"Gethin Owens!" exclaimed the old woman, with delighted surprise. "My dear boy, come in!"
There was no light in the cottage except that of the fitful furze fire, so that when Gethin entered he exclaimed at the darkness,
"Sara fâch, let's have a light, for I am longing to see thee!"
Morva threw a fresh furze branch on the fire. The motion attracted Gethin's attention, and as the quick flame leaped up, the girl stood revealed. While Sara fumbled about for the candle the flame burnt out, and for a moment there was gloom again.
"Hast one of thy spirits here, or was it an angel I saw standing there by the fire?" said the newcomer; but when Sara had succeeded in lighting the candle, he saw it was no spirit, but a creature of flesh and blood who stood before him.
"No, no, 'tis only Morva," said Sara, dusting a chair and pushing it towards him. "Sit thee down, my boy, and let me have a good look at thee. Well! well! is it Gethin, indeed? this great big man, so tall and broad."
But Gethin's eyes were fixed upon the girl, who still stood astonished and bewildered under the chimney.
"Morva!" he said, "is this little Morva, who cried so bad after me when I went away, and whom I have longed to see so often? Come, shake hands, lass; dost remember thy old playmate?" and he advanced towards her with both hands outstretched.
Morva placed her own in his.
"Yes, indeed," she answered, "now in the light I can see 'tis thee,
Gethin—just the same and unaltered only—only—"