Stiven 'Storrom' was there as usual, and in the early dawn, when there was just a streak of light in the angry sky, he shouted out that he had found something, and we all ran towards him, and there, tied safely to a hencoop, lay a tiny baby, wet and sodden, but still alive.

It was thee, child, so wasn't I right to call thee Morforwyn ?[1] though indeed we soon shortened it to Morva.
When I saw thee I knew at once 'twas thy mother who had come to me here, and had led me down to the shore, and I begged them to give me the baby.

'There is a reason,' I said, but I did not tell them what it was.

What was the good, Morva?
They would not understand.

They would only jeer at me as they do, and call me Sara ''spridion.'[2] Well, let them, I am richer than they, oh! ten thousand times, and I would not change my life here on the lonely moor, and the visions I have here, for any riches they could offer me." "No, indeed, and it is a happy home for me, too, though I don't see your visions; but then you tell me about them, and it teaches me a great deal.