Summary

Portrait of R. D. Blackmore R. D. Blackmore Lorna Doone — 74. Driven beyond endurance… (1869)

Darling eyes, the sweetest eyes, the loveliest, the most loving eyes—the sound of a shot rang through the church, and those eyes were filled with death.
Lorna fell across my knees when I was going to kiss her, as the bridegroom is allowed to do, and encouraged, if he needs it; a flood of blood came out upon the yellow wood of the altar steps, and at my feet lay Lorna, trying to tell me some last message out of her faithful eyes. I lifted her up, and petted her, and coaxed her, but it was no good; the only sign of life remaining was a spirt of bright red blood.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of R. D. Blackmore R. D. Blackmore Lorna Doone — 74. Driven beyond endurance… (1869)

Carver Doone, with a vile oath, thrust spurs into his flagging horse, and laid one hand on a pistol-stock; whence I knew that his slung carbine had received no bullet since the one that had pierced Lorna. And a cry of triumph rose from the black depths of my heart. What cared I for pistols? I had no spurs, neither was my horse one to need the rowel; I rather held him in than urged him, for he was fresh as ever; and I knew that the black steed in front, if he breasted the steep ascent, where the track divided, must be in our reach at once.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of R. D. Blackmore R. D. Blackmore Lorna Doone — 74. Driven beyond endurance… (1869)

And there, about a furlong before me, rode a man on a great black horse, and I knew that the man was Carver Doone.
'Your life or mine,' I said to myself; 'as the will of God may be. But we two live not upon this earth, one more hour together.'
I knew the strength of this great man; and I knew that he was armed with a gun—if he had time to load again, after shooting my Lorna—or at any rate with pistols, and a horseman's sword as well. Nevertheless, I had no more doubt of killing the man before me than a cook has of spitting a headless fowl.
Source: Wikisource

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