Eily I know it. Myles tould me—that’s why I’m hiding myself.
Father T What does she mean?
Myles [L.] She loves him still—that’s what she manes.
Father T Love the wretch who sought your life!
Eily Isn’t it his own? It isn’t his fault if his love couldn’t last as long as mine. I was a poor, mane creature—not up to him any way; but if he’d only said, “Eily, put the grave between us and make me happy,” sure I’d lain down, wid a big heart, in the loch.
Father T And you are willing to pass a life of seclusion that he may live in his guilty joy?
Eily If I was alive wouldn’t I be a shame to him an’ a ruin—ain’t I in his way? Heaven help me—why would I trouble him? Oh! he was in great pain o’ mind entirely when he let them put a hand on me—the poor darlin’.
Father T And you mean to let him believe you dead?
Eily Dead an’ gone: then, perhaps, his love for me will come back, and the thought of his poor, foolish little Eily that worshiped the ground he stood on, will fill his heart a while.
Father T And where will you go?