I had kissed her, although she was such a little girl, eight years old or thereabouts, she turned to the stream in a bashful manner, and began to watch the water, and rubbed one leg against the other.
I for my part, being vexed at her behaviour to me, took up all my things to go, and made a fuss about it, to let her know I was going. But she did not call me back at all, as I had made sure she would do; moreover, I knew that to try the descent was almost certain death to me, and it looked as dark as pitch; and so at the mouth I turned round again, and came back to her, and said "Lorna!"
"Oh, I thought you were gone," she answered; "why did you ever come here? Do you know what they would do to us, if they found you here with me?"
"Beat us, I daresay, very hard, or me at least. They could never beat you."
"No. They would kill us both outright, and bury us here by the water; and the water often tells me that I must come to that."
"But what should they kill me for?"
"Because you have found the way up here, and they never could believe it. Now, please to go; oh, please to go. They will kill us both in a moment. Yes, I like you very much"—for I was teasing her to say it—"very much indeed, and I will call you 'John Ridd' if you like; only please to go, John. And when your feet are well, you know, you can come and tell me how they are."
"But I tell you, Lorna, I like you very much
