiming, 'God is here.' Then life and joy sprang reassuredfrom every crouching hollow; every flower, and bud, and bird, had afluttering sense of them; and all the flashing of God's gaze merged intosoft beneficence.
So perhaps shall break upon us that eternal morning, when crag and chasmshall be no more, neither hill and valley, nor great unvintaged ocean;when glory shall not scare happiness, neither happiness envy glory;but all things shall arise and shine in the light of the Father'scountenance, because itself is risen.
Who maketh His sun to rise upon both the just and the unjust. And surelybut for the saving clause, Doone Glen had been in darkness. Now, as Istood with scanty breath--for few men could have won that climb--atthe top of the long defile, and the bottom of the mountain gorge all ofmyself, and the pain of it, and the cark of my discontent fell awayinto wonder and rapture. For I cannot help seeing things now and then,slow-witted as I have a right to be; and perhaps because it comes sorarely, the sight dwells with me like a picture.
The bar of rock, with the water-cleft breaking steeply through it, stoodbold and bare, and dark in shadow, grey with red gullies down it. Butthe sun was beginning to glisten over the comb of the eastern highland,and through an archway of the wood hung with old nests and ivy. Thelines of many a leaning tree were thrown, from the cliffs of theforeland, down upon the sparkling grass at the foot of the westerncrags. And through the dewy meadow's breast, fringed with shade, buttouched on one side with the sun-smile, ran the crystal water, curvingin its brightness like diverted hope.
On either bank, the blades of grass, making their last autumn growth,pricked their spears and crisped their tuftings with the pearly purity.The tenderness of their green appeared under the glaucous mantle; whilethat grey suffusion, which is the blush of green life, spread its damaskchastity. Even then my soul was lifted, worried though my mind was: whocan see such large kind doings, and not be ashamed of human grief?
Not only unashamed of grief, but much abashed with joy, was I, whenI saw my Lorna coming, purer than the morning dew, than the sun morebright and clear. That which made me love her so, that which lifted myheart to her, as the Spring wind lifts the clouds, was the gayness ofher nature, and its inborn playfulness. And yet all this with maidenshame, a conscious dream of things unknown, and a sense of fate aboutthem.
Down the valley still she came, not witting that I looked at her, havingceased (through my own misprison) to expect me yet awhile; or at leastshe told herself so. In the joy of awakened life and brightness ofthe morning, she had cast all care away, and seemed to float upon thesunrise, like a buoyant silver wave. Suddenly at sight of me, for Ileaped forth at once, in fear of seeming to watch her unawares, thebloom upon her cheeks was deepened, and the radiance of her eyes; andshe came to meet me gladly.
'At last then, you are come, John. I thought you had forgotten me. Icould not make you understand--they have kept me prisoner every evening:but come into my house; you are in danger here.'
Meanwhile I could not answer, being overcome with joy, but followedto her little grotto, where I had been twice before. I knew that thecrowning moment of my life was coming--that Lorna would own her love forme.
She made for awhile as if she dreamed not of the meaning of my gaze,but tried to speak of other things, faltering now and then, and mantlingwith a richer damask below her long eyelashes.
'This is not what I came to know,' I whispered very softly, 'you knowwhat I am come to ask.'
'If you are come on purpose to ask anything, why do you delay so?' Sheturned away very bravely, but I saw that her lips were trembling.
'I delay so long, because I fear; because my whole life hangs in balanceon a single word; because what I have near me now may never more be nearme after, though more than all the world, or than a thousand worlds,to me.' As I spoke these words of passion in a low soft voice, Lornatrembled more and more; but she made no answer, neither yet looked up atme.
'I have loved you long and long,' I pursued, being reckless now, 'whenyou were a little child, as a boy I worshipped you: then when I sawyou a comely girl, as a stripling I adored you: now that you are afull-grown maiden all the rest I do, and more--I love you more thantongue can tell, or heart can hold in silence. I have waited long andlong; and though I am so far below you I can wait no longer; but musthave my answer.'
'You have been very faithful, John,' she murmured to the fern and moss;'I suppose I must reward you.'
'That will not do for me,' I said; 'I will not have reluctant liking,nor assent for pity's sake; which only means endurance. I must have alllove, or none, I must have your heart of hearts; even as you have mine,Lorna.'
While I spoke, she glanced up shyly through her fluttering lashes,to prolong my doubt one moment, for her own delicious pride. Then sheopened wide upon me all the glorious depth and softness of her lovingeyes, and flung both arms around my neck, and answered with her heart onmine,--
'Darling, you have won it all. I shall never be my own again. I amyours, my own one, for ever and for ever.'
I am sure I know not what I did, or what I said thereafter, beingovercome with transport by her words and at her gaze. Only one thing Iremember, when she raised her bright lips to me, like a child, for me tokiss, such a smile of sweet temptation met me through her flowing hair,that I almost forgot my manners, giving her no time to breathe.
'That will do,' said Lorna gently, but violently blushing; 'for thepresent that will do, John. And now remember one thing, dear. All thekindness is to be on my side; and you are to be very distant, as behovesto a young maiden; except when I invite you. But you may kiss my hand,John; oh, yes, you may kiss my hand, you know. Ah to be sure! I hadforgotten; how very stupid of me!'
For by this time I had taken one sweet hand and gazed on it, with thepride of all the world to think that such a lovely thing was mine; andthen I slipped my little ring upon the wedding finger; and this timeLorna kept it, and looked with fondness on its beauty, and clung to mewith a flood of tears.
'Every time you cry,' said I, drawing her closer to me 'I shall considerit an invitation not to be too distant. There now, none shall make youweep. Darling, you shall sigh no more, but live in peace and happiness,with me to guard and cherish you: and who shall dare to vex you?' Butshe drew a long sad sigh, and looked at the ground with the great tearsrolling, and pressed one hand upon the trouble of her pure young breast.
'It can never, never be,' she murmured to herself alone: 'Who am I, todream of it? Something in my heart tells me it can be so never, never.'