Johnny is enough for me; and Master John for the working men.' Now though my mother was so willing that I should go to London, expecting great promotion and high glory for me, I myself was deeply gone into the pit of sorrow.

For what would Lorna think of me?
Here was the long month just expired, after worlds of waiting; there would be her lovely self, peeping softly down the glen, and fearing to encourage me; yet there would be nobody else, and what an insult to her! Dwelling upon this, and seeing no chance of escape from it, I could not find one wink of sleep; though Jeremy Stickles (who slept close by) snored loud enough to spare me some.

For I felt myself to be, as it were, in a place of some importance; in a situation of trust, I may say; and bound not to depart from it.

For who could tell what the King might have to say to me about the Doones--and I felt that they were at the bottom of this strange appearance--or what His Majesty might think, if after receiving a message from him (trusty under so many seals) I were to violate his faith in me as a churchwarden's son, and falsely spread his words abroad?
Perhaps I was not wise in building such a wall of scruples.
Nevertheless, all that was there, and weighed upon me heavily.

And at last I made up my mind to this, that even Lorna must not know the reason of my going, neither anything about it; but that she might know I was gone a long way from home, and perhaps be sorry for it.