markedthepositionofthehousesandthebeautyofthevillage。Forthestream，inlieuofanystreet，passingbetweenthehouses，andaffordingperpetualchange，andtwinkling，andreflectionsmoreoverbyitssleepymurmursoothingallthedwellersthere，thisandthesnugnessoftheposition，walledwithrockandspreadwithherbage，madeitlook，inthequietmoonlight，likealittleparadise。Andtothinkofalltheinmatesthere，sleepingwithgoodconsciences，havingpliedtheirusefultradeofmakingothersworkforthem，enjoyinglifewithoutmuchlabour，yetwithgreatrenown。
MasterCharliewentdownthevillage，andIfollowedhimcarefully，keepingasmuchaspossibleintheshadowyplaces，andwatchingthewindowsofeveryhouse，lestanylightshouldbeburning。AsIpassedSirEnsor’shouse，myheartleapedup，forIspiedawindow，higherthantherestabovetheground，andwithafaintlightmoving。Thiscouldhardlyfailtobetheroomwhereinmydarlinglay；forherethatimpudentyoungfellowhadgazedwhilehewaswhistling。Andheremycouragegrewtenfold，andmyspiritfearednoevil——forlo，ifLornahadbeensurrenderedtothatscoundrel，Carver，shewouldnothavebeenathergrandfather’shouse，butinCarver’saccurseddwelling。
Warmwiththisidea，IhurriedafterCharleworthDoone，beingresolvednottoharmhimnow，unlessmyownliferequiredit。AndwhileIwatchedfrombehindatree，thedoorofthefarthesthousewasopened；andsureenoughitwasCarver’sself，whostoodbareheaded，andhalfundressedinthedoorway。Icouldseehisgreatblackchest，andarms，bythelightofthelamphebore。
’Whowantsmethistimeofnight？’hegrumbled，inadeepgruffvoice；’anyyoungscampprowlingafterthemaidsshallhavesorebonesforhistrouble。’
’Allthefairmaidsareforthee，arethey，MasterCarver？’Charlieanswered，laughing；’weyoungscampsmustbewell-contentwithcoarserstuffthanthouwouldsthave。’