Three Feathers. 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM BLACK, 
 
 Author of "Madcap Violet," "Macleod of Dare," "Yolande,' 
 
 "Strange Adventures of a Phaeton," "Shandon Bells," 
 
 etc., etc., etc. 
 
 New York : 
 JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY, 
 
 14 and 16 Vesey Street. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER. PAGE * 
 
 I. MASTER HARRY I 
 
 II. JIM CROW 8 
 
 III. RES ANGUSTVE DOMI 15 
 
 IV. THE LAST LOOK BACK 28 
 
 V. THROWING A FLY 39 
 
 VI. THE AMONG THE TAILORS 43 
 
 VII. SOME NEW EXPERIENCES 5 2 
 
 VIII. wenna's first triumph 57 
 
 IX. THE RING OF EVIL OMEN 62 
 
 X. THE SNARES OF LONDON 69 
 
 XI. THE TWO PICTURES 7^ 
 
 XII. THE CHAIN TIGHTENS 83 
 
 XIII. AN UNEXPECTED CONVERT 89 
 
 XIV. " SIE BAT SO SANFT, SO LIEBLICH " 93 
 
 . XV. A LEAVE-TAKING OF LOVERS 99 
 
 XVI. THE FAIR SPRING-TIME I07 
 
 XVII. ONLY A BASKET OF PRIMROSES 1 1 5 
 
 XVIII. CONFIDENCES 122 
 
 XIX. THE FIRST MESSAGE HOME 126 
 
 XX. TINTAGEL'S WALLS I3 2 
 
 XXI. CONFESSION H5 
 
 XXII. ON WINGS OF HOPE 1 5 2 
 
 XXIII. LOVE-MAKING AT LAND'S END 157 
 
 XXIV. THE CUT DIRECT 1 68 
 
 XXV. NOT THE LAST WORD 174 
 
 XXVI. A PERILOUS TRUCE 179 
 
 XXVII. FURTHER ENTANGLEMENTS 189 
 
 XXVIII. FAREWELL ! l 9 2 
 
 XXIX. MABYN DREAMS 201 
 
 XXX. FERN IN DIE WELT 211 
 
 XXXI. " BLUE IS THE SWEETEST " 2l8 
 
 XXXII. the exile's return 223 
 
 XXXIII. SOME OLD FRIENDS 233 
 
 25 
 
iv CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER. PAGE. 
 
 XXXIV. A DARK CONSPIRACY 245 
 
 XXXV. UNDER THE WHITE STARS 254 
 
 XXXVI. INTO CAPTIVITY 263 
 
 XXXVII. AN ANGRY INTERVIEW 2"JO 
 
 XXXVIII. THE OLD HALF-FORGOTTEN JOKE 276 
 
 XXIX. NEW AMBITIONS 282 
 
 XL. AN OLD LADY'S APOLOGY 291 
 
THREE FEATHERS 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 MASTER HARRY, 
 
 " You are a wicked boy, Harry," said a delightful old lady 
 of seventy, with pink cheeks, silvery hair, and bright eyes, 
 to a tall and handsome lad of twenty, " and you will break 
 your mothers heart. But it's the way of all you Trelyon«. 
 Good looks, bad temper, plenty of money, and the maddest 
 fashion of spending it — there you are, the whole of you. 
 Why won't you go into the house ? " 
 
 " It's a nice house to go into, ain't it ? " said the boy, with 
 a rude laugh. " Look at it ! " 
 
 It was, indeed, a nice house — a quaint, old-fashioned, 
 strongly-built place, that had withstood the western gales 
 for some hundred and fifty years. And it was set amid 
 beautiful trees, and it overlooked a picturesque little valley, 
 and from the garden terrace in front of it you could catch a 
 glimpse of a tiny harbor on the Cornish coast, with its line 
 of blue water passing out through the black rocks to the sea 
 beyond. 
 
 " And why shouldn't the blinds be down ? " said the old 
 lady. " It's the anniversary of your father's death." 
 
 "It's always the anniversary of somebody's death," her 
 grand-son said, impatiently flicking at a standard rose with his 
 riding-switch ; " and it's nothing but snivel, snivel, from 
 morning till night, with the droning of the organ in the 
 chapel, and burning of incense all about the place, and 
 everybody and everything dressed in black, and the whole 
 house haunted by parsons. The parsons about the neighbor- 
 hood ain't enough — they must come from all parts of the 
 country, and you run against 'em in the hall, and you knock 
 them over when you're riding out at the gate, and just when 
 you expect to get a pheasant or two at the place you know, out 
 jumps a brace of parsons that have been picking brambles." 
 
2 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 " Harry; -Harry, where do: you expect to go to, if you hate 
 the parsons so ? " the : ord lady said; but there was scarcely 
 that earnestness, of- reproof hi .her tone that ought to have 
 beeiV tht^re. .'- ' •'' Ahcl $$% itVthe- way of all you Trelyons. Did 
 I ever tell you how your grandfather hunted poor Mr. Pascoe 
 that winter night? Dear, dear, what a jealous man your 
 grandfather was at that time, to be sure ! And when I told 
 him that John Pascoe had been carrying stories to my father, 
 and how that he (your grandfather) was to be forbidden the 
 house, dear me, what a passion he was in ! He wouldn't 
 come near the house after that : but one night, as Mr. Pascoe 
 was walking home, your grandfather rode after him and over- 
 took him, and called out, ' Look here, sir ! you have been 
 telling lies about me. I respect your cloth, and I won't lay 
 a hand on you ; but, by the Lord, I will hunt you till there 
 isn't a rag on your back ! ' And sure enough he did ; and 
 when poor Mr. Pascoe understood what he meant he was 
 nearly out of his wits, and off he went over the fields, and 
 over the walls, and across the ditches, with your grandfather 
 after him, driving his horse at him when he stopped, and 
 only shouting with laughter in answer to his cries and pray- 
 ers. Dear, dear, what a to-do there was all over the country- 
 side after that; and your grandfather durstn't come near the 
 house — or he was too proud to come ; but we got married 
 for all that — oh yes ! we got married for all that." The old 
 lady laughed in her quiet way. 
 
 " You were too good for a parson, grandmother, I'll be 
 bound," said Master Harry Trelyon. "You are one of the 
 right sort, you are. If I could find any girl, now, like what 
 you were then, see if I wouldn't try to get her for a wife." 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " said the old lady, vastly pleased, and smiling 
 a little ; " there were two or three of your opinion at that 
 time, Harry. Many a time I feared they would be the death 
 of each other. And I never could have made up my mind, 
 I do believe, if your grandfather hadn't come in among 
 them to settle the question. It was all over with me then. 
 It's the way of you Trelyons ; you never give a poor girl a 
 chance. It isn't ask and have — it's come and take ; and so 
 a girl becomes a Trelyon before she knows where she is. 
 Dear, dear ? what a fine man your grandfather was, to be sure ; 
 and such a pleasant, frank, good-natured way as he had with 
 him. Nobody could say No twice to him. The girls were 
 all wild about him ; and the story there was about our mar- 
 riage ! Yes, indeed, I was mad about him too, only that he 
 was just as mad about me ; and that night of the ball, when 
 
MASTER HARRY. 3 
 
 my father was angry because I would not dance, and when 
 all the young men could not understand it, for how did they 
 know that your grandfather was out in the garden, and 
 asking nothing less than that I should run away with him 
 there and then to Gretna ? Why, the men of that time had 
 some spirit, lad, and the girls, too, I can tell you; and I 
 couldn't say No to him, and away we went just before day- 
 light, and I in my ball-dress, sure enough, and we never 
 stopped till we got to Exeter. And then the fight for fresh 
 horses, and of! again ; and your grandfather had such a way 
 with him, Harry, that the silliest of girls would have plucked 
 up her spirits ! And oh ! the money he scattered to get the 
 best of the horses at the posting-houses ; for, of course, we 
 knew that my father was close after us, and if he overtook us, 
 then a convent in France for me, and good-bye to George 
 Trelyon— " 
 
 " Well, grandmother, don't stop I " cried the lad before her. 
 He had heard the story a hundred times, but he could have 
 heard it another hundred times, merely to see the light that 
 lit up the beautiful old face. 
 
 "We didn't stop, you booby!" she said, mistaking his 
 remark; "stopping wasn't for George Trelyon. And oh! 
 that morning as we drove into Carlisle, and we looked back, 
 and there, sure enough, was my father's carriage a long way 
 off. Your grandfather swore, Harry — yes, he did ; and well 
 it might make a man swear. For our horses were dead beat, 
 and before we should have time to change my father would 
 be up to claim me. But there ! it was the luckiest thing that 
 ever happened to me, for who could have expected to find 
 old Lady MacGorman at the door of the hotel, just getting 
 into her carriage ; and when she saw me she stared, and I 
 was in such a fright I couldn't speak ; and she called out, 
 1 Good heavens, child, why did you run away in your ball- 
 dress ? And who's the man ? ' ' His name, madam,' said I, 
 ' is George Trelyon.' For by this time he was in the yard, 
 raging about horses. ' A nephew of the Admiral, isn't he ? ' 
 she says ; and I told her he was ; and then quick as lightning 
 what does she do but whip around into the yard, get hold of 
 your grandfather, my dear, and bundle both of us into her 
 own carriage ! Harry, my father's carriage was at the end of 
 the street, as I am a living woman. And just as we drove 
 off we heard that dear, good, kind old creature call out to the 
 people around, ' Five guineas apiece to you if you keep 
 back the old gentleman's carriage for an hour ! ' and such a 
 laughing as your grandfather had as we drove down the 
 
4 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 streets and over the bridge, and up the hill, and out the level 
 lanes. Dear, dear, I can see the country now. I can remem- 
 ber every hedge, and the two rivers we crossed, and the hills 
 up in the north ; and all the time your grandfather kept up 
 the laugh, for he saw I was frightened. And there we were 
 wedded, sure enough, and all in good time, for Lady Mac- 
 Gorman's guineas had saved us, so that we were actually 
 driving back again when we saw my father's carriage coming 
 along the road — at no great speed to be sure, for one of the 
 horses was lame and the other had cast a shoe — all the result 
 of that good old creature's money. And then I said to your 
 grandfather, ' What shall we do, George ? ' ' We shall have 
 to stand and deliver, Sue ! ' says he and with that he had the 
 horses pulled up, and we got out. And when my father came 
 up he got out, too, and George took me by the hand — there 
 was no more laughing now, I can tell you, for it was but natural 
 I should cry a bit — and he took off his hat, and led me forward 
 to my father. I don't know what he said, I was in such a 
 fright ; but I know that my father looked at him for a minute 
 — and George was standing rather abashed, perhaps, but 
 then so handsome he looked, and so good-natured ! — and then 
 my father burst into a roar of laughter, and came forward 
 and shook him by the hand ; and all that he would say then, 
 or at any other time to the day of his death, was only this — 
 1 By Jupiter, sir, that was a devilish good pair that took you 
 straight on end to Exeter ! ' " 
 
 "I scarcely remember my grandfather," the boy said; "but 
 he couldn't have been a handsomer man than my father, nor 
 a better man either. " 
 
 " I don't say that," the old lady observed, candidly. " Your 
 father was just such another. ' Like father, like son,' they 
 used to say when he was a boy. But then, you see, your 
 father would go and choose a wife for himself in spite of 
 everybody, just like all you Trelyons, and so — " 
 
 But she remembered, and checked herself. She began to 
 tell the lad in how far he. resembled his grandfather in appear- 
 ance, and he accepted these descriptions of his features and 
 figure in a heedless manner, as of one who had grown too 
 familiar with the fact of his being handsome to care about it. 
 Had not every one paid him compliments, more or less indi- 
 rect, from his cradle upward ! He was, indeed, all that the 
 old lady would have desired to see in a Trelyon — tall, square- 
 shouldered, clean-limbed, with dark gray eyes set under black 
 eyelashes, a somewhat aquiline nose, proud and well-cut lips, 
 a handsome forehead, and a complexion which might have 
 
MASTER HARRY. 5 
 
 been pale but for its having been bronzed by constant expos- 
 ure to sun and weather. There was something very winning 
 about his face, when he chose to be winning ; and when he 
 laughed, the laughter, being quite honest and careless and 
 musical, was delightful to hear. With all these personal ad- 
 vantages, joined to a fairly quick intelligence and a ready 
 sympathy, Master Harry Trelyon ought to have been a univer- 
 sal favorite. So far from that being the case, a section of the 
 persons whom he met, and whom he shocked by his rudeness, 
 quickly dismissed him as an irreclaimable cub ; another sec- 
 tion, with whom he was on better terms, considered him a 
 bad-tempered lad, shook their heads in a humorous fashion 
 over his mother's trials, and were inclined to keep out of his 
 way ; while the best of his friends endeavored to throw the 
 blame of his faults on his bringing up, and maintained that 
 he had many good qualities if only they had been properly 
 developed. The only thing certain about these various criti- 
 cisms was that they did not concern very much the subject 
 of them. 
 
 " And if I am like my grandfather," he said, good-naturedly, 
 to the old lady, who was seated in a garden-chair, " why don't 
 you get me a wife such as he had ? " 
 
 "You? A wife ? " she repeated, indignantly; remember- 
 ing that, after all, to praise the good looks and excuse the 
 hot-headedness of the Trelyons was not precisely the teaching 
 this young man needed. " You take a wife ? Why, what 
 girl would have you ? You are a mere booby. You can 
 scarcely write your name. George Trelyon was a gentleman, 
 sir. He could converse in six languages — " 
 
 " And swear considerably in one, I've heard," the lad said, 
 with an impertinent laugh. 
 
 " You take a wife ? I believe the stable-boys are better 
 educated than you are in manners, as well as in learning. 
 All you are fit for is to become a horse-breaker to a cavalry 
 regiment, or a game-keeper ; and I do believe it is that old 
 wretch, Pentecost Luke, who has ruined you. Oh ! I heard 
 how Master Harry used to defy his governess, and would say 
 nothing to her for days together, but — 
 
 1 As I was going to St. Ives, 
 I met fifty old wives.' 
 
 Then old Luke had to be brought in, and Luke's cure for 
 stubbornness was to give the brat a gun and teach 'him to 
 shoot starlings. Oh ! I know the whole story, my son, though 
 I wasn't in Cornwall at the time. And then Master Harry 
 
6 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 must be be sent to school ; but two days afterwards Master 
 Harry is discovered at the edge of a wood, coolly seated with 
 a gun in his hand, waiting for his ferrets to drive out the rab- 
 bits. Then Master Harry is furnished with a private tutor; 
 but a parcel of gunpowder is found below the gentleman's 
 chair, with the heads of several lucifer matches lying about. 
 So Master Harry is allowed to have his own way ; and his 
 master and preceptor is a lying old game-keeper, and Master 
 Harry can't read a page out of a book, but he can snare birds, 
 and stuff fish, and catch butterflies, and go cliff-hunting on a 
 horse that is bound to break his neck some day. Why, sir, 
 what do think a girl would have to say to you if you married 
 her ? She would expect you to take her into society ; she 
 would expect you to be agreeable in your manners, and be 
 able to talk to people. Do you think she would care about 
 your cunning ways of catching birds, as if you were a cat or 
 a sparrow-hawk ? " 
 
 He only flicked at the rose, and laughed ; lecturing had 
 but little effect on him. 
 
 " Do you think a girl would come to a house like this — one 
 half of it filled with clogs and birds and squirrels, and what 
 not, the other furnished like a chapel in a cemetery ? A 
 combination of a church and a menagerie, that's what I call 
 it." 
 
 " Grandmother," he said, " these parsons have been stuffing 
 your head full of nonsense about me.'* 
 
 " Have they ? " said the old lady, sharply, and eying him 
 keenly. " Are you sure it is all nonsense ? You talk of marry- 
 ing — and you know that no girl of your station in life would 
 look at you. What about that public-house in the village, 
 and the two girls there, and your constant visits ? " 
 
 He turned around with a quick look of anger in his face. 
 
 " Who told you such infamous stories ? I suppose one of 
 the cringing, sneaking, white-livered — Bah ) " 
 
 He switched the head off the rose and strode away, saying, 
 as he went — 
 
 " Grandmother, you mustn't stay here long. The air of the 
 place affects even you. Another week of it, and you'll be as 
 mean as the rest of them." 
 
 But he was in a very bad temper, despite his careless gait. 
 There was a scowl on the handsome and boyish face that was 
 not pleasant to see. He walked around to the stables, kicked 
 about the yard while his horse was being saddled, and then 
 rode out of the grounds and along the highway, until he went 
 clattering down the steep and stony main street of Eglosilyan. 
 
MASTER HARRY. 7 
 
 The children knew well this black horse ; they had a super- 
 stitious fear of him, and they used to scurry into the cottages 
 when his wild rider, who seldom tightened rein, rode down 
 the precipitous thoroughfare. But just at this moment, when 
 young Trelyon was paying little heed as to where he was go- 
 ing, a small, white-haired bundle of humanity came running 
 out of a doorway, and stumbled, and fell right in the way of 
 the horse. The lad was a good rider, but all the pulling up 
 in the world could not prevent the forefeet of the horse, as they 
 were shot out into the stones, from rolling over that round 
 bundle of clothes. Trelyon leaped to the ground and caught 
 up the child, who stared at him with big, blue, frightened eyes. 
 
 " It's you, young Pentecost, is it ? And what the dickens 
 do you mean by trying to knock over my horse, eh ? " 
 
 The small boy was terrified, but quite obviously not hurt a 
 bit ; and his captor, leading the horse with one hand and af- 
 fixing the bridle to the door, carried him into the cottage. 
 "Well, Mother Luke," said young Trelyon, "I know you've 
 got too many children, but do you expect that I'm going to 
 put them out of the way for you ? " 
 
 She uttered a little scream, and caught at the boy. 
 
 " Oh 1 there's no harm done ; but I suppose I must give 
 him a couple of sovereigns because he nearly frightened me out 
 of my wits. Poor little kid ! It's hard on him that you 
 should have given him such a name. I suppose you thought 
 it was Cornish because it begins with Pen" 
 
 " You knaw 'twere his vather's name, Maaster Harry," said 
 Mrs. Luke, smiling, as she saw that the child's chubby fingers 
 were being closed over two bright gold pieces. 
 
 Just at that moment Master Harry, his eyes having got ac- 
 customed to the twilight of the kitchen, perceived that among 
 the little crowd of children, at the fireside end, a young lady 
 was sitting. She was an insignificant little person, with dark 
 eyes ; she had a slate in her hand ; the children were around 
 her in a circle. 
 
 "Oh, I beg your pardon, Miss Wenna ! " the young man 
 said, removing his hat quickly, and blushing all over his 
 handsome face. " I did not see you in the dark. Is your 
 father at the inn ? — I was going to see him. I hope I haven't 
 frightened you." 
 
 " Yes, my father has come back from Plymouth," said the 
 young lady, quietly, and without rising. " And I think you 
 might be a little more careful in riding through the village, 
 Mr. Trelyon." 
 
8 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 " Good morning/' he said- " Take better care of Master 
 Pentecost, Mother Luke." And with that he went out and 
 got into the saddle again, and set off to ride down to the inn, 
 not quite so recklessly as heretofore. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 JIM CROW. 
 
 When Miss Wenna, or Morwenna, as her mother in a 
 freak of romanticism had called her, had finished her teach- 
 ing, and had inspected some fashioning of garments in which 
 Mrs. Luke was engaged, she put on her light shawl and her 
 hat, and went out into the fresh air. She was now standing 
 in the main street of Eglosilyan ; and there were houses right 
 down below her, and houses far above her, but a stranger 
 would have been puzzled to say where this odd little village 
 began and ended. For it was built in a straggling fashion on 
 the sides of two little ravines ; and the small stone cottages 
 were so curiously scattered among the trees, and the plots of 
 gardens were so curiously banked up with walls that were 
 smothered in wild flowers, that you could only decide which 
 was the main thoroughfare by the presence there of two grey- 
 stone chapels — one the Wesleyans' Ebenezer, the other the 
 Bible Christians'. The churches were far away on the 
 uplands, where they were seen like towers along the bleak 
 cliffs by the passing sailors. But perhaps Eglosilyan proper 
 ought to be considered as lying down in the hollow, where the 
 two ravines converged. For here was the chief inn ; and 
 here was the overshot flour-mill ; and here was the strange 
 little harbor, tortuous, narrow, and deep, into which one or 
 two heavy coasters came for slate, bringing with them timber 
 and coal. Eglosilyan is certainly a picturesque place ; but 
 one's difficulty is to get anything like a proper view of it. 
 The black and mighty cliff's at the mouth of the harbor, where 
 the Atlantic seethes and boils in the camiest weather, the 
 beautiful blue-green water under the rocks and along the 
 stone quays, the quaint bridge, and the mill, are pleasant to 
 look at ; but where is Eglosilyan ? Then if you go up one of 
 the ravines, and get among the old houses, with their tree- 
 fuchsias and hydrangeas and marigolds, and lumps of white 
 quartz in the quaint little gardens, you find yourself looking 
 down the chimneys of one portion of Eglosilyan, and looking 
 
JIM CROW. 9 
 
 up to the doorsteps of another — everywhere a confusion of 
 hewn rocks and natural terrace and stone walls, and bushes 
 and hart's-tongue fern. Some thought that the Trelyon Arms 
 should be considered the natural centre of Eglosilyan ; but 
 you could not see half a dozen houses from any of its win- 
 dows. Others would have given the post of honor to the 
 National School, which had been there since 1843 ; but it was 
 up in a by-street, and could only be approached by a flight of 
 steps cut in the slate wall that banked up the garden in 
 front of it. Others, for reasons which need not be mentioned, 
 held that the most important part of Eglosilyan was the 
 Napoleon Hotel — a humble little pot-house, frequented by the 
 workers in the slate-quarries, who came there to discuss the 
 affairs of the nation and hear the news. Anyhow, Eglosilyan 
 was a green, bright, rugged, and picturesque little place, 
 oftentimes wet with the western rains, and at all times fresh 
 and sweet with the moist breezes from the Atlantic. 
 
 Miss Wenna went neither down the street nor up the street, 
 but took a rough and narrow little path leading by some of 
 the cottages to the cliffs overlooking the sea. There was a 
 sound of music in the air ; and by and by she came in sight 
 of an elderly man, who, standing in an odd little donkey-cart, 
 and holding the reins in one hand, held with the other a cor- 
 nopean, which he played with great skill. No one in Eglosil- 
 yan could tell precisely whether Michael Jago had been 
 bugler to some regiment, or had acquired his knowledge of 
 the cornopean in a travelling show ; but everybody liked to 
 hear the cheerful sound, and came out to the cottage-door to 
 welcome him, as he went from village to village with his cart, 
 whether they wanted to buy suet or not. And now, as Miss 
 Wenna saw him approach, he was playing "The Girl I left 
 Behind Me," and as there was no one about to listen to him, 
 the pathos of certain parts, and the florid and skilful execu- 
 tion of others, showed that Mr. Jago had a true love for 
 music, and did not merely use it to advertise his wares. 
 
 " Good-morning to you, Mr. Jago/' said Miss Wenna, as 
 he came up. 
 
 " 'Marnin, Miss Rosewarne," he said, taking down his cor- 
 nopean. 
 
 "This is a narrow road for your cart." 
 
 " 'Tain't a very good way ; but bless you, me and my don- 
 key we're used to any zart of a road. I dii believe we could 
 go down to the bache, down the face of Black Cliff." 
 
 " Mr. Jago, I want to say something to you. If you are 
 dealing with old Mother Keam to-day, you'll give her a good 
 
io THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 extra bit, won't you ? And so with Mrs. Geswetherick, for 
 she has had no letter from her son now for three months. 
 And this will pay you, and you'll say nothing about it, you 
 know." 
 
 She put the coin in his hand — it was an arrangement of 
 old standing between the two. 
 
 " Well, yli be a good young lady : yaas, yii be," he said, as 
 he drove on ; and then she heard him announcing his arrival 
 to the people of Eglosilyan by playing, in a very elaborate 
 manner, " Love's Young Dream." 
 
 The solitary young lady who was taking her morning walk 
 now left this rugged-road, and found herself on the bleak and 
 high uplands of the coast. Over there was the sea — a fair 
 summer sea ; and down into the southwest stretched a tall 
 line of cliff, black, precipitous, and jagged, around the base 
 of which even this blue sea was churned into seething masses 
 of white. Close by was a church ; and the very gravestones 
 were propped up, so that they should withstand the force of 
 the gales that sweep over those windy plains. 
 
 She went across the uplands, and passed down to a narrow 
 neck of rock, which connected with the mainland a huge pro- 
 jecting promontory, on the summit of which was a square and 
 strongly-built tower. On both sides of this ledge of rock the 
 sea from below passed into narrow channels, and roared into 
 gigantic caves ; but when once you had ascended again to 
 the summit of the tall projecting cliff, the distance softened 
 the sound into a low continuous murmur, and the motion of 
 the waves beneath you was only visible in the presence of 
 that white foam where the black cliffs met the blue sea. 
 
 She went out pretty nearly to the verge of the cliff, where 
 the close, short, wind-swept sea-grass gave way to immense 
 and ragged masses of rock, descending sheer into the waves 
 below ; and here she sat down, and took out a book, and be- 
 gan to read. But her thoughts were busier than her eyes. 
 Her attention would stray away from the page before her to 
 the empty blue sea, where scarcely a sail was to be seen, and 
 to the far headlands lying under the white of the summer sky. 
 One of these headlands was Tintagel ; and close by were the 
 ruins of the great castle, where Uther Pen dragon kept his 
 state, where the mystic Arthur was born, where the brave 
 Sir Tristram went to see his true love, La Belle Isoulde. All 
 that world had vanished and gone into silence ; could any- 
 thing be more mute and still than these bare uplands out at 
 the end of the world, these voiceless cliffs, and the empty 
 circle of the sea ? The sun was hot on the rocks beneath 
 
JIM CROW. II 
 
 her, were the pink quartz lay incrusted among the slate ; but 
 there was scarcely the hum of an insect to break the stillness, 
 and the only sign of life about was the circling of one or two 
 sea-birds, so far below her that their cries could not be heard. 
 
 " Yes, it was a long time ago," the girl was thinking, as 
 the book lay unheeded on her knee, " A sort of mist covers 
 it now, and the knights seem great and tall men as you think 
 of them riding through the fog, almost in silence. But then 
 there were the brighter days, when the tournaments were held, 
 and the sun shone out, and the noble ladies wore rich colors, 
 and every one came to see how beautiful they were. And 
 how fine k must have been to have sat there, and have all 
 the knights ready to fight for you, and glad when you gave 
 them a bit of ribbon or a smile ! And in these days, too, it 
 must be a fine thing to be a noble lady, and beautiful and 
 tall, like a princess ; and to go among the poor people, put- 
 ting everything to rights, because you have lots of money, 
 and because the roughest of the men look up to you, 
 and think you a queen, and will do anything you ask. 
 What a happy life a grand and beautiful lady must have, 
 when she is tall and fair-haired, and sweet in her man- 
 ner ; and every one around her is pleased to serve her, and 
 she can do a kindness by merely saying a word to the poor 
 people ! But if you are only Jim Crow ! There's Mabyn, 
 now, she is everybody's favorite because she is so pretty ; 
 and whatever she does, that is always beautiful and graceful, 
 because she is so. Father never calls her Jim Crow. And 
 I ought to be jealous of her, for every one praises her, and 
 mere strangers ask for her photograph ; and Mr. Roscorla 
 always writes to her, and Mr. Trelyon stuffed those squirrels 
 for her, though he never offered to stuff squirrels for me. 
 But I cannot be jealous of Mabyn — I cannot even try. She 
 looks at you with her blue, soft eyes, and you fall in love 
 with her ; and that is the advantage of being handsome and 
 beautiful, for you can please every one, and make every one 
 like you, and confer favors on people all day long. But if 
 you are small and plain and dark — if your father calls you 
 Jim Crow — what can you do ? " 
 
 These despondent fancies did not seem to depress her 
 much. The gloom of them was certainly not visible on her 
 face, nor yet in the dark eyes, which had a strange and win- 
 ning earnestness in them. She pulled a bit of tormentil from 
 among the close warm grass on the rocks, and she hummed 
 a line or two of " Wapping Old Stairs." Then she turned to 
 
12 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 her book ; but by and by her eyes wandered away again, and 
 she fell to thinking. 
 
 " If you were a man, now," she was silently saying to her- 
 self, " that would be quite different. It would not matter 
 how ugly you were — for you could try to be brave or clever, 
 or a splendid rider or something of that kind — and nobody 
 would mind how ugly you were. But it's very hard to be a 
 woman and to be plain ; you feel as if you were good for 
 nothing, and had no business to live. They say that you 
 should cultivate the graces of the mind ; but it's only old 
 people who say that ; and perhaps you may not have any 
 mind to cultivate. How much better it would be to be pret- 
 ty while you are young, and leave the cultivation of the mind 
 for after-years ! and that is why I have to prevent mother 
 from scolding Mabyn for never reading a book. If I were 
 like Mabyn, I should be so occupied in giving people the 
 pleasure of looking at me and talking to me that I should have 
 no time for books. Mabyn is like a princess. And if she 
 were a grand lady, instead of being only an innkeeper's 
 daughter, what a lot of things she could do about Eglosilyan ! 
 She could go and persuade Mr. Roscorla, by the mere sweet- 
 ness of her manner, to be the less bitter in talking ; she 
 could go up to Mrs. Trelyon, and bring her out more among 
 her neighbors, and make the house pleasanter for her son ; 
 she could go to my father, and beg him to be a little more 
 considerate to mother when she is angry ; she might get some 
 influence over Mr. Trelyon himself, and make him less of a 
 petulant boy. Perhaps Mabyn may do some of these things 
 when she gets a little older. It ought to please her to try, at 
 all events ; and who can withstand her when she likes to be 
 affectionate and winning ? Not Jim Crow, anyway." 
 
 She heaved a sigh, not a very dismal one, and got up and 
 prepared to go home. She was humming carelessly to her- 
 self— 
 
 " Your Polly has never been false, she declares, 
 Since last time we parted at Wapping Old Stairs; " 
 
 she had got that length when she was startled into silence 
 
 by the sound of a horse's feet, and, turning quickly around, 
 found Mr. Trelyon galloping up the steep slope that reaches 
 across to the mainland. It was no pleasant place to ride 
 across, for a stumble of the animal's foot would have sent 
 horse and rider down into the gulfs below, where the blue- 
 green sea was surging in among the black rocks. 
 
JIM CROW. 13 
 
 " Oh ! how could you be so foolish as to do that ? " she cried. 
 " I beg of you to come down, Mr. Trelyon. I cannot — " 
 
 "Why, Dick is as sure-footed as I am," said the lad, his 
 handsome face flushing with the ride up from Eglosilyan. " I 
 thought I should find you here. There's no end of a row go- 
 ing on at the inn, Miss Wenna, and that's a fact. I fancied 
 I'd better come and tell you ; for there's no one can put things 
 straight like you, you know." 
 
 A quarrel between her father and her mother — it was of no 
 rare occurrence, and she was not much surprised. 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Trelyon," she said. " It is very kind of 
 you to have taken the trouble. I will go down at once." 
 
 But she was looking rather anxiously at him, as he turned 
 around his horse. 
 
 " Mr. Trelyon," she said, quickly, "would you oblige me 
 by getting down and leading your horse across until you reach 
 the path ? " 
 
 He was out of the saddle in a moment. 
 
 " I will walk down with you to Eglosilyan, if you like," he 
 said, carelessly. " You often come up here, don't you ? " 
 
 " Nearly every day. I always take a walk in the forenoon." 
 
 " Does Mabyn ever go with you ? " His companion noticed 
 that he always addressed her as Miss Wenna, whereas her 
 sister was simply Mabyn. 
 
 " Not often." 
 
 " I wonder she doesn't ride — I am sure she would look well 
 on horseback — don't you think so ? " 
 
 " Mabyn would look well anywhere," said the eldest sister, 
 with a smile. 
 
 " If she would like to try a lady's saddle on your father's 
 cob, I would send you one down from the Hall," the lad said. 
 " My mother never rides now. But perhaps I'd better speak 
 to your father about it. Oh ! by the way, he told me a capital 
 story this morning that he heard in coming from Plymouth to 
 Launceston in the train. Two farmers belonging to Laun- 
 ceston had got into a carriage the day before, and found in it 
 a parson, against whom they had a grudge. He didn't know 
 either of them by sight ; and so they pretended to be stran- 
 gers, and sat down opposite each other. One of them put up 
 the window ; the other put it down with a bang. The first 
 drew it up again, and said, ' I desire you to leave the window 
 alone, sir ! ' The other said, ' I mean to have that window 
 down, and if you touch it again I will throw you out if it.' 
 Meanwhile the parson at the other end of the carriage, who 
 was a little fellow and rather timid, had got into an agony of 
 
14 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 fright ; and at last, when the two men seemed about to seize 
 each other by the throat, he called out, ' For Heaven's sake, 
 gentlemen, do not quarrel ! Sir, I beg of you, I implore you, 
 as a clergyman I entreat you, to put up that knife ! ' And 
 then, of course, they both turned upon him like tigers, and 
 slanged him, and declared they would break his back over the 
 same window. Fancy the fright he was in ! " 
 
 The boy laughed merrily. 
 
 " Do you think that was a good joke ? " the girl beside him 
 asked, quietly. 
 
 He seemed a little embarrassed. 
 
 " Do you think it was a very manly and courageous thing 
 for two big farmers to frighten a small and timid clergyman ? 
 I think it was rather mean and cowardly. I see no joke in 
 it at all." 
 
 His face grew more and more red. 
 
 " I don't suppose they meant any harm," he said, curtly ; 
 "but you know we can't all be squaring every word and 
 look by the Prayer-book. And I suppose the parson him- 
 self, if he had known, would not have been so fearfully 
 serious but that he could have taken a joke like any one 
 else. By the way, this is the nearest road to Trevenna, 
 isn't it ? I have got to ride over there before the afternoon, 
 Miss Rosewarne ; so I shall bid you good-day." 
 
 He got on horseback again, and took off his cap to her, 
 and rode away. 
 
 " Good-day, Mr. Trelyon," she said, meekly. 
 
 And so she walked down to the inn by herself, and was 
 inclined to reproach herself for being so very serious, and for be- 
 ing unable to understand a joke like any one else. Yetshe was 
 not unhappy about it. It was a pity if Mr. Trelyon were annoyed 
 with her ; but, then, she had long ago taught herself to believe 
 that she could not easily please people, as Mabyn could ; and 
 she cheerfully accepted the fact. Sometimes, it is true, 
 she indulged in idle dreams of what she might do if she 
 were beautiful and rich and noble ; but she soon laughed 
 herself out of these foolish fancies, and they left no sting of 
 regret behind them. At this moment, as she walked down to 
 Eglosilyan, with the tune of " YVapping Old Stairs " rocking 
 itself to sleep in her head, and with her face brightened by 
 her brisk walk, there was neither disappointment nor envy 
 nor ambition in her mind. Not for her, indeed, were any 
 of those furious passions that shake and set afire the lives 
 of men and women : her lot was the calm and placid lot of 
 the unregarded, and with it she was well content. 
 
RES ANGUST^E DO MI. *5 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 RES ANGUSTjE DOMI. 
 
 When George Rosewarne, the father of this Miss Wenna, 
 lived in Eastern Devonshire, many folks thought him a 
 fortunate man. He was the land-steward of a large estate, 
 the owner of which lived in Paris, so that Rosewarne was 
 practically his own master ; he had a young and pretty wife, 
 desperately fond of him ; he had a couple of children and a 
 comfortable home. As for himself, he was a tall, reddish- 
 bearded, manly-looking fellow : the country folks called him 
 Handsome George as they saw him riding his rounds of a 
 morning ; and they thought it a pity Mrs. Rosewarne was 
 so often poorly, for she and her husband looked well to- 
 gether when they walked to church. 
 
 Handsome George did not seem much troubled by his 
 wife's various ailments; he would only give the curtest 
 answer when asked about her health. Yet he was not in 
 any distinct way a bad husband. He was a man vaguely 
 unwilling to act wrongly, but weak in staving off temptation ; 
 there was a sort of indolent selfishness about him of which 
 he was scarcely aware ; and to indulge this selfishness he 
 was capable of a good deal of petty deceit and even treachery 
 of a sort. It was not these failings, however, that made 
 the relations of husband and wife not very satisfactory. 
 Mrs. Rosewarne was passionately fond of her husband, and 
 proportionately jealous of him. She was a woman of im- 
 pulsive imagination and of sympathetic nature, clever, bright, 
 and fanciful, well-read and well-taught, and altogther made 
 of finer stuff than Handsome George. But this passion 
 of jealousy altogether overmastered her reason. When she 
 did try to convince herself that she was in the wrong, the 
 result was merely that she resolved to keep silence; but 
 this forcible repression of her suspicions was worse in its 
 effects than the open avowal of them. When the explosion 
 came, George Rosewarne was mostly anxious to avoid it. 
 He did not seek to set matters straight. He would get into 
 a peevish temper for a few minutes, and tell her she was a 
 fool ; then he would go out for the rest of the day, and 
 come home sulky in the evening. By this time she was 
 generally in a penitent mood ; and there is nothing an 
 indolent, sulky person likes so much as to be coaxed and 
 caressed, with tears of repentance and affectionate prom* 
 
i6 three Feathers. 
 
 ises, into a good temper again. There were too many of 
 such scenes in George Rosewarne's home. 
 
 Mrs. Rosewarne may have been wrong, but people began 
 to talk. For there had come to live at the Hall a certain 
 Mrs. Shirley, who had lately returned from India, and was 
 the sister-in-law, or some such relation, of George Rosewarne's 
 master. She was a good-looking woman of forty, fresh-col- 
 ored and free-spoken, a little too fond of brandy-and-water, 
 folks said, and a great deal too fond of the handsome steward, 
 who now spent most of his time up at the big house. They 
 said she was a grass-widow. They said there were reasons 
 why her relations wished her to be buried down there in the 
 country, where she received no company, and made no efforts 
 to get acquainted with the people who had called on her and 
 left their cards. And amid all this gossip the name of 
 George Rosewarne too frequently turned up ; and there were 
 nods and winks when Mrs. Shirley and the steward were 
 seen to be riding about the country from day to day, presum- 
 ably not always conversing about the property. 
 
 The blow fell at last, and that in a fashion that need not 
 be described here. There was a wild scene between two angry 
 women. A few days after a sallow-complexioned, white- 
 haired old gentleman arrived from Paris, and was confronted 
 by a red-faced fury, who gloried in her infatuation and dis- 
 grace, and dared him to interfere. Then there was a sort of 
 conference of relatives held in the house which she still in- 
 habited. The result of all this, so far as the Rosewarnes 
 were concerned, was simply that the relatives of the woman, 
 to hush the matter up and prevent further scandal, offered to 
 purchase for George Rosewarne the "Trelyon Arms" at 
 Eglosilyan, on condition that he should immediately, with his 
 family, betake himself to that remote corner of the world, 
 and undertake to hold no further communication of any sort 
 with the woman who still (with some flash of rhetoric, which 
 probably meant nothing) swore she would follow him to the 
 end of the earth. George Rosewarne was pleased with the 
 offer, and accepted it. He might have found seme difficulty 
 in discovering another stewardship after the events that had 
 just occurred. On the other hand, the "Trelyon Arms" at 
 Eglosilyan was not a mere public-house. It was an old-fash- 
 ioned, quaint, and comfortable inn, practically shut up during 
 the winter, and in the summer made the headquarters of a 
 few families who had discovered it, and who went there as regu- 
 larly as the warm weather came round. A few antiquarian 
 folks, too, and a stray geologist or so, generally made up the 
 
RES ANGUSTJE DO MI. 17 
 
 family party that sat down to dinner every evening in the big 
 dining-room ; and who that ever made one of the odd circle 
 meeting in this strange and out-of-the-way place ever failed to 
 return to it when the winter had finally cleared away and the 
 Atlantic gat blue again ? 
 
 George Rosewarne went down to see about it. He found 
 in the inn an efficient housekeeper, who was thoroughly 
 mistress of her duties and of the servants, so that he should 
 have no great trouble about it, even though his wife were too 
 ill to help. As for his daughters, he resolved that they should 
 have nothing whatsoever to do with the inn ; but, on the con- 
 trary, be trained in all the ordinary accomplishments of young 
 ladies ; for he was rather a proud man. And so the Rose- 
 warnes were drafted down to the Cornish coast ; and as Mrs. 
 Rosewarne was of Cornish birth, and as she had given both 
 her daughters Cornish names they gradually ceased to be re- 
 garded as strangers. They made many acquaintances and 
 friends. Mrs. Rosewarne was a bright, rapid, and playful 
 talker; a woman of considerable reading and intelligence, 
 and a sympathetic listener. Her husband knew ail about 
 horses and dogs and farming, and what not ; so that young 
 Harry Trelyon, for example, was in the habit of consulting 
 him almost daily. 
 
 They had a little parlor abutting on what once had been a 
 bar, and here one or two friends sometimes dropped in to 
 have a chat. There was a bar no longer. The business of 
 the inn was conducted overhead, and was exclusively of the 
 nature described above. The pot-house of Eglosilyan was 
 the Napoleon Hotel a dilapidated place, half-way up one of 
 the steep streets. 
 
 But in leaving Devonshire for Cornwall the Rosewarnes 
 had carried with them a fatal inheritance. They could not 
 leave behind them the memory of the circumstances that had 
 caused their flight ; and ever and anon, as something occurred 
 to provoke her suspicions, Mrs. Rosewarne would break 
 out again into a passion of jealousy, and demand explana- 
 tions and reassurances, which her husband half-indolently 
 and half-sulkily refused. There was but one hand then — one 
 voice that could still the raging waters. Wenna Rosewarne 
 knew nothing of that Devonshire story, any more than her 
 sister or the neighbors did ; but she saw that her mother had 
 defects of temper, that she was irritable, unreasonable, and 
 suspicious, and she saw that her father was inconsiderately 
 indifferent and harsh. It was a hard task to reconcile these 
 two ; but the girl had all the patience of a born peacemaker ; 
 
IS THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 and patience is the more necessary to the settlement of such 
 a dispute, in that it is generally impossible for any human 
 being, outside the two who are quarrelling, to discover any 
 ground for the quarrel. 
 
 " Why, what's the matter, mother ? " she said on this occa- 
 sion, taking off her hat and shawl as if she had heard nothing 
 about it. " I do think you have been crying." 
 
 The pretty, pale woman, with the large black eyes and 
 smoothly brushed dark hair, threw a volume on the table, 
 and said, with a sort of half-hysterical laugh, " How stupid it 
 is, Wenna, to cry over the misfortunes of people in books, 
 isn't it ? " 
 
 That pretence would not have deceived Miss Wenna in 
 any case, but now she was to receive other testimony to the 
 truth of Mr. Trelyon's report. There was seated at the win- 
 dow of the room a tall and strikingly handsome young girl of 
 sixteen, whose almost perfect profile was clearly seen against 
 the light. Just at this moment she rose and stepped across 
 the room to the door, and as she went by she said, with just 
 a trace of contemptuous indifference on the proud and beau- 
 tiful face, " It is only another quarrel, Wenna." 
 
 " Mother," said the girl, when her sister had gone, "tell 
 me what it is about. What have you said to father ? Where 
 is he ? " 
 
 There was an air of quiet decision about her that did not 
 detract from the sympathy visible in her face. Mrs. Rose- 
 warne began to cry again. Then she took her daughter's 
 hand, and made her sit down by her, and told her all her 
 troubles. What was the girl to make of it ? It was the old 
 story of suspicion and challenging and sulky denial, and then 
 hot words and anger. She could make out, at least, that her 
 mother had first been made anxious about something he had 
 inadvertently said about his visit to Plymouth on the previous 
 two days. In reply to her questions he had grown peevishly 
 vague, and had then spoken in bravado of the pleasant even- 
 ing he had spent at the theatre. Wenna reasoned with her 
 mother, and pleaded with her, and at last exercised a little 
 authority over her; at the end of which she agreed that, if 
 her husband would tell her with whom he had been to the 
 theatre, she would be satisfied, would speak no more on the 
 subject, and would even formally beg his forgiveness. 
 
 " Because, mother, I have something to tell you," the 
 daughter said, "when you are all quite reconciled." 
 
 " Was it in the letter you read just now ? " 
 
 "Yes, mother." 
 
RES ANGUSTM DOML 
 
 13 
 
 The girl still held the letter in her hand. It was lying on 
 the table when she came in, but she had not opened it and 
 glanced over the contents until she saw that her mother was 
 yielding to her prayers. 
 
 " It is from Mr. Roscorla, Wenna," the mother said ; and 
 now she saw, as she might have seen before, that her daugh- 
 ter was a little paler than usual, and somewhat agitated. 
 
 " Yes, mother." 
 
 " What is it, then ? You look frightened." 
 
 "I must settle this matter first," said the girl, calmly; and 
 then she folded up the letter, and, still holding it in her hand, 
 went off to find her father. 
 
 George Rosewarne, seeking calm after the storm, was 
 seated on a large and curiously carved bench of Spanish oak 
 placed by the door of the inn. He was smoking his pipe, 
 and lazily looking at some pigeons that were flying about the 
 mill and occasionally alighting on the roof. In the calm of 
 the midsummer's day there was no sound but the incessant 
 throbbing of the big wheel over there and the plash of the 
 water. 
 
 "Now, don't bother me, Wenna," he said, the moment he 
 saw her approach. " I know you've come to make a fuss. 
 You mind your own business." 
 
 " Mother is very sorry — " the girl was beginning in a meek 
 way, when he interrupted her rudely. 
 
 " I tell you to mind your own business. I must have an 
 end of this. I have stood it long enough. Do you hear ? " 
 
 But she did not go away. She stood there, with her quiet, 
 patient face, not heeding his angry looks. 
 
 " Father, don't be hard on her. She is very sorry. She 
 is willing to beg your pardon if you wh\ only tell her who 
 went to the theatre with you at Plymouth, and relieve her 
 from this anxiety. This is all. Father, who went to the 
 theatre with you ? " 
 
 " Oh, go away ! " he said, relapsing into a sulky condition. 
 " You're growing up to be just such another as your mother." 
 
 " I cannot wish for any thing better," the girl said, mildly. 
 " She is a good woman, and she loves you dearly." 
 
 " Why," he said, turning suddenly upon her, and speaking 
 in an injured way, "no one went with me to the theatre at 
 Plymouth ! Did I say that any body did ? Surely a man must 
 do something to spend the evening if he is by himself in a 
 strange town." 
 
 Wenna put her hand on her father's shoulder, and said, 
 " Da, why didn't you take me to Plymouth ? " 
 
20 THREE FEA TITERS. 
 
 " Well, I will next time. You're a good lass," he said, still 
 in the same sulky way. 
 
 " Now come in and make it up with mother. She is anxious 
 to make it up." 
 
 He looked at his pipe. 
 
 " In a few minutes, Wenna. When I finish my pipe." 
 
 " She is waiting now," said the girl, quietly ; and with that 
 her father burst into a loud laugh, and got up and shrugged 
 his shoulders ; and then, taking his daughter by the ear, and 
 saying that she was a sly little cat, he walked into the house 
 and into the room where his wife awaited him. 
 
 Meanwhile Wenna Rosewarne had stolen off to her own 
 little room, and there she sat down at the window, and with 
 trembling fingers took out a letter and began to read it. It 
 was certainly a document of some length, consisting, indeed, 
 of four large pages of blue paper, covered with a small, neat, 
 and precise handwriting. She had not got on very far with it, 
 when the door of the room was opened, and Mrs. Rosewarne 
 appeared, the pale face and large dark eyes being now filled 
 with a radiant pleasure. Her husband had said something 
 friendly to her; and the quick, imaginative nature had leaped 
 to the conclusion that all was right again, and that there were 
 to be no more needless quarrels. 
 
 " And now, Wenna," she said, sitting down by the girl, "what 
 is it all about ? and why did you look so frightened a few 
 minutes ago ? " 
 
 " Oh, mother ! " the girl said, " this is a letter from Mr. Ros- 
 corla, and he wants me to marry him." 
 
 " Mr. Roscorla ! " cried the mother, in blank amazement. 
 " Who ever dreamed of such a thing ? and what do you say, 
 Wenna ? What do you think ? What answer will you send 
 him ? Dear me, to think of Mr. Roscorla taking a wife, and 
 wanting to have our Wenna, too ! " 
 
 She began to tell her mother something of the letter, reading 
 it carefully to herself, and then repeating aloud some brief 
 suggestion of what she had read, to let her mother know what 
 were the arguments that Mr. Roscorla employed. And it was, 
 on the whole, an argumentative letter, and much more calm 
 and lucid and reasonable than most letters are which contain 
 offers of marriage. Mr. Roscorla wrote thus : 
 
 " Basset Cottage, Eglosilyan,_/«/j/ 18, 18 — . 
 " My Dear Miss Wenna, — 
 
 " I fear that this letter may surprise you, but I hope you 
 will read it through without alarm or indignation, and deal 
 
RES ANGUST^E DOMI. 21 
 
 fairly and kindly with what it has to say. Perhaps you will 
 think, when you have read it, that I ought to have come to 
 you and said the things that it says. But I wish to put these 
 things before you in as simple a manner as I can, which is 
 best done by writing ; and a letter will have this advantage 
 that you can recur to it at any moment, if there is some point 
 on which you are in doubt. 
 
 " The object, then, of this letter is lo ask you to become 
 my wife, and to put before you a few considerations which 
 I hope will have some little influence in determining your 
 answer. You will be surprised, no doubt ; for though you 
 must be well aware that I could perceive the graces of your 
 character — the gentleness and charity of heart and modesty 
 of demeanor that have endeared you to the whole of the 
 people among whom you live — you may fairly say that I 
 never betrayed my admiration of you in word or deed ; 
 and that is true. I cannot precisely tell you why I should 
 be more distant in manner towards her whom I preferred 
 to all the world than to her immediate friends and associ- 
 ates for whom I cared much less ; but such is the fact. 
 I could talk and joke and spend a pleasant afternoon in the 
 society of your sister Mabyn, for example ; I could ask her to 
 accept a present from me ; I could write letters to her when 
 I was in London ; but with you all was different. Perhaps it 
 is because you are so fine and shy, because there is so much 
 sensitiveness in your look, that I have almost been afraid to 
 go near you, lest you should shrink from some rude intimation 
 of that which I now endeavor to break to you gently — my 
 wish and earnest hope that you may become my wife. I 
 trust I have so far explained what perhaps you may have 
 considered coldness on my part. 
 
 " I am a good deal older than you are ; and I cannot pre- 
 tend to offer you that fervid passion which, to the imagin- 
 ation of the young, seems the only thing worth living for, 
 and one of the necessary conditions of marriage. On the 
 other hand, I cannot expect the manifestation of any such 
 passion on your side, even if I had any wish for it. But on 
 this point I should like to make a few observations which I 
 hope will convince you that my proposal is not so unreason- 
 able as it may have seemed at first sight. When I look over 
 the list of all my friends who have married, whom do I find 
 to be living the happiest life ? Not they who as boy and girl 
 were carried away by a romantic idealism which seldom lasts 
 beyond a few weeks after marriage, but those who had wisely 
 chosen partners fitted to become their constant and affec* 
 
22 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 tionate friends. It is this possibility of friendship, indeed, 
 which is the very basis of a happy marriage. The ro- 
 mance and passion of love soon depart ; then the man and 
 woman find themselves living in the same house, dependent 
 on each other's character, intelligence, and disposition, and 
 bound by inexorable ties. If, in these circumstances, they 
 can be good friends, it is well with them. If they admire 
 each other's thoughts and feelings, if they are generously 
 considerate towards each other's weaknesses, if tney have 
 pleasure in each other's society — if, in short, they find them- 
 selves bound to each other by ties of a true and disinterested 
 friendship, the world has been good to them. I say nothing 
 against that period of passion which, in some rare and 
 fortunate instances, precedes this infinitely longer period of 
 friendship. You would accuse me of the envy of an elderly 
 man if I denied that it has its romantic aspects. But how 
 very temporary these are ! How dangerous they are too ! 
 The passion of a young man, as I have seen it displayed in a 
 thousand instances, is not a thing to be desired. It is cruel 
 in its jealousy, exacting in its demands, heedless in its 
 impetuosity ; and when it has burned itself out — when nothing 
 remains but ashes and an empty fireplace — who is to say that 
 the capacity for a firm and lasting friendship will survive ? 
 But perhaps you fancy that this passionate love may last for- 
 ever. Will you forgive me, dear Miss Wenna, if I say that 
 that is the dream of a girl ? In such rare cases as I have seen, 
 this perpetual ardor of love was anything but a happiness to 
 those concerned. The freaks of jealousy on the part of a 
 boy and girl who think of getting married are but occasions 
 for the making of quarrels and the delight of reconciliation ; 
 but a life-long jealousy involves a torture to both husband 
 and wife to which death would be preferable." 
 
 At this point Wenna's cheeks burned red; she was silent 
 for a time, and her mother wondered why she skipped so 
 long a passage without saying a word. 
 
 " I have used all the opportunities within my reach," the 
 letter continued, " to form a judgment of your character ; I 
 know something of my own ; and I sincerely believe that we 
 could live a happy and pleasant life together. It is a great 
 sacrifice I ask of you, I own ; but you would not find me slow 
 to repay you in gratitude. I am almost alone in the world ; 
 the few relatives I have I never see ; I have scarcely a friend 
 or acquaintance except those I meet under your father's 
 hospitable roof. I cannot conceal from myself that I should 
 be by far the greater gainer by such a marriage : I should 
 
RES ANGUST^E DO MI. 
 
 23 
 
 secure for myself a pleasant, intelligent, and amiable 
 companion, who would brighten my home, and in time, I 
 doubt not, soften and sweeten those views of the world that 
 are naturally formed by a middle-aged man living alone and 
 in privacy. What can I offer you in return ? Not much — 
 except the opportunity of adding one more to the many good 
 deeds that seem to be the chief occupation of your life. And 
 I should be glad if you would let me help you in that way, 
 and give you the aid of advice which might, perhaps, temper 
 your generosity and apply it to its best uses. You are aware 
 that I have no occupation — and scarcely a hobby ; I should 
 make it my occupation, my constant endeavor and pleasure, 
 to win and secure your affection — to make the ordinary little 
 cares and duties of life, in which you take so great an 
 interest, smooth and pleasant to you. In short, I should try 
 to make you happy ; not in any frantic and wild way, but by 
 the exercise of a care and affection and guardianship by 
 which I hope we should both profit. May I point out, also, 
 that, as a married woman, you would have much more 
 influence among the poorer families in the village who take 
 up so much of your attention ; and you would be removed, 
 too, if I may mention such a thing, from certain unhappy 
 circumstances which I fear trouble you greatly at times. 
 But perhaps I should not have referred to this ; I would 
 rather seek to press my claim on the ground of the happi- 
 ness you would thereby confer on others, which I know to be 
 your chief object in life. 
 
 " I have not said half what I intended to say ; but I must 
 not fatigue you. Perhaps you will give me an opportunity of 
 telling you personally what I think of yourself, for I cannot 
 bring myself to write it in bald words ; and if you should be 
 in doubt, give me the benefit of the doubt, and let me explain. 
 I do not ask you for a hurried answer; but I should be glad 
 if, out of the kindness of all your ways, you would send me 
 one line soon, merely to say that I have not offended you. 
 " I am, my dear Miss Rosewarne, 
 " Yours most sincerely, 
 
 " Richard Roscorla." 
 
 " Oh ! what must I do, mother ? " the girl cried. " Is it all 
 true that he says ? " 
 
 " My dear child, there is a great deal of common-sense in 
 the letter," the mother replied, calmly ; " but you needn't 
 decide all at once. Take plenty of time. I suppose you 
 don't dislike Mr. Roscorla ? " 
 
24 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " Oh, not at all — not at all ! But then, to marry him — ! " 
 
 " If you don't wish to marry him, no harm is done," Mrs. 
 Rosewarne said. " I cannot advise you, Wenna. Your own 
 feelings must settle the question. But you ought to be very 
 proud of the offer, anyway ; and you must thank him prop- 
 erly ; for Mr. Roscorla is a gentleman, although he is not as 
 rich as his relations ; and it is a great honor he has done you. 
 Of course, Wenna, if you were in love with any one — if there 
 was any young man about here whom you would like to 
 marry — there would be no need for you to be frightened 
 about what Mr. Roscorla says of young folks being in love. It 
 is a trying time, to be sure. It has many troubles. Perhaps, 
 after all, a quiet and peaceful life is better, especially for you, 
 Wenna, for you were always quiet and peaceful, and if any 
 trouble came over you it would break your heart. I think it 
 would be better for you if you were never tried in that way, 
 Wenna." 
 
 The girl rose, with a sigh. 
 
 " Not that it is my advice, Wenna," said the mother anx- 
 iously. " But you are of that nature, you see. If you were 
 in love with a young man, you would be his slave. If he 
 ceased to care for you, or were cruel to you, it would kill you, 
 my dear. Well, you see, here is a man who would be able to 
 take care of you, and of your sister Mabyn, too, if anything 
 happened to your father or me ; and he would make much of 
 you, I have no doubt, and be very kind to you. You are 
 not like other girls, Wenna — " 
 
 " I know that, mother," said the girl, with a strange sort of 
 smile that just trembled on the verge of tears. "They can't 
 all be as plain as I am." 
 
 " Oh, I don't mean that ! You make a great mistake if 
 you think that men care only for doll-faces — as Mr. Roscorla 
 says, that fancy does not last long after marriage, and then 
 men begin to ask whether their wives are clever and amusing 
 and well-informed, and so on. What I meant was, that most 
 girls could run the gauntlet of that sort of love that Mr. Ros- 
 corla describes, and suffer little if they made a mistake. But 
 there's no shell about you, Wenna. You are quite undefended, 
 sensitive, and timid. People are deceived by your quick wit 
 and your cheerfulness and your singing. I know better. I 
 know that a careless word may cut you deeply. And dear, 
 dear me, what a terrible time that is when all your life seems 
 to hang on the way a word is spoken ! " 
 
 The girl crossed over to a small side-table, on which there 
 was a writing-desk. 
 
RES ANGUSTyE DOMI. 25 
 
 " But mind, Wenna," said her mother, with a return of 
 anxiety — " mind, I don't say that to influence your decision. 
 Don't be influenced by me. Consult your own feelings, dear. 
 You know I fancy sometimes you undervalue yourself, and 
 think that no one cares about you, and that you have no 
 claim to be thought much of. Well, that is a great mistake, 
 Wenna. You must not throw yourself away through that 
 notion. I wish all the girls about were as clever and good- 
 natured as you. But at the same time, you know, there are 
 few girls I know, and certainly none about here, who would 
 consider it throwing themselves away to marry Mr. Roscorla." 
 
 "Marry Mr. Roscorla!" a third voice exclaimed; and at 
 the same moment Mabyn Rosewarne entered the room. 
 
 She looked at her mother and sister with astonishment. 
 She saw that Wenna was writing, and that she was very pale. 
 She saw a blue-colored letter lying beside her. Then the 
 proud young beauty understood the situation ; and with her 
 to perceive a thing was to act on its suggestion there and 
 then. 
 
 " Our Wenna ! Marry that old man ! Oh, mother ! how 
 can you let her do such a thing ? " 
 
 She walked right over to the small table, with a glow of in- 
 dignation in her face, and with her lips set firm, and her eyes 
 full of fire ; and then she caught up the letter, that had 
 scarcely been begun, and tore it in a thousand pieces, and 
 flung the pieces on the floor. 
 
 " Oh, mother ! how could you let her do it ? Mr. Roscorla 
 marry our Wenna ! " 
 
 She took two or three steps up and down the room, in a 
 pretty passion of indignation, and yet trying to keep her proud 
 eyes free from tears. 
 
 " Mother, if you do, I'll go into a convent ! I'll go to sea, 
 and never come back again ! I won't stop in the house — not 
 one minute — if Wenna goes away ! " 
 
 " My dear child," said the mother, patiently, " it is not my 
 doing. You must not be so rash. Mr. Roscorla is not an 
 old man — nothing of the sort ; if he does offer to marry 
 Wenna, it is a great honor done to her, I think. She ought 
 to be very grateful, as I hope you will be, Mabyn, when any 
 one offers to marry you — " 
 
 Miss Mabyn drew herself up ; and her pretty mouth lost 
 none of its scorn. 
 
 " And as for Wenna," the mother said, " she must judge 
 for herself — " 
 
 " Oh, but she's not fit to judge for herself ! " broke in the 
 
26 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 younger sister impetuously. " She will do anything that any- 
 body wants. She would make herself the slave of anybody. 
 She is always being imposed on. Just wait a moment, and / 
 will answer Mr. Roscorla's letter ! " 
 
 She walked over to the table again, twisted round the writ- 
 ing-desk, and quickly pulled in a chair. You w r ould have 
 thought that the pale, dark-eyed little girl on the other side 
 of the table had no will of her own — that she was in the habit 
 of obeying this beautiful young termagant of a sister of hers ; 
 but Miss Mabyn's bursts of impetuosity were no match for 
 the gentle firmness and patience that were invariably opposed 
 to them. In this instance Mr. Roscorla was not to be the re- 
 cipient of a letter which doubtless would have astonished 
 him. 
 
 "•Mabyn," said her sister Wenna, quietly, " don't be fool- 
 ish. I must write to Mr. Roscorla — but only to tell him that 
 I have received his letter. Give me the pen. And will you 
 go and ask Mrs. Borlase if she can spare me Jennifer for a 
 quarter of an hour, to go up to Basset Cottage ? " 
 
 Mabyn rose, silent, disappointed, and obedient, but not 
 subdued. She went off to execute the errand ; but as she 
 went she said to herself, with her head very erect, " Before 
 Mr. Roscorla marries our Wenna, I will have a word to say 
 to him." 
 
 Meanwhile Wenna Rosewarne, apparently quite calm, but 
 with her hand trembling so that she could hardly hold the 
 pen, wrote her first love-letter ; and it ran thus : 
 
 " Trelyon Arms, Tuesday Afternoon. 
 
 " Dear Mr. Roscorla, — 
 
 " I have received your letter, and you must not think me 
 offended. I will try to send you an answer to-morrow ; or 
 perhaps the day after, or perhaps on Friday; I will try to send 
 you an answer to your letter. 
 
 " I am yours sincerely, 
 
 " Wenna Rosewarne." 
 
 She took it timidly to her mother, who smiled, and said it 
 was a little incoherent. 
 
 " But I cannot write it again, mother," the girl said. 
 " Will you give it to Jennifer when she comes ? " 
 
 Little did Miss Wenna notice of the beautiful golden after- 
 noon that was shining over Eglosilyan as she left the inn and 
 stole away out to the rocks at the mouth of the little harbor. 
 She spoke to her many acquaintances as she passed, and could 
 
RES ANGUS T^G DOMI. 27 
 
 not have told a minute thereafter that she had seen them. 
 She said a word or two to the coastguardsman out at the 
 point — an old friend of hers — and then she went round to the 
 seaward side of the rocks, and sat down to think the whole 
 matter over. The sea was as still as a sea in a dream. 
 There was but one ship visible, away down in the south, a 
 brown speck in a flood of golden haze. 
 
 When the first startled feeling was over — when she had re- 
 covered from the absolute fright that so sudden a proposal 
 had caused her — something of pride and pleasure crept into 
 her heart to know that she was not quite the insignificant per- 
 son she had fancied herself to be. Was it true, then, what 
 he had said about her being of some use to the people around 
 her ? Did they really care for her ? Had she really won the 
 respect and approval of a man who had hitherto seemed to 
 her suspicious and censorious ? 
 
 There flashed upon her some faint picture of herself as a 
 matron, and she found herself blushing to think of herself 
 going round the cottages as Mrs. Roscorla, and acting the 
 part of a little married woman. If marriage meant no more 
 than that, she was not afraid of it ; on the contrary, the pros- 
 pect rather pleased her. These were duties she could un- 
 derstand. Marriage, in those idle day-dreams of hers, had 
 seemed to her some vague and distant and awful thing ; all 
 the romance and worship and noble surrender of it being far 
 away from a poor little plain person, not capable of inspiring 
 idealism in anybody. But this, on the other hand, seemed 
 easily within her reach. She became rather amused with the 
 picture which she drew of herself as Mrs. Roscorla. Her 
 quick fancy put in humorous touches here and there, until she 
 found herself pretty nearly laughing at a tiny married 
 woman. For what did the frank-spoken heroine of that 
 sailor-ballad say to her lover ? If he would be faithful and 
 kind — 
 
 " Nor your Molly forsake, 
 Still your trousers I'll wash, and your grog, too, I'll make." 
 
 As for his grog, would she mix the proper quantities, as they 
 sat together of an evening, by themselves, in that little par- 
 lor up at Basset Cottage ? And would she have to take his 
 arm as they walked of a Sunday morning to church, up the 
 main street of Eglosilyan, where all her old friends, the 
 children, would be looking at her ? And would she some 
 day, with all the airs and counsels of a married woman, have 
 to take Mabyn to her arms, and bid the younger sister have 
 
28 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 confidence, and listen to all the story of Mabyn's wonder and 
 delight over the new and strange love that had come into her 
 heart ? And would she ask Mabyn to describe her lover ? 
 and would she act the ordinary part of an experienced ad- 
 viser, and bid her be cautious, and ask her to wait until the 
 young man had made a position in the world, and had proved 
 himself prudent and sensible and of steady mind ? Or would 
 she not rather fling her arms round her sister's neck, and bid 
 her go down on her knees and thank God for having made 
 her so beautiful, and bid her cherish as the one good thing 
 in all the world the strong and yearning love and admiration 
 and worship of a young and wondering soul ? 
 
 Wenna Rosewarne had been amusing herself with these 
 pictures of herself as a married woman ; but she was crying 
 ail the same ; and becoming a little impatient with herself, 
 and perhaps a trifle hysterical, she rose from the rocks and 
 thought she would go home again. She had scarcely turned 
 however, when she met Mr. Roscorla himself, who had seen 
 her at a distance, and followed her. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE LAST LOOK BACK. 
 
 Mr. Roscorla may be recommended to ladies generally, 
 and to married men who are haunted by certain vague and 
 vain regrets, as an excellent example of the evils and vanity 
 of club life. He was now a man approaching fifty, careful 
 in dress and manner, methodical in habit, and grave of as- 
 pect, living out a not over-enjoyable life in a solitary little 
 cottage, and content to go for his society to the good folks of 
 the village inn. But five-and-twenty years before he had 
 been a gay young fellow about town, a pretty general favor- 
 ite, clever in his way, free with his money, and possessed of 
 excellent spirits. He was not very wealthy, to be sure ; his 
 father had left him certain shares in some plantations in Ja- 
 maica, 'but the returns periodically forwarded to him by his 
 agents were sufficient for his immediate wants. He had few 
 cares, and he seemed on the whole to have a pleasant time 
 of it. On disengaged evenings he lounged about his club, 
 and dined with one or other of the men he knew, and 
 then he played billiards till bed-time. Or he would have 
 nice little dinner-parties at his rooms ; and after the men had 
 
THE LAST LOOK BACK. 29 
 
 changed their coats, would have a few games at whist, per- 
 haps finishing up with a little spurt of unlimited loo. In the 
 season he went to balls and dinners and parties of all sorts, 
 singling out a few families with pretty daughters for his espe- 
 cial attentions, but careful never to commit himself. When 
 every one went from town he went too, and in the autumn 
 and winter months he had a fair amount of shooting and 
 hunting, guns and horses alike, and willingly furnished him 
 by his friends. 
 
 Once, indeed, he had taken a fancy that he ought to do 
 something, and he went and read law a bit, and ate some 
 dinners, and got called to the Bar. He even went the length 
 of going on Circuit ; but either he travelled by coach, or fra- 
 ternized with a solicitor, or did something objectionable ; at 
 all events his Circuit mess fined him : he refused to pay the 
 fine, threw the whole thing up, and returned to his club and 
 its carefully ordered dinners, and its friendly game of six- 
 penny and eighteen-penny pool. 
 
 Of course he dressed and acted and spoke just as his 
 fellows did, and gradually from the common talk of smoking- 
 rooms imbibed a vast amount of nonsense. He knew that 
 such and such a statesman professed particular opinions only 
 to keep in place and enjoy the loaves and fishes. He could 
 tell you to a penny the bribe given to the editor of the Times 
 by a foreign government for a certain series of articles. As 
 for the stories he heard and repeated of all manner of noble 
 families, they were many of them doubtless true, and they 
 were nearly all unpleasant ; but then the tale that would 
 have been regarded with indifference if told about an ordi- 
 nary person, grew lambent with interest when it was told 
 about a commonplace woman possessed of a shire and a 
 gaby crowned with a coronet. There was no malice in these 
 stories ; only the young men were supposed to know every- 
 thing about the private affairs of a certain number of families 
 no more nearly related to them than their washerwoman. 
 
 He was unfortunate, too, in a few personal experiences. 
 He was a fairly well-intentioned young man ; and, going 
 home one night, was moved to pity by the sobbing and ex- 
 clamations of a little girl of twelve, whose mother was drunk 
 and tumbling about the pavement. The child could not get 
 her mother to go home, and it was now past midnight. 
 Richard Roscorla thought he would interfere, and went over 
 the way and helped the woman to her feet. He had scarcely 
 done so when the virago turned on him, shouted for help, 
 accused him of assaulting her, and finally hit him straight be- 
 
30 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 twcen the eyes, nearly blinding him, and causing him to keep 
 his chamber for three weeks. After that he gave up the lower 
 classes. 
 
 Then a gentleman who had been his bosom friend at Eton, 
 and who had carried away with him so little of the atmos- 
 phere of that institution that he by and by abandoned him- 
 self to trade, renewed his acquaintance with Mr. Roscorla, 
 and besought him to join him in a little business transaction. 
 He only wanted a few thousand pounds to secure the success 
 of a venture that would make both their fortunee. Young 
 Roscorla hesitated. Then his friend sent his wife, an ex- 
 ceedingly pretty woman, and she pleaded with such sweetness 
 and pathos that she actually carried away a check for the 
 amount in her beautiful little purse. A couple of days 
 afterwards Mr. Roscorla discovered that his friend had sud- 
 denly left the country ; that he had induced a good many 
 people to lend him money to start his new enterprise ; and that 
 the beautiful lady whom he had sent to plead his cause was 
 a wife certainly, but not his wife. She was. in fact, the wife of 
 one of the swindled creditors, who bore her loss with greater 
 equanimity than he showed in speaking of his departed 
 money. Young Roscorla laughed, and said to himself that 
 a man who wished to have any knowledge of the world must 
 be prepared to pay for it. 
 
 The loss of the money, though it pressed him hardly for a 
 few years, and gave a fright to his father's executors, did not 
 trouble him much ; for, in company with a good many of the 
 young fellows about, he had given himself up to one of the 
 most pleasing delusions which even club-life has fostered. 
 It was the belief of those young men that in England there 
 are a vast number of young ladies of fortune who are so ex- 
 ceedingly anxious to get married that any decent young 
 fellow of fair appearance and good manners has only to bide 
 his time in order to be provided for for life. Accordingly Mr. 
 Roscorla and others of his particular set were in no hurry to 
 take a wife. They waited to see who would bid most for 
 them. They were not in want; they could have maintained 
 a wife in a certain fashion ; but that was not the fashion in 
 which they hoped to spend the rest of their days, when they 
 consented to relinquish the joys and freedom of bachelor- 
 hood. Most of them, indeed, had so thoroughly settled in 
 their own mind the sort of existence to which they were en- 
 titled — the house and horses and shooting necessary to them 
 — that it was impossible for them to consider any lesser offer; 
 and so they waited from year to year, guarding themselves 
 
THE LAST LOOK BACK. 31 
 
 against temptation, cultivating an excellent taste in various 
 sorts of luxuries, and reserving themselves for the grand coup 
 which was to make their fortune. In many cases they looked 
 upon themselves as the victims of the world. They had been 
 deceived by this or the other woman ; but now they had 
 done with the fatal passion of love, its dangerous perplexities 
 and insincere romance; and were resolved to take a sound, 
 common-sense view of life. So they waited carelessly, and 
 enjoyed their time, growing in wisdom of a certain sort. 
 They were gentlemanly young fellows enough; they would 
 not have clone a dishonorable action for the world ; they 
 were well-bred, and would have said no discourteous thing to 
 the woman they married, even though they hated her ; they 
 had their cold bath every morning ; they lived soberly, if not 
 very righteously; and would not have asked ten points at 
 billiards if they fairly thought they could have played even. 
 The only thing was that they had changed their sex. They 
 were not Perseus, but Andromeda ; and while this poor mas- 
 culine Andromeda remained chained to the rock of an 
 imaginary poverty, the feminine Perseus who was to come in 
 a blaze of jewels and gold to the rescue still remained afar 
 off, until Andromeda got a little tired. 
 
 And so it was with Mr. Richard Roscorla. He lounged 
 about his club, and had nice little dinners ; he went to other 
 people's houses, and dined there ; with his crush-hat under his 
 arm he went to many a dance, and made such acquaintances 
 as he might ; but somehow that one supreme chance invariably 
 missed. He did not notice it, any more than his fellows. 
 If you had asked any of them, they would still have given 
 you those devil-may-care opinions about women, and those 
 shrewd estimates of what was worth living for in the world. 
 They did not seem to be aware that year after year was going 
 by, and that a new race of younger men were coming to the 
 front, eager for all sorts of pastimes, ready to dance till day- 
 break, and defying with their splendid constitutions the 
 worst champagne a confectioner ever brewed. A man who 
 takes good care of himself is slow to believe that he is growing 
 middle-aged. If the sitting-up all night to play loo does him 
 an injury such as he would not have experienced a few years 
 before, he lays the blame of it on the brandy-and-soda. When 
 two or three hours over wet turnips make his knees feel queer, 
 he vows that he is in bad condition, but that a few days' ex- 
 ercise will set him right. It was a long time before Mr. Rich- 
 ard Roscorla would admit to himself that his hair was grow- 
 ing gray. By this time many of his old friends and associates 
 
32 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 had left the club. Some had died ; some had made the best 
 of a bad bargain, and married a plain country cousin ; none, 
 to tell the truth, had been rescued by the beautiful heiress 
 for whom they had all been previously waiting. And while 
 these men went away, and while new men came into the club 
 — young fellows with fresh complexions, abundant spirits, a 
 lavish disregard of money, and an amazing enjoyment in 
 drinking any sort of wine — another set of circumstances came 
 into play which rendered it more and more necessary for Mr. 
 Roscorla to change his ways of life. 
 
 He was now over forty ; his hair was gray ; his companions 
 were mostly older men than himself ; and he began to be 
 rather pressed for money. The merchants in London who 
 sold for his agents in Jamaica those consignments of sugar 
 and rum sent him every few months statements which showed 
 that either the estates were yielding less, or the markets had 
 fallen, or labor had risen — whatever it might be, his annual 
 income was very seriously impaired. He could no longer 
 afford to play half-crown points at whist — even sixpenny pool 
 was dangerous ; and those boxes and stalls which it was once 
 his privilege to take for dowagers gifted with daughters were 
 altogether out of the question. The rent of his rooms in 
 Jermyn Street was a serious matter; all his little economies 
 at the club were of little avail ; at last he resolved to leave 
 London. And then it was that he bethought him of living 
 permanently at this cottage at Eglosilyan, which had belonged 
 to his grandfather, and which he had visited from time to 
 time during the summer months. He would continue his club 
 subscriptions; he would still correspond with certain of his 
 friends ; he would occasionally pay a flying visit to London ; 
 and down here by the Cornish coast he would live a healthy, 
 economical, contented life. 
 
 So he came to Eglosilyan, and took up his abode in the 
 plain white cottage placed amid birch-trees on the side of the 
 hill, and set about providing himself with amusement. He 
 had a good many books, and he read at night over his final 
 pipe ; he made friends with the fishermen, and often went 
 out with them ; he took a little interest in wild plants ; and he 
 rode a sturdy little pony by way of exercise. He was known 
 to the Trelyons, to the clergymen of the neighborhood, and 
 to one or two families living farther off ; but he did not dine 
 out much, for he could not well invite his host to dinner in 
 return. His chief friends, indeed, were the Rosewarnes ; 
 and scarcely a day passed that he did not call at the inn and 
 have a chat with George Rosewarne, or with his wife and 
 
THE LAST LOOK BA CK. 33 
 
 daughters. For the rest, Mr. Roscorla was a small man, 
 sparely built, with somewhat fresh complexion, close-cropped 
 gray hair, and iron-gray whiskers. He dressed very neatly 
 and methodically ; he was fairly light and active in his walk ; 
 and he had a grave, good-natured smile. He was much im- 
 proved in constitution, indeed, since he came to Eglosilyan ; 
 for that was not a place to let any one die of languor, or to 
 encourage complexions of the color of apple- pudding. Mr. 
 Roscorla, indeed, had the appearance of a pleasant little 
 country lawyer, somewhat finical in dress and grave in man- 
 ner, and occasionally just a trifle supercilious and cutting in 
 his speech. 
 
 He had received Wenna Rosewarne's brief and hurriedly 
 written note ; and if accident had not thrown her in his way, 
 he would doubtless have granted her that time for reflection 
 which she demanded. But happening to be out, he saw her 
 go down towards the rocks beyond the harbor. She had a 
 pretty figure, and she walked gracefully ; when he saw her 
 at a distance some little flutter of anxiety disturbed his heart. 
 That glimpse of her — the possibility of securing as his con- 
 stant companion a girl who walked so daintily and dressed 
 so neatly — added some little warmth of feeling to the wish 
 he had carefully reasoned out and expressed. For the offer 
 he had sent to Miss Wenna was the result of much calcula- 
 tion. He was half aware that he had let his youth slip by 
 and idled away his opportunities ; there was now no chance 
 of his engaging in any profession or pursuit ; there was little 
 chance of his bettering his condition by a rich marriage. 
 What could he now offer to a beautiful young creature pos- 
 sessed of fortune, such as he had often looked out for, in re- 
 turn for herself and her money ? Not his gray hairs, and his 
 asthmatic evenings in winter, and the fixed and narrow and 
 oftentimes selfish habits and opinions begotten of a solitary 
 life. Here, on the other hand, was a young lady of pleasing 
 manners and honest nature, and of humble wishes, as be- 
 came her station, whom he might induce to marry him. She 
 had scarcely ever moved out of the small circle around her ; 
 and in it were no possible lovers for her. If he did not 
 marry her, she might drift into as hopeless a position as his 
 own. If she consented to marry him, would they not be 
 able to live in a friendly way together, gradually winning 
 each other's sympathy, and making the world a little more 
 sociable and comfortable for both ? There was no chance 
 of his going back to the brilliant society in which he had 
 once moved ; for there was no one whom he could expect to 
 
34 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 die and leave him any money. When he went up to town 
 and spent an evening or two at his club, he found himself 
 almost wholly among strangers ; and he could not get that 
 satisfaction out of a solitary dinner that once, was his. He 
 returned to his cottage at Eglosilyan with some degree of 
 resignation ; and fancied he could live well enough there if 
 Wenna Rosewarne would only come to relieve him from its 
 frightful loneliness. 
 
 He blushed when he went forward to her on these rocks, 
 and was exceedingly embarrassed, and could scarcely look 
 her in the face as he begged her pardon for intruding on her, 
 and hoped she would resume her seat. She was a little pale, 
 and would have liked to get away, but was probably so 
 frightened that she did not know how to take the step. 
 Without a word, she sat clown again, her heart beating as if 
 it would suffocate her. Then there was a terrible pause. 
 
 Mr. Roscorla discovered at this moment — and the shock 
 almost bewildered him — that he would have to play the part 
 of a lover. He had left that out of the question. He had 
 found it easy to dissociate love from marriage in writing a 
 letter; in fact he had written to get over the necessity of 
 shamming sentiment ; but here was a young and sensitive 
 girl, probably with a good deal of romantic nonsense in her 
 head, and he was going to ask her to marry him. And just 
 at this moment, also, a terrible recollection flashed in on his 
 mind of Wenna Rosewarne's liking for humor, and of the 
 merry light he had often seen in her eyes, however demure 
 her manner might be ; and then it occurred to him that if he 
 did play the lover, she would know that he knew he was 
 making a fool of himself, and laugh at him in the safe con- 
 cealment of her own room. 
 
 " Of course," he said, making a sudden plunge, followed 
 by a gasp or two — " of course — Miss Wenna — of course you 
 were surprised to get my letter — a letter containing an offer 
 of marriage, and almost nothing about affection in it. Well, 
 there are some things one can neither write nor say — they 
 have so often been the subject of good-natured ridicule that 
 —that—" 
 
 " I think one forgets that," Wenna said timidly, " if one is 
 in earnest about anything." 
 
 " Miss Wenna," he said, " you know I find it very difficult 
 to say what I should like to say. The letter did not tell you 
 half — probably you thought it too dry and business-like. 
 But at all events you were not offended ? " 
 
 " Oh no," she said, wondering how she could get away, 
 
THE LAST LOOK B A CK. 3 5 
 
 and whether a precipitate plunge into the sea below her 
 would not be the simplest plan. Her head, she felt, was 
 growing giddy, and she began to hear snatches of " Wap- 
 ping Old Stairs " in the roar of the waves around her. 
 
 But he continued to talk to her, insisting on much he had 
 said in his letter, and that with a perfect faith in its truth. 
 So far as his own experience went, the hot-headed romanti- 
 cism of youth had only led to mischief. Then the mere fact 
 that she allowed him to talk was everything ; a point was 
 gained in that she had not straightway sent him off. 
 
 Incidentally he spoke of her charitable labors among the 
 poorer folks of Eglosilyan ; and here he speedily saw he had 
 got an opening, and he made use of it dexterously. For 
 Miss Wenna's weak side was a great distrust of herself, and 
 a longing to be assured that she was cared for by anybody, 
 and of some little account in the world. To tell her that the 
 people of Eglosilyan were without exception fond of her, and 
 ready at all moments to say kind things of her, was the 
 sweetest flattery to her ears. Mr. Roscorla easily perceived 
 this, and made excellent use of his discovery. If she did not 
 quite believe all that she heard, she was secretly delighted to 
 hear it. It hinted at the possible realization of all her 
 dreams, even though she could never be beautiful, rich, and 
 of noble presence. Wenna's heart rather inclined to her 
 companion just then. He seemed to her to be a connect- 
 ing link between her and her manifold friends in Eglosilyan ; 
 for how had he heard those things, which she had not heard, 
 if he were not in general communication with them ? He 
 seemed to her, too, a friendly counsellor on whom she could 
 rely ; he was the very first, indeed, who had ever offered to 
 help her in her work. 
 
 " It is far more a matter of intention than of temper," he 
 continued, speaking in a roundabout way of marriage. 
 " When once two people find out the good qualities in each 
 other, they should fix their faith on those, and let the others be 
 overlooked as much as possible. But I don't think there is 
 much to be feared from your temper, Miss Wenna ; and as 
 for mine — I suppose I get vexed sometimes, like other peo- 
 ple, but I don't think I am bad-tempered, and I am sure I 
 should never be bad-tempered to you. I don't think I should 
 readily forget what I owe you for taking pity on a solitary 
 old fellow like myself, if I can only persuade you to do that, 
 and for being content to live a humdrum life up in that 
 small cottage. By the way, do you like riding, Wenna ? 
 Has your father got a lady's saddle ? " 
 
36 THREE FEA INTERS. 
 
 The question startled her so that the blood rushed to her 
 face in a moment, and she could not answer. Was it not 
 that very morning that she had been asked almost the same 
 question by Mr. Trelyon ? And while she was dreamily 
 looking at an imaginative picture of her future life, calm and 
 placid and commonplace, the sudden introduction into it of 
 Harry Trelyon almost frightened her. The mere recalling 
 of his name, indeed, shattered that magic-lantern slide, and 
 took her back to their parting of the forenoon, when he left 
 her in something of an angry fashion ; or, rather, it took her 
 still further back — to one bright summer morning on which 
 she had met young Trelyon riding over the clowns to St. 
 Gennis. We all of us know how apt the mind is to retain 
 one particular impression of a friend's appearance, sometimes 
 even in the matter of dress and occupation. When we 
 recall such and such a person, we think of a particular smile, 
 a particular look ; perhaps one particular incident of his or 
 her life. Whenever Wenna Rosewarne thought of Mr. Trel- 
 yon, she thought of him as she saw him on that one 
 morning. She was coming along the rough path that crosses 
 the bare uplands by the sea ; he was riding by another path 
 some little distance off, and did not notice her. The boy 
 was riding hard ; the sunlight was on his face ; he was sing- 
 ing aloud some song about the Cavaliers and King Charles. 
 Two or three years had come and gone since then. She 
 had seen Master Harry in many a mood, and not unfrequently 
 ill-tempered ; but whenever she thought of him suddenly, her 
 memory presented her with that picture ; and it was the 
 picture of a handsome English lad riding by on a summer 
 morning, singing a brave song, and with all the light of youth 
 and hope and courage shining on his face. 
 
 She rose quickly, and with a sigh, as if she had been 
 dreaming for a time, and forgetting for a moment the sadness 
 of the world. 
 
 " Oh, you asked about a saddle," she said, in a matter-of- 
 fact way. " Yes, I think my father has one. I think I must 
 be going home now, Mr. Roscorla." 
 
 " No, not yet," he said, in a pleading way. " Give me a few 
 more minutes. I mayn't have another chance before you 
 make up your mind, and then, when that is done, I suppose 
 it is all over, so far as persuasion goes. What I am most 
 anxious about is that you should believe there is more affec- 
 tion in my offer than I have actually conveyed in words. 
 Don't imagine it is merely a commonplace bargain I want 
 you to enter into. I hope, indeed, that in time I shall win 
 
THE LAST LOOK BACK. 37 
 
 from you something wanner than affection, if only you give 
 me the chance. Now, Wenna, won't you give me some 
 word of assurance — some hint that it may come all right ? " 
 
 She stood before him, with her eyes cast down, and re- 
 mained silent for what seemed to him a strangely long time. 
 Was she bidding good-bye to all the romantic dreams of her 
 youth — to that craving in a girl's heart for some firm and sure 
 ideal of manly love and courage and devotion to which she 
 can cling through good report and bad report ? Was she rec- 
 onciling herself to the plain and common ways of the mar- 
 ried life placed before her ? She said at length, in a low 
 voice — 
 
 " You won't ask me to leave Eglosilyan ? " 
 
 " Certainly not," he said, eagerly. " And you will see how 
 I will try to join you in all your work there, and how much 
 easier and pleasanter it will be for you, and how much more 
 satisfactory for all the people around you." 
 
 She put out her hand timidly, her eyes still cast down. 
 
 " You will be my wife, Wenna ? " 
 
 "Yes," she said. 
 
 Mr. Roscorla was conscious that he ought at this high mo- 
 ment in a man's life to experience a strange thrill of happi- 
 ness. He almost waited for it ; but he felt instead a very 
 distinct sense of embarrassment in not knowing what to do 
 or say next. He supposed that he ought to kiss her, but he 
 dared not. As he himself had said, Wenna Rosewarne was 
 so fine and shy that he shrank from wounding her extreme 
 sensitiveness ; and to step forward and kiss this quiet and 
 gentle creature, who stood there with her pale face faintly 
 flushed and her eyes averted — why, it was impossible. He 
 had heard of girls, in wild moments of pleasure and persua- 
 sion, suddenly raising their tear-filled eyes to their lover's 
 face, and signing away their whole existence with one full, 
 passionate, and yearning kiss. But to steal a kiss from this 
 calm little girl ? ' He felt he should be acting the part of a 
 jocular ploughboy. 
 
 "Wenna," he said at length, "you have made me very 
 happy. I am sure you will never repent your decision ; at 
 least I shall do my best to make you think you have done 
 right. And, Wenna, I have to dine with the Trelyons on Fri- 
 day evening ; would you allow me to tell them something of 
 what has happened ? " 
 
 " The Trelyons ! " she repeated, looking up in a startled 
 way. 
 
 It was of evil omen for this man man's happiness that the 
 
38 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 mere mention of that word turned this girl, who had just been 
 yielding up her life to him, into a woman as obdurate and 
 unimpressionable as a piece of marble. 
 
 " Mr. Roscorla," she said, with a certain hard decision of 
 voice, " I must ask you to give me back that promise I made. 
 I forgot — it was too hurried ; why would you not wait ? " 
 
 He was fairly stupefied. 
 
 " Mr. Roscorla," she said, with almost something of petu- 
 lant impatience in her voice, " you must let me go now ; I 
 am quite tired out. I will write to you to-morrow or next 
 day, as I promised." 
 
 She passed him and went on, leaving him unable to utter 
 a word of protest. But she had only gone a few steps when 
 she returned, and held out her hand and said — 
 
 " I hope I have not offended you ? It seems that I must 
 offend everybody now; but I am a little tired, Mr. Ros- 
 corla." . 
 
 There was just the least quiver about her lips ; and as all 
 this was a profound mystery to him, he fancied he must have 
 tired her out, and he inwardly called himself a brute. 
 
 " My dear Wenna," he said, "you have not offended me — 
 you have not really. It is I who must apologize to you. I 
 am so sorry I should have worried you ; it is very inconsider- 
 ate. Pray take your own time about that letter." 
 
 So she went away, and passed to the other side of the rocks, 
 and came in view of the small winding harbor, and the mill, 
 and the inn. Far away up there, over the cliffs, were the 
 downs on which she had met Harry Trelyon that summer 
 morning as he rode by, singing in the mere joyousness of 
 youth, and happy and pleased with all the world. She could 
 hear the song he was singing then ; she could see the sun- 
 light that was shining on his face. It appeared to her to be 
 long ago. This girl was but eighteen years of age, and yet, 
 as she walked down towards Eglosilyan there was a weight 
 on her heart that seemed to tell her she was growing old. 
 
 And now the western sky was red with the sunset, and the 
 rich light burned along the crests of the hills, on the golden 
 furze, the purple heather, and the deep-colored rocks. The 
 world seemed all ablaze up there ; but down here, as she 
 went by the harbor and crossed over the bridge by the mill, 
 Eglosilyan lay pale and gray in the hollow ; and even the 
 the great black wheel was silent. 
 
THROWING A FLY. 39 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THROWING A FLY. 
 
 Harry Trelyon had a cousin named Juliott Penaluna, 
 who lived at Penzance with her father, an irascible old 
 clergyman, who, while yet a poor curate, had the good fortune 
 to marry Mrs. Trelyon's sister. Miss Juliott was a handsome, 
 healthy, English-looking girl, with blue eyes and brown hair, 
 frank enough in her ways, fairly well-read, fond of riding and 
 driving, and very specially fond of her cousin. There had 
 never been any concealment about that. Master Harry, too, 
 liked his cousin in a way, as he showed by his rudeness to 
 her ; but he used plainly to tell her that he would not marry 
 her ; whereupon she would be angry with him for his imper- 
 tinence, and end by begging him to be good friends again. 
 
 At last she went, as her mother had done before her, and 
 encouraged the attentions of a fair, blue-eyed, pensive young 
 curate, one who was full of beautiful enthusiasms and ideal- 
 isms, in which he sought to interest the mind of this exceed- 
 ingly practical young woman, who liked cliff-hunting, and 
 had taught herself to swim in the sea. Just before she 
 pledged her future to him she wrote to Harry Trelyon, 
 plainly warning him of what was going to happen. In a 
 fashion she asked for his advice. It was a timid letter for 
 her to write, and she even showed some sentiment in it. 
 The reply, written in a coarse, sprawling, school-boy hand, 
 was as follows : 
 
 " Trelyon . Hall, Monday Afternoon. 
 " Dear Jue, — 
 
 " All right. You're a fool to marry a parson. What 
 would you like for a wedding present ? 
 
 " Affectionately yours, 
 
 " Harry Trelyon. " 
 
 Posts don't go very fast in Cornwall ; but just as soon as 
 a letter from Penzance could reach him, Master Harry had 
 his answer. And it was this : 
 
 " The Hollies, Penzance, Wednesday. 
 " Dear Harry, — 
 
 " I am glad to receive a letter from you in which there is 
 no ill-spelling. There is plenty of ill-temper, however, as 
 usual. You may send your wedding presents to those who 
 care for them : I don't. Juliott Penaluna." 
 
40 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 Master Hairy burst into a roar of laughter when he re- 
 ceived that letter ; but, all the same, he could not get his 
 cousin to write him a line for months thereafter. Now, how- 
 ever, she had come to visit some friends at Wadebridge ; 
 and she agreed to drive over and join Mrs. Trelyon's little 
 dinner-party, to which Mr. Roscorla had also been invited. 
 Accordingly, in the afternoon, when Harry Trelyon was 
 seated on the stone steps outside the Hall door, engaged in 
 making artificial flies, Miss Penaluna drove up in a tiny 
 chariot drawn by a beautiful little pair of ponies ; and when 
 the boy had jumped down and gone to the ponies' heads, and 
 when she had descended from the carriage, Master Harry 
 thought it was time for him to lay aside his silk, rosin, 
 feathers, and what not, and go forward to meet her. 
 
 " How are you, Jue ? " he said, offering to kiss her, as was 
 his custom ; " and where's your young man ?" 
 
 She drew back, offended ; and then she looked at him, and 
 shrugged her shoulders, and gave him her cheek to kiss. 
 He was onlv a boy, after all. 
 
 "Well, Harry, I am not going to quarrel with you," she 
 said, with a good-natured smile ; " although I suppose I shall 
 have plenty of cause before I go. Are you as rude as ever ? 
 Do you talk as much slang as ever ? " 
 
 " I like to hear you talk of slang ! " he said. "Who calls her 
 ponies Brandy and Soda? Weren't you wild, Jue, when 
 Captain Tulliver came up and said, ' Miss Penaluna, how are 
 your dear Almonds and Raisins ? ' " 
 
 " If I had given him a cut with my whip, I should have 
 made him dance," said Miss Juliott, frankly; "then he 
 would have forgotten to turn out his toes. Harry, go and 
 see if that boy has taken in my things." 
 
 " I won't. There's plenty of time ; and I want to talk to 
 you. I say, Jue, what made you go and get engaged down 
 in Penzance ? Why didn't you cast your eye in this direc- 
 tion ? " 
 
 " Well, of all the impertinent things that I ever heard ! " 
 said Miss Juliott, very much inclined to box his ears. " Do 
 you think I ever thought of marrying you ?" 
 
 " Yes, I do," he said, coolly ; " and you would throw over 
 that parson in a minute, if I asked you — you know you would, 
 Jue. But I'm not good enough for you." 
 
 " Indeed, you are not," she said, with a toss of the head. 
 " I would take you for a gamekeeper, but'not for a husband." 
 
 " Much need you'll have of a gamekeeper, when you be- 
 come Mrs. Tressider ! " said he, with a rude laugh. " But I 
 
THROWING A FLY. 41 
 
 didn't mean myself, Jue. I meant that if you were going to 
 marry a parson, you might have come here and had a choice. 
 We can show you all sorts at this house — fat and lean, steeples 
 and beer-barrels, bandy legged and knock-kneed, whichever 
 you like — you'll always find an ample assortment on these 
 elegant premises. The stock is rather low just now — I think, 
 we've only two or three ; but you're supplied already, ain't 
 you, jue ? Well, I never expected it of you. You were a 
 good sort of chap at one time ; but I suppose you can't climb 
 trees any more now. There, I'll let you go into the house ; 
 all the servants are' waiting for you. If you see my grand- 
 mother, tell her she must sit next me at dinner — if a parson 
 sits next me, I'll kill him." 
 
 Just as Miss Juliott passed into the Hall, a tall, fair-haired, 
 gentle-faced woman, dressed wholly in white, and stepping 
 very softly and silently, came down the staircase, so that, 
 in the twilight, she almost appeared to be some angel descend- 
 ing from heaven. She came forward to her visitor with a 
 smile on the pale and wistful face, and took her hand and 
 kissed her on the forehead ; after which, and a few words, 
 of inquiry, Miss Penaluna was handed over to the charge of 
 a maid. The tall, fair woman passed noiselessly on, and 
 went into a chamber at the farther end of the hall, and shut 
 the door ; and presently the low, soft tones of a harmonium 
 were heard, appearing to come from some considerable dis- 
 tance, and yet filling the house with a melancholy and slum- 
 berous music. 
 
 Surely it could not be this gentle music which brought to 
 Master Harry's face a most un-Christian scowl ? What harm 
 could there be in a solitary widow wrapping herself up in her 
 imaginative sorrow, and saturating the whole of her feeble, 
 impressionable, and withal kindly nature with a half-religious, 
 half-poetic sentiment ? What although those days which she 
 devoted to services in memory of her relatives who were dead 
 — and, most of all, in memory of her husband whom she had 
 really loved — resembled, in some respects, the periods in 
 which an opium-eater resolves to give himself up to the strange 
 and beautiful sensations beyond which he can imagine no 
 form of happiness ? Mrs. Trelyon was nothing of a zealot 
 or devotee. She held no particular doctrines ; she did not 
 even countenance High-Church usages, except in :o far as 
 music and painting and dim religious lights aided her en- 
 deavors to produce a species of exalted intoxicati ^1.. She 
 did not believe herself to be a wicked sinner, and s-ie could 
 not understand the earnest convictions and pronou iced the- 
 
42 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 ology of the Dissenters around her. But she drank of religious 
 sentiment as other persons drink in beautiful music ; and all 
 the aids she could bring to bear in producing this feeling 
 of blind ecstasy she had collected together in the private 
 chapel attached to Trelyon Hall. At this very moment she 
 was seated there alone. The last rays of the sun shone 
 through narrow windows of painted glass, and carried beautiful 
 colors with them into the dusk of the curiously furnished little 
 building. She herself sat before a large harmonium, and 
 there was a stain of rose-color and of violet on the white 
 silk costume that she wore. It was one of her notions that, 
 though black might well represent the grief immediately 
 following the funeral of one's friends, pure white was the 
 more appropriate mourning when one had become accustomed 
 to their loss, and had turned one's eyes to the shining realms 
 which they inhabit. Mrs. Trelyon never went out of mourn- 
 ing for her husband, who had been dead over a dozen years ; 
 but the mourning was of pure white ; so that she wandered 
 through the large and empty rooms of Trelyon Hall, or 
 about the grounds outside, like a ghost ; and, like a ghost, 
 she was ordinarily silent and shy and light-footed. She was 
 not much of a companion for the rude, impetuous, self-willed 
 boy whose education she had handed over to grooms and 
 gamekeepers, and to his own very pronounced instincts. 
 
 The frown that came over the lad's handsome face as he 
 sat on the door-step, resuming his task of making trout-flies, 
 was caused by the appearance of a clergyman, who came 
 walking forward from one of the hidden paths in the garden. 
 There was nothing really distressing or repulsive about the 
 look of this gentleman ; although, on the other hand, there 
 was nothing very attractive. He was of middle age and 
 middle height ; he wore a rough brown beard and mous- 
 tache ; his face was gray and full of lines ; his forehead 
 was rather narrow ; and his eyes were shrewd and watch- 
 ful. But for that occasional glance of the eyes you would 
 have taken him for a very ordinary, respectable, com- 
 mon-place person, not deserving of notice, except for the 
 length of his coat. When Master Harry saw him approach, 
 however, a diabolical notion leaped into the young gentle- 
 man's head. He had been practising the throwing of flies 
 against the wind ; and on the lawn were the several pieces 
 of paper, at different distances, at which he had aimed, while 
 the slender trout-rod, with a bit of line and a fly at the end 
 of it still dangling, was close by his hand. Instantaneously 
 he put the rod against the wall, so that the hook was floating 
 
THE AMONG THE TAILORS. 43 
 
 in front of the door just about the height of a man's head. 
 Would the Rev. Mr. Barnes look at the door-steps, rather 
 than in front of him, in passing into the house, and so find an 
 artificial fly fastened in his nose ? Mr. Barnes was no such 
 fool. 
 
 " It is a pleasant afternoon, Mr. Trelyon," he said, in grave 
 and measured accents, as he came up. 
 
 Harry Trelyon nodded, as he smoothed out a bit of red 
 silk thread. Then Mr. Barnes went forward, carefully put 
 aside the dangling fly, and went into the house. 
 
 " The fish won't rise to-night," said Master Harry to him- 
 self, with a grin on his face. " But parsons don't take the 
 fly readily ; you've got to catch them with bait ; and the bait 
 they like best is a widow's mite. And now, I suppose, I 
 must go and dress for dinner ; and don't I wish I was going 
 down to Mrs. Rosewarne's parlor instead ! " 
 
 But another had secured a better right to go into Mrs. 
 Rosewarne's parlor. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE AMONG THE TAILORS. 
 
 This other gentleman was also dressing for Mrs. Trelyon's 
 dinner-party, and he was in a pleased frame of mind. Never 
 before, indeed, had Mr. Roscorla been so distinctly and con- 
 sciously happy. That forenoon, when his anxiety had become 
 almost distressing — partly because he honestly liked Wenna 
 Rosewarne and wanted to marry her, and partly because he 
 feared the mortification of a refusal — her letter had come ; 
 and, as he read the trembling, ingenuous, and not-very-well- 
 composed lines and sentences, a great feeling of satisfaction 
 stole over him, and he thanked her a thousand times, in his 
 heart, for having given him this relief. And he was the more 
 pleased that it was so easy to deal with a written consent. 
 He was under no embarrassment as to how he should express 
 his gratitude, or as to whether he ought to kiss her. He 
 could manage correspondence better than a personal inter- 
 view. He sat down and wrote her a very kind and even 
 affectionate letter, telling her that he would not intrude him- 
 self too soon upon her, especially as he had to go up to 
 Trelyon Hail that evening ; and saying, too, that, in any case, 
 he could never expect to tell her how thankful he was to her. 
 
44 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 That she would discover from his conduct to her during their 
 married life. 
 
 But, to his great surprise, Mr. Roscorla found that the 
 writing and sending off of that letter did not allay the extra- 
 ordinary nervous excitement that had laid hold of him. He 
 could not rest. He called in his housekeeper, and rather 
 astonished that elderly person by saying he was much pleased 
 with her services, and thereupon he presented her with a 
 sovereign to buy a gown. Then he went into the garden, 
 and meant to occupy himself with his flowers ; but he found 
 himself staring at them without seeing them. Then he went 
 back to his parlor and took a glass of sherry to steady his 
 nerves — but in vain. Then he thought he would go down to 
 the inn, and ask to see Wenna ; but again he changed his 
 mind, for how was he to meet the rest of the family without 
 being prepared for the interview ? Probably he never knew 
 how he passed these two or three hours ; but at length the 
 time came for him to dress for dinner. 
 
 And, as he did so, the problem that occupied his mind was 
 to discover the probable reasons that had induced Wenna 
 Rosewarne to promise to be his wife. Had her parents ad- 
 vised her to marry a man who could at least render her future 
 safe ? Or had she taken pity on his loneliness, and been 
 moved by some hope of reforming his ways and habits of 
 thinking ? Or had she been won over by his pictures of her 
 increased influence among the people around her ? He could 
 not tell. Perhaps, he said to himself, she said yes because 
 she had not the courage to say no. Perhaps she had been 
 convinced by his arguments that the wild passion of love, for 
 which youth is supposed to long, is a dangerous thing ; and 
 was there not constantly before her eyes an example of the 
 jealousy and quarrelling and misery that may follow that fatal 
 delirium ? Or it might be — and here Mr. Roscorla more 
 nearly approached the truth — that this shy, sensitive, self-dis- 
 trustful girl had been so surprised to find herself of any im- 
 portance to any one, and so grateful to him for his praise of 
 her, and for this highest mark of appreciation that a man can 
 bestow, that her sudden gratitude softened her heart, and 
 disposed her to yield to his prayer. And who could tell but 
 that this present feeling might lead to a still warmer feeling 
 under the generous influence of a constant kindness and ap- 
 preciation ? It was with something of wonder and almost of 
 dismay — and with a wholly new sense of his unworthiness — 
 that Mr. Roscorla found himself regarding the possibility of his 
 winning a young girl's first love. 
 
THE AMONG THE TAILORS. 45 
 
 Never before in his life — not even in his younger days, 
 when he had got a stray hint that he would probably meet a 
 duchess and her three daughters at a particular party — had he 
 dressed with so much care. He was, on the whole, well 
 pleased with himself. He had to admit that his gray hair 
 was changing to white ; but many people considered white 
 hair, with a hale complexion, rather an ornament than other- 
 wise. For the rest, he resolved that he would never dress 
 again to go to any party to which Miss Wenna Rosewarne was 
 not also invited. He would not decorate himself for mere 
 strangers and acquaintances. 
 
 He put on a light top-coat and went out into the quiet sum- 
 mer evening. There was a scent of roses in the air, and the 
 great Atlantic was beautiful and still ; it was a time for lovers 
 to be walking through twilight woods or in honeysuckle lanes, 
 rather than for a number of people, indifferent to each other, 
 to sit down to the vulgar pleasures of the table. He wished 
 that Wenna Rosewarne had been of that party. 
 
 There were two or three children at his gate — bright-cheek- 
 ed, clean, and well-clad, as all the Eglosilyan children are — 
 and when they saw him come out they ran away. He was 
 ashamed of this ; for, if Wenna had seen it, she would have 
 been grieved. He called on them to come back ; they stood 
 in the road, not sure of him. At length a little woman of six 
 came timidly along to him, and looked at him with her big, 
 wondering blue eyes. He patted her head and asked her 
 name, and then put his hand in his pocket. The others, 
 rinding that their ambassador had not been beheaded on the 
 spot, came up also, and formed a little circle, a cautious yard 
 or two off. 
 
 " Look here ! " he said to the eldest ; " here is a shilling, 
 and you go and buy sweetmeats, and divide them equally 
 among you. Or, wait a bit — come along with me, the whole 
 of you, and we'll see whether Mrs. Cornish has got any cake 
 for you." 
 
 He drove the flock of them into that lady's kitchen, much 
 to her consternation, and there he left them. But he had 
 not got half-way through the little garden again before he 
 returned, and went to the door and called in to the chil- 
 dren — 
 
 " Mind, you can swing on the gate whenever you like, so 
 long as you take care and don't hurt yourselves." 
 
 And so he hurried away again ; and he hoped that some 
 day, when he and W 7 enna Rosewarne were passing, she would 
 
46 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 see the children swinging on his gate, and she would be 
 pleased that they did not run away. 
 
 " Your Polly has never been false, she declares — " 
 
 he tried to hum the air, as he had often heard Wenna hum it, 
 as he walked rapidly down the hill, and along a bit of the 
 valley, and then up' one of the great gorges lying behind 
 Eglosilyan. He had avoided the road that went by the inn ; 
 he did not wish to see any of the Rosewarnes just then. 
 Moreover, his rapid walking was not to save time, for he had 
 plenty of that ; but to give himself the proud assurance that 
 he was still in excellent wind. Miss Wenna must not imagine 
 that she was marrying an old man. Give him but as good a 
 horse as Harry Trelyon's famous Dick, and he would ride 
 that dare-devil young gentleman for a wager to Launceston 
 and back. Why, he had only arrived at that period when a 
 sound constitution reaches its maturity. Old, or even elderly ? 
 He switched at weeds with his cane, and was conscious that 
 he was in the prime of life. 
 
 At the same time, he did not like the notion of younger 
 men than himself lounging about Mrs. Rosewarne's parlor ; 
 and he thought he might just as well give Harry Trelyon a 
 hint that W'enna Rosewarne was engaged. An excellent op- 
 portunity was offered him at this moment, for as he went up 
 through the grounds to the front of the Hall he found Master 
 Harry industriously throwing a fly at certain bits of paper on 
 the lawn. He had resumed this occupation, after having 
 gone inside and dressed, as a handy method of passing the 
 time until his cousin Juliott should appear. 
 
 " How do you do, Trelyon ? " said Mr. Roscorla, in a 
 friendly way; and Harry nodded. "I wish I could throw a 
 fly like you. By the bye, I have a little bit of news for you — 
 for yourself alone, mind." 
 
 " All right ; fire away," said Master Harry, still making the 
 fine line of the trout-rod whistle through the air. 
 
 " Well, it is rather a delicate matter, you know. I don't 
 want it talked about ; but the fact is, I am going to marry 
 Miss Rosewarne." 
 
 There was no more aiming at those bits of paper. The 
 tall and handsome lad turned and stared at his companion as 
 if the latter had been a maniac ; and then he said — 
 
 " Miss Rosewarne ? Wenna Rosewarne ? " 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Roscorla, distinctly conscious that Harry 
 Trelyon was regarding his white hair and general appearance. 
 
 The vounger man said nothing more, but began to whistle in 
 
THE AMONG THE TAILORS. 47 
 
 an absent way ; and then, just as if Mr. Roscorla had no ex- 
 istence whatever, he proceeded to reel in the line of his rod, 
 he fastened the fly to one of the rings, and then walked off. 
 
 " You'll find my mother inside," he said ; and so Mr. Ros- 
 corla went into the Hall, and was soon in Mrs. Trelyon's 
 drawing-room, among her six or eight guests. 
 
 Harry Trelyon did not appear until dinner was announced ; 
 and then he was just in time to take his grandmother in. He 
 took care, also, to have his cousin Juliott on his other side ; 
 and to both of these ladies it was soon apparent that some- 
 thing had occurred to put Master Harry into one of his most 
 ungovernable moods. 
 
 " Harry ? " said his mother, from the other end of the table, 
 as an intimation that he should say grace. 
 
 There was no response, despite Miss Juliott's appealing 
 look ; and so Mrs. Trelyon had to turn for assistance to one 
 of the clergymen near her, who went through the prescribed 
 form. 
 
 " Isn't it shocking ? " said Miss Penaluna, across the table, 
 to Harry's grandmother, who was not nearly so severe on him 
 for such conduct as she ought to have been. 
 
 "Grace before meat takes too much for granted," said the 
 young man unconcernedly. " How can you tell whether you 
 are thankful until you see what sort of dinner it is ? And 
 what's the use of keeping a dog and barking yourself ? Ain't 
 there three parsons down there ? " 
 
 Miss Juliott, being engaged to a clergyman, very naturally 
 resented this language ; and the two cousins had rather a 
 stormy fight, at the end of which Master Harry turned to his 
 grandmother and declared that she was the only woman of 
 common-sense he had ever known. 
 
 " Well, it runs in the blood, Harry," said the old lady, 
 " that dislike to clergymen ; and I never could find out any 
 reason for it, except when your grandfather hunted poor Mr. 
 Pascoe that night. Dear, dear! what a jealous man your 
 grandfather was, to be sure ; and the way he used to pet me 
 when I told him I never saw the man I'd look at after seeing 
 him. Dear, dear ! — and the day he sold those two manors to 
 the Company, you know, he came back at night and said I 
 was as good a wife as any in England — he did, indeed — and 
 the bracelet he gave me then, that shall go to your wife on 
 your wedding-day, Harry, I promise you, and you won't find 
 its match about this part of the country, I can tell you. But 
 don't you go and sell the lordship of Trelyon. Many a time 
 your grandfather was asked to sell it, and he did well by sell- 
 
48 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 ing the other two ; but Trelyon he would never sell, nor your 
 father, and I hope you won't either, Harry. Let them work 
 the quarries for you — that is fair enough — and give you your 
 royalty ; but don't part with Trelyon, Harry, for you might as 
 well be parting with your own name." 
 
 " Well, I can't, grandmother, you know ; but I am fearfully 
 in want of a big lump of money, all the same." 
 
 " Money ? what do you want with a lot of money ? You're 
 not going to take to gambling or horse-racing, are you ? " 
 
 "I can't tell you what I want it for — not at present, any- 
 way," said the lad, looking rather gloomy ; and with that the 
 subject dropped, and a brief silence ensued at that end of 
 the table. 
 
 Mr. Tressider, however, the mild and amiable young curate 
 to whom Miss Juliott was engaged, having been rather left 
 out in the cold, struck in at this moment, blushing slightly : 
 
 " I heard you say something about lordships of manors," 
 he observed, addressing himself rather to Trelyons grand- 
 mother. " Did it ever occur to you what a powerful thing a 
 word from William the Conqueror must have been, when it 
 could give to a particular person and his decendants absolute 
 possession of a piece of the globe ? " 
 
 Mrs. Trelyon stared at the young man. Had a relative 
 of hers gone and engaged herself to a dangerous Revolution- 
 ary, who, in the guise of a priest, dared to trifle with the ten- 
 ure of land? Mr. Tressider was as innocent of any such 
 intention as the babe unborn ; but he was confused by her 
 look of astonishment, he blushed more violently than before, 
 and only escaped from his embarrassment by the good servi 
 ces of Miss Penaluna, who turned the whole matter into ridi- 
 cule, and asked what William the Conqueror was about when 
 he let a piece of the world come into the hands of Harry 
 Trelyon. 
 
 " And how deep down have you a hold on it, Harry ? " she 
 said. "How far does your right over the minerals extend ? 
 From the surface right down to the centre ? '* 
 
 Mr. Tressider was smiling vaguely when Master Harry's 
 eye fell upon him. What harm had the young clergyman, 
 or any other clergyman present, clone him that he should 
 have felt a sudden dislike to that ingenuous smile? 
 
 " Oh, no," said Trelyon, with a careless impertinence ; 
 " William the Conqueror did not allow the rights of the lord 
 of the manor to extend right down to the middle of the earth. 
 There were a good many clergymen about him, and they re- 
 served that district for their own purposes." 
 
THE AMONG THE TAILORS. 49 
 
 " Harry," said his cousin to him, in a low voice ; " is it 
 your wish to insult me ? If so, I will leave the room." 
 
 " Insult you ? " he said, with a laugh. " Why, jue, you 
 must be out of your senses. What concern have you in that 
 warmish region ? " 
 
 " I don't appreciate jokes on such subjects. My father is 
 a clergyman, my husband will be a clergyman — " 
 
 " Worse luck for you," he observed frankly, but so that 
 no one could hear. 
 
 " Harry," she said, " what do you mean by your dislike to 
 clergymen ? " 
 
 " Is that a conundrum ? " said, the unregenerate youth. 
 
 For a moment Miss Penaluna seemed really vexed and an- 
 gry ; but she happened to look at Master Harry, and, some- 
 how, her displeasure subsided into a look of good-natured 
 resignation. There was the least little shrug of the shoulders ; 
 and then she turned to her neighbor on the right, and began 
 to talk about ponies. 
 
 It was certainly not a pleasant dinner-party for those who 
 sat near this young gentleman, who was more outrageously 
 capricious than ever, except when addressing his grand- 
 mother, to whom he was always courteous, and even roughly 
 affectionate. That old lady eyed him narrowly, and could 
 not quite make out what was the matter. Had he been pri- 
 vately engaged in some betting transaction that he should 
 want this money ? 
 
 When the ladies left the room, Trelyon asked Mr. Ros- 
 corla to take his place for a few minutes, and send round the 
 wines ; and then he went out and called his mother aside 
 into the study. 
 
 " Mother," he said, " Mr. Roscorla is going to marry 
 W r enna Rosewarne." 
 
 The tall, fair, pale lady did not seem much startled by the 
 news. She had very little acquaintance with the affairs of 
 the village ; but she knew at least that the Rosewarnes kept 
 the inn, and she had, every Sunday morning seen Mrs. Rose- 
 warne and her two daughters come into church. 
 
 " That is the elder one, is it not, who sings in the choir ? " 
 
 " It's the elder one," said Master Harry, who knew less 
 about the choir. 
 
 " It is a strange choice for Mr. Roscorla to make," she ob- 
 served. " I have always considered him very fastidious, and 
 rather proud of his family. But some men take strange fan- 
 cies in choosing a wife." 
 
 " Yes, and some women take precious strange fancies in 
 4 
 
50 THREE EEA THEP.S. 
 
 choosing a husband," said the young man, rather warmly. 
 " Why, she's worth twenty dozen of him. I don't know what 
 the dickens made her listen to the old fool — it is a monstrous 
 shame, that's what I call it. I suppose he's frightened the 
 girl into it, or bought over her father, or made himself a hypo- 
 crite, and got some person to intercede and scheme and tell 
 lies for him." 
 
 " Harry," said his mother, " I don't understand why you 
 should interest yourself in the matter." 
 
 " Oh ! well, it's only this — that I consider that girl to be the 
 best sort of woman I've met yet — that's all ; and I'll tell you 
 what I mean to do, mother — I mean to give her five thousand 
 pounds, so that she sha'n't come to that fellow in a dependent 
 way, and let him give himself airs over her because he's been 
 born a gentleman." 
 
 " Five thousand pounds ! " Mrs. Trelyon repeated, wonder- 
 ing whether her son had drunk too much wine at dinner. 
 
 "Well, but look here, mother," he said, quite prepared for her 
 astonishment. "You know I've spent very little — I've never 
 spent anything like what I'm entitled to ; and next year I 
 shall be of age ; and all I want now is for you to help me to 
 get a release, you know ; and I am sure I shall be able to 
 persuade Colonel Ransome to it, for he'll see it is not any 
 bit of extravagance on my part — speculation, or anything of 
 that sort, you know — " 
 
 " My dear child," said Mrs. Trelyon, startled, for once, into 
 earnestness, " you will make people believe you are mad. To 
 give five thousand pounds to the daughter of an innkeeper, a 
 perfect stranger, as a marriage dowry — why, Harry, what do 
 you think people would say of such a thing ? W 7 hat would 
 they say of her ? " 
 
 He looked puzzled for a moment, as though he did not un- 
 derstand her. It was but for a moment. " If you mean 
 what one of those parsons would say of her," he said, impet- 
 uously, while a sudden flash of anger sprang to his face, " I don't 
 care ; but my answer to it would be to kick him around the 
 grounds and out at the gate. Do you think I'd care a brass 
 farthing for anything these cringing sneaks might say of her, 
 or of me, or of anybody ? And would they dare to say it if 
 you asked her here, and made a friend of her ? " 
 
 " Make a friend of her ! " repeated Mrs. Trelyon, almost 
 mechanically. She did not know what length this terrible 
 son of hers might not go. 
 
 " If she is not going to marry a friend of yours, why not ? " 
 
 " Harry, you are most unreasonable — if you will think it 
 
THE AMONG THE TAILORS. 51 
 
 over for a moment, you will see how this is impossible. If 
 Mr. Roscorla marries this girl, that is his own affair ; he will 
 have society enough at home, without wishing to go out and 
 dine. He is doing it with his eyes open, you may be sure : 
 he has far more knowledge of such affairs than you can have. 
 How could I single out this girl from her family to make her 
 a friend ? I should have to ask her parents and her sister to 
 come also, unless you wish her to come here on sufferance, 
 and throw a reflection on them." 
 
 She spoke quite calmly, but he would not listen to her. 
 He chafed and fidgeted, and said, as soon as she had fin- 
 ished — 
 
 " You could do it very well, if you liked. When a woman 
 is willing she can always smooth matters down." 
 
 Mrs. Trelyon flushed slightly, and said, with clear empTia- 
 sis — 
 
 " I presume that I am best fitted to say what society I shall 
 keep ; and I shall have no acquaintance thrust upon me whom 
 I would rather not recognize." 
 
 " Oh, very well," said the lad, with the proud lips giving 
 evidence of some sudden decision. " And you won't help 
 me to get that five thousand pounds ? " 
 
 " I will not. I will not countenance any such folly." 
 " Then I shall have to raise the money myself." 
 He rang a bell, and a servant appeared. 
 " Tell Jakes to saddle Dick and bring him around directly." 
 His mother let him have his own way, without word or 
 question ; for she was deeply offended, and her feeble and sen- 
 sitive nature had risen in protest against his tyranny. He went 
 off to put on a pair of riding-boots and a top-coat ; and by and by 
 he came down into the hall again, and went to the door. 
 The night was dark, but clear ; there was a blaze of stars over- 
 head ; all the world seemed to be quivering with those white 
 throbs of fire. The horse and groom stood at the door, their 
 dusky figures being scarcely blacker than the trees and bushes 
 around. Harry Trelyon buttoned up the collar of his light 
 top-coat, took his switch in his hand, and sprung into the 
 saddle. At the same moment the white figure of a lady sud- 
 denly appeared at the door, and came down a step or two, 
 and said — 
 
 " Harry, where are you going ? " 
 
 "To Plymouth first," the young man answered, as he 
 rode off, " to London afterwards, and then to the devil ! " 
 
52 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 SOME NEW EXPERIENCES. 
 
 When the first shock of fear and anxiety was over, 
 Wenna Rosewarne discovered to her great delight that her 
 engagement was a very pleasant thing. The ominous doubts 
 and regrets that had beset her mind when she was asked to 
 become Mr. Roscorla's wife seemed to disappear like clouds 
 from a morning sky ; and then followed a fair and happy 
 day, full of abundant satisfaction and calm. With much in- 
 ward ridicule of her own vanity, she found herself nursing 
 a notion of her self-importance, and giving herself airs as if 
 she were already a married woman. Although the engage- 
 ment w r as kept a profound secret, the mere consciousness 
 that she had attained to this position in the world lent a 
 new assurance to her as she went about the village. She 
 was gifted with a new authority over despondent mothers 
 and fractious children and selfish fathers as she went her 
 daily rounds ; and even in her own home Wenna had more 
 attention paid to her, now that she was going to marry Mr. 
 Roscorla. 
 
 There was but one dissentient, and that was Mabyn Rose- 
 warne, who fumed and fretted about the match, and some- 
 times was like to cry over it, and at other times grew 
 vastly indignant, and would have liked to have gone and 
 given Mr. Roscorla a bit of her mind. She pitied her 
 poor weak sister for having been coaxed into an engage- 
 ment by this designing old man ; and the poor weak sister 
 was vastly amused by her compassion, and was too good- 
 natured to laugh at the valiant protection which this coura- 
 geous young creature of sixteen offered her. Wenna let her 
 sister say what she pleased about her herself or her future, 
 and used no other argument to stop angry words than a 
 kiss, so long as Mabyn spoke respectfully of Mr. Roscorla. 
 But this was precisely what Miss Mabyn was disinclined to do ; 
 and the consequence was that their interviews were generally 
 ended by Wenna becoming indignant, drawing herself up, 
 and leaving the room. Then Mabyn would follow, and make 
 up the quarrel, and promise never to offend again ; but ail 
 the same she cherished a deadly animosity towards Mr. 
 Roscorla in her heart, and, when her sister was not present, 
 she amused her father and shocked her mother by giving a 
 
SOME NEW EXPERIENCES. 53 
 
 series of imitations of Mr. Roscorla's manner which that 
 gentleman would scarcely like to have seen. 
 
 The young lady, however, soon invented what she consid- 
 ered a far more effectual means of revenging herself on 
 Mr. Roscorla. She never left Wenna's side. No sooner 
 did the eldest sister prepare to go out, than Miss Mabyn 
 discovered that she too would like a walk ; and she so 
 persistently did this that Wenna soon took it for granted 
 that her sister would go with her wherever she went, and 
 invariably waited for her. Accordingly Mr. Roscorla never 
 by any chance went walking with Wenna Rosewarne alone ; 
 and the younger sister — herself too sulky to enter into 
 conversation with him— used to enjoy the malicious pleasure 
 of watching him shape his talk to suit the presence of a 
 third person. For of course Miss Mabyn had read in books 
 of the beautiful manner in which lovers speak to each 
 other, and of their tender confidences as they sit by the sea 
 or go rambling through the summer woods. Was not the 
 time opportune for these idyllic ways? All the uplands 
 were yellowed with tall-standing corn ; the sea was as blue 
 and as still as the sky overhead ; the gardens of Eglosilyan 
 were sweet with honeysuckle and moss-roses, and in the 
 evenings a pale pink mist hung around the horizon, while 
 the silver sickle of the moon came up into the violet sky, 
 and the first pale stars appeared in the east. 
 
 " If our Wenna had a proper sort of lover," Miss Mabyn 
 used to say to herself, bitterly, " wouldn't I scheme to have 
 them left alone ? I would watch for them like a watch-dog 
 that no one should come near them, and I should be as 
 proud of him as W T enna herself ; and how happy she would 
 be in talking to me about him ! But this horrid old wretch 
 — I wish he would fall over Black Cliff some day ! " 
 
 She was not aware that, in becoming the constant com- 
 panion of her sister, she was affording this dire enemy of 
 hers a vast amount of relief. Mr. Roscorla was in every 
 way satisfied with his engagement; the more he saw of 
 Wenna Rosewarne, the more he admired her utter self- 
 forge tfulness, and liked a quaint and shy sort of humor that 
 interfused her talk and her ways ; but he greatly preferred 
 not to be alone with her. He was then beset by some 
 vague impression that certain things were demanded of him, 
 in the character of a lover, which were exceedingly embar- 
 rassing; and which, if he did not act the part well, might 
 awaken her ridicule. On the other hand, if he admitted all 
 those things, might she not be surprised by his lack of 
 
54 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 affection, begin to suspect him, and end in disliking him ? 
 Yet he knew that not for ten thousand worlds could he 
 muster up courage to repeat one line of sentimental poetry 
 to her. 
 
 As yet he had never even had the courage to kiss her. He 
 knew that this was wrong. In his own house he reflected 
 that a man engaged to a woman ought surely to give her 
 some such mark of affection — say, in bidding her good-night ; 
 and thereupon Mr. Roscorla would resolve that as he left 
 the inn that evening he would endeavor to kiss his future 
 bride. He never succeeded. Somehow Wenna always parted 
 from him in a merry mood. These were pleasant evenings 
 in Mrs. Rosewarne's parlor ; there was a good deal of quiet 
 fun going on ; and if Wenna did come along the passage to 
 the door with him, she was generally talking and laughing all 
 the way. Of course he was not going to kiss her in that 
 mood — as if, to use his own expression, he had been a jocu- 
 lar ploughboy. 
 
 He had kissed her hand once. That was on his first meet- 
 ing her after she had written the letter in which she promised 
 to be his wife, and Mrs. Rosewarne had sent him into the 
 room where she knew her daughter was alone. Wenna rose 
 up to meet him, pale, frightened, with her eyes downcast. He 
 took her hand and kissed it ; and then, after a pause, he said, 
 " I hope I shall make you happy." She could not answer. 
 She began to tremble violently. He asked her to sit 
 down, and begged of her not to be disturbed. She was 
 recalled to herself by the accidental approach of her 
 sister Mabyn, who came along the passage, singing, "Oh, 
 the men of merry, merry England," in excellent imitation of 
 the way in which Harry Trelyon used to sing that once famous 
 song as he rode his black horse along the highways. Mabyn 
 came into the room, stared, and would have gone out, but 
 that her sister called to her and asked her to come and hold 
 down a pattern while she cut some cloth. Mabyn wondered 
 that her sister should be so diligent when a visitor was present. 
 She saw, too, that Wenna's fingers trembled. Then she re- 
 mained in the room until Mr. Roscorla went, sitting by the 
 window and not overhearing their conversation, but very much 
 inclined' to break in upon it by asking him how he dared to 
 come there and propose to marry her sister Wenna. 
 
 " Oh, Wenna," she said, one evening some time after, when 
 the two sisters were sitting out on the rocks at the end of the 
 harbor, watching the sun go down behind the sea, " I cannot 
 bear him coming to take you away like that. I shouldn't 
 
SOME NEW EXPERIENCES. 55 
 
 mind if he were like a sweetheart to you ; but he's a multi- 
 plication-table sort of sweetheart — everything so regular and 
 accurate and proper. I hate a man who always thinks what 
 he's going to say, and always has neat sentences ; and he 
 watches you, and is so self-satisfied, and his information is 
 always so correct. Oh, Wenna, I wish you had a young and 
 beautiful lover, like a Prince ! " 
 
 " My dear child," said the elder sister, with a smile, " young 
 and beautiful lovers are for young and beautiful girls, like 
 you." 
 
 " Oh, Wenna, how can you talk like that ! " said the younger 
 sister ; " why will you always believe that you are less pretty 
 than other people, when every one knows that you have the 
 most beautiful eyes in all the world. You have ! There's 
 not anybody in all the world has such beautiful and soft eyes 
 as you — you ask anybody and they will tell you, if you don't 
 believe me. But I have no doubt — I have no doubt whatever 
 — that Mr. Roscorla will try to make you believe that you are 
 very ugly, so that you mayn't think you've thrown yourself 
 away." 
 
 Miss Mabyn looked very indignant, and very much inclined 
 to cry at the same time ; but the gentle sister put her hand 
 on hers, and said — 
 
 "You will make me quarrel with you some day, Mabyn, if 
 you are so unjust to Mr. Roscorla. You are continually ac- 
 cusing him of things of which he never dreams. Now he never 
 gets a chance that he does not try to praise me in every way, 
 and if there were no looking-glasses in the world I have no 
 doubt he would make me believe I was quite lovely ; and you 
 shouldn't say those things of him, Mabyn — it isn't fair. He 
 always speaks kindly of you. He thinks you are very pretty, 
 and that you will grow up to be very beautiful when you be- 
 come a woman." 
 
 Mabyn was not to be pacified by this ingenuous piece of 
 flattery. 
 
 "You are such a simpleton, Wenna," she said, "he can 
 make you believe anything." 
 
 " He does not try to make me believe anything I don't 
 know already," said the elder sister, with some asperity. 
 
 " He tries to make you believe he is in love with you," 
 said Mabyn, bluntly. 
 
 Wenna Rosewarne colored up, and was silent for a min- 
 ute. How was she to explain to this sister of hers all those 
 theories which Mr. Roscorla had described to her in his first 
 
S 6 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 two or three letters ? She felt that she had not the same 
 gift of expression that he had. 
 
 " You don't understand — you don't understand at all, Ma- 
 byn, what you talk of as love. I suppose you mean the sort 
 of wild madness you read of in books ; well, I don't want 
 that kind of love at all. There is a quite different sort of 
 love, that comes of respect and affection and an agreement 
 of wishes, and that is far more valuable and likely to be last- 
 ing. I don't want a lover who would do wild things, and 
 make one wonder at his heroism, for that is the lover you get 
 in books ; but if you want to live a happy life, and please 
 those around you, and be of service to them, you must have 
 a very different sort of sweetheart — a man who will think of 
 something else than a merely selfish passion, who will help 
 you to be kind to other people, and whose affection will last 
 through years and years." 
 
 " You have learned your lesson very well," said Miss Ma- 
 byn, with a toss of her head. " He has spent some time in 
 teaching you. But as for all that, Wenna, it's nothing but 
 fudge. What a girl wants is to be really loved by a man, 
 and then she can do without all those fine sentiments. As 
 for Mr. Roscorla — " 
 
 " I do not think we are likely to agree on this matter, 
 dear," said Wenna, calmly, as she rose, "and* so we had bet- 
 ter say nothing about it." 
 
 " Oh, I am not going to quarrel with you, Wenna," said 
 the younger sister, promptly. "You and I will always agree 
 very well. It is Mr. Roscorla and I who are not likely to 
 agree very well — not at all likely, I can assure you." 
 
 They were walking back to Eglosilyan, under the clear 
 evening skies, when whom should they see coming out to 
 meet them but Mr. Roscorla himself. It was a pleasant 
 time and place for lovers to come together. The warm light 
 left by the sunset still shone across the hills ; the clear blue- 
 green water in the tiny harbor lay perfectly still ; Eglosilyan 
 had got it's day's work over, and was either chatting in the 
 cottage gardens or strolling clown to have a look at the 
 couple of coasters moored behind the small but powerful 
 breakwater. But Mr. Roscorla had had no hope of discov- 
 ering Wenna alone ; he was quite as well content to find 
 Mabyn with her, though that young lady, as he came up, 
 looked particularly fierce, and did not smile at all when she 
 shook hands with him. Was it the red glow in the west that 
 gave an extra tinge of color to Roscorla's face ? Wenna felt 
 that she was better satisfied with her engagement when her 
 
WENNA' S FIRST TRIUMPH. 57 
 
 lover was not present ; but she put that down to a natural 
 shyness and modesty which she considered was probably 
 common to all girls in these strange circumstances. 
 
 Mr. Roscorla wished to convey the two young ladies back 
 to the inn, and evidently meant to spend the evening there. 
 But Miss Wenna ill requited his gallantry by informing him 
 that she had intended to make one or two calls in the eve- 
 ning, which would occupy some time : in particular, she had 
 undertaken to do something for Mrs. Luke's eldest girl ; and 
 she had also promised to go in and read for half an hour to 
 Nicholas Keam, the brother of the wife of the owner of the 
 Napoleon Hotel, who was very ill indeed, and far too languid 
 to read for himself. 
 
 " But you know, Mr. Roscorla," said Mabyn, with a bitter 
 malice, " If you would go into the Napoleon and read to Mr. 
 Keam, Wenna and I could go up to Mother Luke's and so 
 we should save all that time, and I am sure Wenna is very 
 tired to-day. Then you would be so much better able to 
 pick out the things in the papers that Mr. Keam wants ; for 
 Wenna never knows what is old and what is new, and Mr. 
 Keam is anxious to learn what is going on in politics, and the 
 Irish Church, and that kind of thing." 
 
 Could he refuse ? Surely a man who has just got a girl to 
 say she will marry him ought not to think twice about sacri- 
 ficing half an hour to helping her in her occupations, espe- 
 cially if she be tired. Wenna could not have made the re- 
 quest herself ; but she was anxious that he should say yes, 
 now it had been made, for it was in a manner a test of his 
 devotion to her ; and she was overjoyed and most grateful 
 to him when he consented. What Mabyn thought of the 
 matter was not visible on her face. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 wenna's first triumph. 
 
 The two girls, as they went up the main street of Eglosil- 
 yan (it was sweet with the scent of flowers on this beautiful 
 evening), left Mr. Roscorla in front of the obscure little pub- 
 lic-house he had undertaken to visit ; and it is probable that 
 in the whole of England at that moment there was not a 
 more miserable man. He knew this Nicholas Keam, and 
 his sister, and lv' c brother-in-law, so far as their names went, 
 
58 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 and they knew him by sight ; but he had never said more 
 than good-morning to any one of them, and he had certainly 
 never entered this pot-house, where a sort of debating society 
 was nightly held by the habitues. But, all the same, he 
 would do what he had undertaken to do, for Wenna Rose- 
 warne's sake ; and it was with some sensation of a despair- 
 ing heroism that he went up the steps of slate and crossed 
 the threshold. 
 
 He looked into the place from the passage. He found 
 before him what was really a large kitchen, with a spacious 
 fireplace, and heavy rafters across the roof ; but all around 
 the walls there was a sort of bench with a high wooden back 
 to it, and on this seat sat a number of men — one or two 
 laborers, the rest slate-workers — who, in the dusk, were idly 
 smoking and looking at the beer on the narrow tables before 
 them. Was this the sort of place that his future wife had 
 been in the habit of visiting ? There was a sort of gloomy 
 picturesqueness about the chamber, to be sure ; for, warm 
 as the evening w r as, a fire burned flickeringly in the grate ; 
 there was enough light to show the tin and copper vessels 
 shining over the high mantel-piece ; and a couple of fair- 
 haired children were playing about the middle of the floor, 
 little heeding the row of dusky figures around the tables, 
 whose heads were half hidden by tobacco-smoke. 
 
 A tall, thin, fresh-colored woman came along the passage ; 
 and Mr. Roscorla was glad that he had not to go in among 
 these laborers to make his business known. It was bad 
 enough to have to speak to Mrs. Haigh, the landlady of the 
 Napoleon. 
 
 " Good-morning, Mrs. Haigh," said he with an appearance 
 of cheerfulness. 
 
 " Good-evenin', zor," said she, staring at him with those 
 cruelly shrewd and clear eyes that the Cornish peasantry 
 have. 
 
 " I called in to see Mr. Ream," said he. " Is he much 
 better ? " 
 
 " If yii'd like vor to see'n, zor," said she rather slowly, as 
 if waiting for further explanation, yii'll vind'n in the rum " 
 — and with that she opened the door of a room on the other 
 side of the passage. It was obviously the private parlor of 
 the household — an odd little chamber with plenty of colored 
 lithographs on the walls, and china and photographs on the 
 mantel-piece ; the floor of large blocks of slate ornamented 
 with various devices in chalk ; in the corner a cupboard filled 
 with old cut crystal, brass candlesticks, and other articles of lux 
 
WENNA'S FIRST TRIUMPH. 59 
 
 ury. The room had one occupant — a tall man who sat in a 
 big wooden chair by the window, his head hanging forward 
 between his high shoulders, and his thin white hands on the 
 arms of the chair. The sunken cheeks, the sallow-white 
 complexion, the listless air, and an occasional sigh of resig- 
 nation, told a sufficiently plain story ; although Mrs. Haigh, 
 in regarding her brother, and speaking to him in a low voice, 
 as if to arouse his attention, wore an air of brisk cheerfulness 
 strangely in contrast with the worn look of his face. 
 
 " Don't yii knaw Mr. Roscorla, brother Nicholas ? " said 
 his sister. " Don't yu' look mazed, when he's come vor to 
 zee if yii're better. And yii be much better to-day, brother 
 Nicholas ? " 
 
 " Yes, I think," said the sick man, agreeing with his sister 
 out of mere listlessness. 
 
 " Oh yes, I think you look much better," said Mr. Ros- 
 corla, hastily and nervously, for he feared that both these 
 people would see in his face what he thought of this unhappy 
 man's chances of living. But Nicholas Keam mostly kept 
 his eyes turned towards the floor, except when the brisk, 
 loud voice of his sister roused him and caused him to look 
 up. 
 
 A most awkward pause ensued. Mr. Roscorla felt con- 
 vinced they would think he was mad if he offered to sit down 
 in this parlor and read the newspapers to the invalid ; he for- 
 got that they did not know him as well as he did himself. 
 On the other hand would they not consider him a silly per- 
 son if he admitted that he only made the offer in order to 
 please a girl ? Besides, he could see no newspapers in the 
 room. Fortunately, at this moment Mr. Keam himself came 
 to the rescue by saying, in a slow and languid way — 
 
 " I did expect vor to zee Miss Rosewarne this evenin' — 
 yaas, I did ; and she were to read me the news ; but I sup- 
 pose now — " 
 
 " Oh ! " said Mr. Roscorla, quickly, " I have just seen Miss 
 Rosewarne — she told me she expected to see you, but was a 
 little tired. Now, if you like, I will read the newspapers to 
 you as long as the light lasts." 
 
 "Why don't yii thank the gentleman, brother Nicholas ? " 
 said Mrs. Haigh, who was apparently most anxious to get away 
 to her duties. " That be very kind of yii, zor. 'Tis a great 
 comfort to 'n to hear the news ; and I'll send yii in the papers 
 at once. Yii com away with me, Rosana, and yii can come 
 agwain and bring the gentleman the newspapers." 
 
 She dragged off with her a small girl who had wandered 
 
6o THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 in ; and Mr. Roscorla was left alone with the sick man. The 
 feelings in his heart were not those which Wenna would 
 have expected to find there as the result of the exercise of 
 charity. 
 
 The small girl came back, and gave him the newspaper. 
 He began to read ; she sat down before him and stared up 
 into his face. Then a brother of hers came in, and he, too, 
 sat down, and proceeded to stare. Mr. Roscorla inwardly 
 began to draw pictures of the astonishment of certain of his 
 old acquaintances if they had suddenly opened that small 
 door, and found him, in the parlor of an ale-house, reading 
 stale political articles to an apparently uninterested invalid 
 and a couple of cottage children. 
 
 He was thankful that the light was rapidly declining ; and 
 long before he had reached the half-hour he made that 
 his excuse for going. 
 
 "The next time 1 come, Mr. Keam," said he, cheerfully, as 
 he rose and took his hat, " I shall come earlier." 
 
 "I did expect vor to zee Miss Rosewarne this evenin','' 
 said Nicholas Keam, ungratefully paying no heed to the 
 hypocritical offer ; " vor she were here yesterday marnin', 
 and she told me that Mr. Trelyon had zeen my brother in 
 London streets, and I want vor to know mower about 'n. 
 I dii." 
 
 " She told you ? " Mr. Roscorla said, with a sudden and 
 wild suspicion filling his mind. "How did she know that 
 Mr. Trelyon was in London ? " 
 
 " How did she knaw ? "repeated the sick man, indolently. 
 "Why, he zaid zo in the letter." 
 
 So Mr. Trelyon whose whereabouts were not even known 
 to his own family, was in correspondence with Miss Rose- 
 warne, and she had carefully concealed the fact from the 
 man she was going to marry. Mr. Roscorla rather absently 
 took his leave. When he went outside a clear twilight was 
 shining over Eglosilyan, and the first of the yellow stars were 
 palely visible in the gray. He walked slowly down towards 
 the inn. 
 
 If Mr. Roscorla had any conviction on any subject what- 
 ever, it was this — that no human being ever thoroughly 
 and without reserve revealed himself or herself to any 
 other human being. Of course he did not bring that as 
 a charge against the human race, or against that member 
 of it from whose individual experience he had derived his the- 
 ory — himself; he merely accepted this thing as one of the 
 facts of life. People, he considered, might be fairly honest, 
 
WENNA'S FIRST TRIUMPH. 6x 
 
 well-intentioned, and moral ; but inside the circle of their 
 actions and sentiments that were openly declared there was 
 another circle only known to themselves ; and to this region 
 the foul bird of suspicion, as soon as it was born, immedi- 
 ately fled on silent wings. Not that, after a minute's con- 
 sideration, he suspected anything very terrible in the present 
 case. He was more vexed than alarmed. And yet at 
 times, as he slowly walked down the steep street, he grew a 
 little angry, and wondered how this apparently ingenuous 
 creature should have concealed from him her correspon- 
 dence with Harry Trelyon, and resolved that he would have 
 a speedy explanation of the whole matter. He was too 
 shrewd a man of the world to be tricked by a girl, or trifled 
 with by an impertinent lad. 
 
 He was overtaken by the two girls, and they walked 
 together the rest of the way. Wenna was in excellent 
 spirits, and was very kind and grateful to him. Somehow, 
 when he heard her low and sweet laughter, and saw the frank 
 kindness of her dark eyes, he abandoned the gloomy sus- 
 picions that had crossed his mind ; but he still considered 
 that he had been injured, and that the injury was all the 
 greater in that he had just been persuaded into making 
 a fool of himself for Wenna Rosewarne's sake. 
 
 He said nothing to her, then, of course ; and, as the 
 evening passed cheerfully enough in Mrs. Rosewarne's 
 parlor, he resolved he would postpone inquiry into this 
 matter. He had never seen Wenna so pleased herself, 
 and so obviously bent on pleasing others. She petted her 
 mother, and said slyly sarcastic things of her father, until 
 George Rose warn e roared with laughter ; she listened with 
 respectful eyes and attentive ears when Mr. Roscorla pro- 
 nounced an opinion on the affairs of the day; and she 
 dexterously cut rolls of paper and dressed up her sister 
 Mabyn to represent a lady of the time of Elizabeth, to 
 the admiration of everybody. Mr. Roscorla had inwardly 
 to confess that he had secured for himself a most charming 
 and delightful wife, who would make a wonderful difference 
 in those dull evenings up at Basset Cottage. 
 
 He only half guessed the origin of Miss Wenna's great 
 and obvious satisfaction. It was really this — that she had 
 that evening reaped the first welcome fruits of her new rela- 
 tions in finding Mr. Roscorla ready to go and perform acts of 
 charity. But for her engagement, that would certainly not 
 have happened ; and this, she believed was but the auspi- 
 cious beginning. Of course Mr. Roscorla would have laughed 
 
62 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 if she had informed him of her belief that the regeneration of 
 the whole little world of Eglosilyan — something like the Mil- 
 lennium, indeed — was to come about merely because an inn- 
 keeper's daughter was about to be made a married woman. 
 Wenna Rosewarne, however, did not formulate any such 
 belief ; but she was none the less proud of the great results 
 that had already been secured by — by what ? By her sacri- 
 fice of herself ? She did not pursue the subject so far. 
 
 Her delight was infectious. Mr. Roscorla, as he walked 
 home that night — under the throbbing starlight, with the 
 sound of the Atlantic murmuring through the darkness — was, 
 on the whole, rather pleased that he had been vexed on hear- 
 ing of that letter from Harry Trelyon. He would continue 
 to be vexed. He would endeavor to be jealous without 
 measure ; for how can jealousy exist if an anxious love is not 
 also present ? and, in fact, should not a man who is really 
 fond of a woman be quick to resent the approach of any one 
 who seems to interfere with his right of property in her affec- 
 tions ? By the time he reached Basset Cottage, Mr. Ros- 
 corla had very nearly persuaded himself into the belief that 
 he was really in love with Wenna Rosewarne. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE RING OF EVIL OMEN. 
 
 One of Wenna's many friends outside the village in which 
 she lived was a strange misshapen creature who earned his 
 living by carrying sand from one of the bays on the coast to 
 the farmers on the uplands above. This he did by means of 
 a troop of donkeys — small, rough, Jight-haired, and large- 
 eyed animals — that struggled up the rude and steep path on 
 the face of the cliff, with the bags on their backs that he had 
 laboriously filled below. It was a sufficiently cheerless 
 occupation for this unfortunate hunchback, and not a very 
 profitable one. The money he got from the farmers did not 
 much more than cover the keep of the donkeys. He seldom 
 spoke to any human being ; for who was going to descend 
 that rough and narrow path down to the shore — where he 
 and his donkeys appeared to be no bigger than mice — with 
 the knowledge that there was no path around the precipitous 
 -soast and that nothing would remain but the long climb up 
 S£ain ? 
 
THE RING OF EVIL OMEN. 63 
 
 Wenna Rosewarne had some pity for this solitary wretch, 
 who toiled at his task with the melancholy Atlantic before 
 him, and behind him a great and lonely wall of crumbling 
 slate ; and, whenever she had time, she used to walk with 
 her sister across from Eglosilyan by the high-lying downs 
 until they reached this little indentation in the coast where a 
 curve of yellow sand was visible far below. If this poor 
 fellow and his donkeys were to be seen from the summit, the 
 two girls had little fear of the fatigue of descending the path 
 down the side of the steep cliff ; and the object of their visit 
 used to be highly pleased and flattered by their coming to 
 chat with him for a few minutes. He would hasten the filling 
 of his bags so as to ascend again with them, and, in a strange 
 tongue that even the two Cornish girls could not always un- 
 derstand, he would talk to them of the merits of his favorite 
 donkeys, of their willingness and strength and docility. 
 They never took him any tracts ; they never uttered a word 
 of condolence or sympathy. Their visit was merely of the 
 nature of a friendly call ; but it was a mark of attention and 
 kindliness that gave the man something pleasant to think of 
 for days thereafter. 
 
 Now on one of these occasions Mr. Roscorla went with 
 Wenna and her sister ; and although he did not at all see the 
 use of going down this precipitous cliff for the mere purpose 
 of toiling up again, he was not going to confess that he 
 dreaded the fatigue of it. Moreover, this was another mis- 
 sion of charity ; and, although he had not called again on Mr. 
 Keam — although, in fact, he had inwardly vowed that the 
 prayers of a thousand angels would not induce him again to 
 visit Mr. Keam — he was anxious that Wenna should believe 
 that he still remained her pupil. So, with a good grace, he 
 went down the tortuous pathway to the desolate little bay 
 where the sand-carrier was at work. He stood and looked 
 at the sea while Wenna chatted with her acquaintance ; he 
 studied the rigging of the distant ships ; he watched the 
 choughs and daws flying about the face of the rocks ; he drew 
 figures on the sand with the point of his cane, and wondered 
 whether he would be back in good time for luncheon if this 
 garrulous hunchback jabbered in his guttural way for another 
 hour. Then he had the pleasure of climbing up the cliff 
 again, with a whole troop of donkeys going before him in In- 
 dian file up the narrow and zigzag path, and at last he reached 
 the summit. His second effort in the way of charity had been 
 accomplished. 
 
 He proposed that the young ladies should sit down to rest 
 
64 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 for a few minutes, after the donkeys and their driver had de- 
 parted ; and accordingly the three strangers chose a block of 
 slate for a seat, with the warm grass for a footstool, and all 
 around them the beauty of an August morning. The sea was 
 ruffled into a dark blue where it neared the horizon ; but 
 closer at hand it was pale and still. The sun was hot on the 
 bleak pasture-land. There was a scent of fern and wild thyme 
 in the air. 
 
 " By the way, Wenna," said Mr. Roscorla, " I wonder you 
 have never asked me why I have not yet got you an engaged 
 ring." 
 
 " Wenna does not want an engaged ring," said Miss Mabyn, 
 sharply. " They are not worn now." 
 
 This audacious perversion of fact on the part of the self-willed 
 young beauty was in reality a sort of cry of despair. If Mr. 
 Roscorla had not yet spoken of a ring to Wenna, Mabyn had ; 
 and Mabyn had besought her sister not to accept this symbol 
 of hopeless captivity. 
 
 " Oh, Wenna ! " she had said, " if you take a ring from 
 him, I shall look on you as carried away from us forever." 
 
 " Nonsense, Mabyn," the elder sister had said. " The ring 
 is of no importance ; it is the word you have spoken that is." 
 
 " Oh no, it isn't," Mabyn said, earnestly. " As long as you 
 don't wear a ring, Wenna, I still fancy I shall get you back 
 from him ; and you may say what you like, but you are far too 
 good for him." 
 
 " Mabyn, you are a disobedient child," the elder sister said, 
 stopping the argument with a kiss, and not caring to raise a 
 quarrel. 
 
 Well, when Mr. Roscorla was suddenly confronted by this 
 statement, he was startled ; but he inwardly resolved that, as 
 soon as he and Wenna were married, he would bring Miss 
 Mabyn's interference in their affairs to an end. At present 
 he merely said, mildly — 
 
 " I was not aware that engaged rings were no longer worn. 
 However, if that be so, it is no reason why we should discon- 
 tinue a good old custom ; and I have put off getting one, 
 Wenna because I knew I had to go to London soon. I find 
 now I must go on Monday next ; and so I want you to tell me 
 what sort of stones you like best in a ring." 
 
 " I am sure I don't know," Wenna said, humbly and duti- 
 fully. " I am sure to like whatever you choose." 
 
 "'But what do you prefer yourself? " he again said. 
 
 Wenna hesitated, but Miss Mabyn did not. She was pre- 
 pared for the crisis. She had foreseen it. 
 
THE RING OF EVIL OMEN. 65 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Roscorla," she said (and you would not have fan- 
 cied there was any guile or malice in that young and pretty 
 face, with its tender blue eyes and its proud and sweet mouth), 
 " don't you know that Wenna likes emeralds ? " 
 
 Mr. Roscorla was very near telling the younger sister to 
 mind her own business ; but he was afraid. He only said, in 
 a stiff way, to his betrothed — 
 
 " Do you like emeralds ? " 
 
 " I think they are very pretty," Wenna replied, meekly. " I 
 am sure I shall like any ring you choose." 
 
 "Oh, very well," said he, rather discontented that she 
 would show no preference. I shall get you an emerald ring." 
 
 When she heard this decision, the heart of Mabyn Rose- 
 warne was filled with an unholy joy. This was the rhyme 
 that was running through her head : 
 
 " Oh, green's forsaken, 
 And yellow's forsworn, 
 And blue's the sweetest 
 Color that's worn ! " 
 
 Wenna was saved to her now. How could any two people 
 marry who had engaged themselves with an emerald ring? 
 There was a great deal of what might be called natural re- 
 ligion in this young lady, to distinguish it from that which 
 she had been taught on Sunday forenoons and at her mother's 
 knee : a belief in occult influences ruling the earth, unnara- 
 able, undefinable, but ever present and ever active. If fairly 
 challenged, she might have scrupled to say that she believed 
 in Brownies, or the Small People, or in any one of the 
 thousand superstitions of the Cornish peasantry. But she 
 faithfully observed these superstitions. If her less heedful 
 sister put a cut loaf upside down on the plate, Mabyn would 
 instantly right it, and say " Oh, Wenna ! " as if her sister had 
 forgotten that that simple act meant that some ship was in 
 sore distress. If Wenna laughed at any of these fancies, 
 Mabyn said nothing ; but all the same she was convinced in 
 her own mind that things happened to people in a strange 
 fashion, and in accordance with omens that might have been 
 remarked. She knew that if Mr. Roscorla gave Wenna a 
 ring of emeralds, Mr. Roscorla would never marry her. 
 
 One thing puzzled her, however. Which of the two was 
 to be the forsaken ? Was it Wenna or Mr. Roscorla who 
 would break this engagement that the younger sister had set 
 her heart against ? Well, she would not have been sorry if 
 
66 THREE EEA THERS. 
 
 Mr. Roscorla were the guilty party, except in so far as some 
 humiliation might thereby fall on Wenna. But the more she 
 thought of the matter, the more she was convinced that Mr. 
 Roscorla was aware he had the best of the bargain, and was 
 not at all likely to seek to escape from it. It was he who 
 must be forsaken ; and she had no pity for him. What right 
 had an old man to come and try to carry off her sister — her 
 sister whose lover ought to be " young and beautiful, like a 
 prince ? " Mabyn kept repeating the lines to herself all the 
 time they walked homewards ; and if Wenna had asked her 
 a question just then, the chances are she would have an- 
 swered — 
 
 " Oh, green's forsaken, 
 
 And yellow's forsworn, 
 And blue's the sweetest 
 Color that's worn ! " 
 
 But Wenna was otherwise engaged during this homeward 
 walk. Mr. Roscorla, having resolved to go to London, 
 thought he might as well have that little matter about Harry 
 Trelyon cleared up before he went. He had got all the 
 good out of it possible by nursing whatever unquiet sus- 
 picions it provoked, and trying to persuade himself that 
 as he was in some measure jealous he must in some meas- 
 ure be in love. But he had not the courage to take these 
 suspicions with him to London ; they were not pleasant 
 travelling companions. 
 
 " I wonder," he said, in rather a nervous way, " whether I 
 shall see young Trelyon in London." 
 
 Wenna was not at all disturbed by the mention of the 
 name. She only said, with a smile — 
 
 " It is a big place to seek any one in." 
 
 " You know he is there ? " 
 
 " Oh yes," she answered directly. 
 
 " It is odd that you should know, for he has not told any 
 one up at Trelyon Hall ; in fact, no one appears to have 
 heard anything about him but yourself." 
 
 " How very silly of him," Wenna said, " to be so thought- 
 less ! Doesn't his mother know ? Do you think she would 
 like to know ? " 
 
 "Well," said he, with marked coldness, "doubtless she 
 would be surprised at his having communicated with you in 
 preference to any one else." 
 
 Wenna's soft dark eyes were turned up to his face with a 
 sudden look of astonishment. He had never spoken to her 
 in this wav before. She could not understand. And then 
 
THE RING OF EVIL OMEN. 67 
 
 she said, very quickly, and with a sudden flush of color to 
 the pale face — 
 
 " Oh ! but this letter is only about the dog. I will show 
 it to you. I have it in my pocket." 
 
 She took out the letter and handed it to him ; and he 
 might have seen that her hand trembled. She was very 
 much perturbed — she scarcely knew why. But there was 
 something in his manner that had almost frightened her — 
 something distant and harsh and suspicious ; and surely she 
 had done no wrong ? 
 
 He smoothed out the crumpled sheet of paper, and a con- 
 temptuous smile passed over his face. 
 
 " He writes with more care to you than to other people ; 
 but I can't say much for his handwriting at the best." 
 
 Wenna colored, and said nothing; but Mabyn remarked, 
 rather warmly — 
 
 " I don't think a man need try to write like a dancing-mas- 
 ter, if he means what he says, and can tell you that frankly." 
 
 Mr. Roscorla did not heed this remarkably incoherent 
 speech, for he was reading the letter, which ran as follows : 
 
 "Nolan's Hotel, London, July 30, 18 — . 
 " Dear Miss Rosewarne, — 
 
 " I know you would like to have Rock, and he's no good 
 at all as a retreaver, and I've written to Luke to take him 
 down to you at the Inn, and I shall be very pleased if you 
 will accept him as a present from me. Either Luke or your 
 father will tell you how to feed him ; and I am sure you will 
 be kind to him, and not chain him up, and give him plenty of 
 exercise. I hope you are all well at the Inn, and that 
 Mabyn's pigeons have not flowne away. Tell her not to for- 
 get the piece of looking-glass. 
 
 " Yours faithfully, 
 
 " Harry Trelyon. 
 
 "P.S. — I met Joshua Keam quite by accident yesterday. 
 He asked for you most kindly. His leg has been ampitated 
 at last." 
 
 Here was nothing at which a jealous lover might grumble. 
 Mr. Roscorla handed back the letter with scarcely a word, 
 leaving Wenna to puzzle ever what had happened to make 
 him look at her in that strange way. As for Miss Mabyn, 
 that young lady would say nothing to hurt her sister's feel- 
 ings ; but she said many a bitter thing to herself about the 
 
6S THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 character of a gentleman who would read another gentleman's 
 letter, particularly when the former was an elderly gentleman 
 and the latter a young one, and most of all when the young 
 gentleman had been writing to a girl, and that girl her sister 
 Wenna. " But green's forsaken," Mabyn said to herself, as 
 if there was great comfort in that reflection — " green's for- 
 saken, and yellow's forsworn ! " 
 
 And so Mr. Roscorla was going away from Eglosilyan for 
 a time, and Wenna would be left alone. 
 
 Certainly, if this brief separation promised to afflict her 
 grievously, it had not that effect in the mean time ; for once 
 she had gone over the matter in her mind, and sketched out, 
 as was her wont, all that she ought to do, she quickly recov- 
 ered her cheerfulness, and was in very good spirits indeed 
 when the small party reached Eglosilyan. And here was a 
 small and sunburnt boy — Master Pentecost Luke, in fact — 
 waiting for her right in the middle of the road in front of the 
 inn, whom she caught up, and kissed and scolded all at once. 
 
 " Whatever are you doing down here, sir, all by yourself ? " 
 
 <J I have turn to see you," the small boy said, in no way 
 frightened or abashed by her rough usage of him. 
 
 " And so you want Mr. Trelyon to ride over you again, do 
 you ? Haven't I told you never to come here without some 
 of your brothers and sisters ? Well, say ' How do you do ? ' 
 to the gentleman. Don't you know Penny Luke, Mr. Ros- 
 corla ? " 
 
 " I believe I have that honor," said Mr. Roscorla, with a 
 smile, but not at all pleased to be kept in the middle of the 
 road chattering to a cottager's child. 
 
 Miss Wenna presently showed that she was a well-built 
 and active young woman by swinging Master Penny up and 
 perching him on her shoulder, in which fashion she carried 
 him into the inn. 
 
 " Penny is a great friend of mine," she said to Mr. Ros- 
 corla, who would not himself have attempted that feat of skill 
 and dexterity, " and you must make his acquaintance. He 
 is a very good boy on the whole, but sometimes he goes near 
 to breaking my heart. I shall have to give him up and take 
 another sweetheart, if he doesn't mind. He will eat with his 
 fingers, and he will run out and get among horses' feet ; and 
 as for the way he conducts himself when his face is being 
 washed, and he is being made like a gentleman, I never saw 
 the like of it." 
 
 Master Penny did not seem much ashamed ; he was, in 
 fact, too proud of his position. They marched him into the 
 
THE SNARES OF LONDON. 69 
 
 inn, where, doubtless, he received all the petting and other 
 good things he had been shrewdly expecting. 
 
 Mabyn said her prayers that night in the ordinary and for- 
 mal fashion. She prayed for her father and mother and for 
 her sister Wenna, as she had been taught ; and she added in 
 the Princess of Wales on her own account, because she liked 
 her pretty face. She also prayed that she herself should be 
 made humble and good, desirous of serving her fellow-crea- 
 tures, and charitable to every one. All this was done in due 
 order. 
 
 But in point of fact her heart was at that moment far from 
 being meek and charitable ; it was, on the contrary, filled 
 with bitterness and indignation. And the real cry of her 
 soul, unknown to herself, went out to all the vague, imagina- 
 tive powers of magic and witchcraft — to the mysterious in- 
 fluences of the stars and the strange controllers of chance ; 
 and it was to these that she looked for the rescue of her 
 sister from the doom that threatened her, and to them that 
 she appealed, with a yearning far too great for words or even 
 for tears. When she was but a child playing among the 
 rocks, she had stumbled on the dead body of a sailor that 
 had been washed ashore ; and she had run, white and trem- 
 bling, into the village with the news. Afterwards she was 
 told that on the hand of the corpse a ring with a green stone 
 in it was found ; an then she heard for the first time the 
 rhyme that had never since left her memory. She certainly 
 did not wish that Mr. Roscorla should die ; but she as cer- 
 tainly wished that her sister Wenna should be saved from 
 becoming his wife ; and she reflected with a fierce satisfac- 
 tion that it was she who had driven him to promise that 
 Wenna's engaged ring should be composed of those fatal 
 stones. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE SNARES OF LONDON. 
 
 If Mr. Harry Trelyon was bent on going to the devil, to use 
 his own phrase, he went a quiet way about it. On the warm 
 and close evening of a summer day he arrived in London. 
 A red smoke hung about the western sky, over the tops of 
 the houses ; the thoroughfares that were in shadow were 
 filled with a pale blue mist ; the air was still and stifling— 
 
70 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 very different from that which came in at night from the sea 
 to the gardens and cottages of Eglosilyan. He drove down 
 through these hot and crowded streets to a hotel near 
 Charing Cross — an old-fashioned little place much fre- 
 quented by west-country people, who sometimes took rooms 
 there, and brought their daughters up for a month or so of 
 the season, at which time no other guests could obtain 
 admission. At ordinary times, however, the place was 
 chiefly tenanted by a few country gentlemen and a clergy- 
 man or two, who had small sitting-rooms, in which they dined 
 with their families, and in which they drank a glass of some- 
 thing hot before going to bed at night after coming home 
 from the theatre. 
 
 Harry Trelyon was familiar with the place and its ways, 
 and with the traditions of his father and grandfather, who 
 invariably stopped there ; and, following in their footsteps, 
 he, too, obtained a private sitting-room as well as a bedroom, 
 and then he ordered dinner. It was not much in the way of 
 a banquet for a young gentleman who was determined to 
 go to the devil. It consisted of a beefsteak and a pint of 
 claret ; and it was served in a fairly-sized, old-fashioned, 
 dimly-lit room, the furniture of which was of that very sub- 
 stantial sort that is warranted to look dingy for a couple of 
 generations. He was attended by a very old and shrunken 
 waiter, whose white whiskers were more respectable than his 
 shabby clothes. On his first entrance into the room he had 
 looked at the young man who, in a rough shooting-suit, was 
 stretched out at full length in an easy-chair ; and, in answer- 
 ing a question, he had addressed him by his name. 
 
 " How do you know my name ? " the lad said. 
 
 " Ah, sir, there's no mistaking one o' your family. I can 
 remember your grandfather, and your uncle, and your father. 
 Did you never hear, sir, that I was a witness for your father 
 at the police-court ? " 
 
 " What row was that ? " the young gentleman asked, show- 
 ing his familiarity with the fact that the annals of the 
 Trelyons were of a rather stormy character. 
 
 " Why, sir," the old man said, warming up into a little 
 excitement, and unconsciously falling into something like the 
 provincial accent of his youth, " I believe you was in the 
 hotel at the time — yes, as well as I can recollect, you was a 
 little chap then, and had gone to bed. Well, maybe I'm 
 wrong — 'tis a good few years agone. But, anyhow, your 
 father and that good lady your mother, they were a-coming 
 home from a theatre : and there was two or three young 
 
THE SNARES OF LONDON. 71 
 
 fellers on the pavement — I was the porter then, sir — and I 
 think that one of 'em called out to the other, ' Well, here's 
 a country beauty,' or some such cheek. 'But, anyhow, your 
 father, sir, he knocks him aside, and takes his good lady into 
 the door of the hotel, and then they was for follerin' of him, 
 but as soon as she was inside, then he turns, and there was 
 a word or two, and one of 'em he ups with a stick, and says I 
 to myself, ' I can't stand aby and see three or four set on 
 one gentleman ; ' but lor ! sir — well, you wouldn't believe it 
 — but before I could make a step, there was two of 'em lyin' 
 on the pavement — clean, straight down, sir, with their hats 
 running into the street — and the other two making off as fast 
 as they could bolt across the square. Oh, lor, sir, wa'n't it 
 beautiful ! And the way as your father turned and says he 
 to me, with a laugh like, 'Tomlins,' says he, 'you can give 
 them gentlemen a glass of brandy-and-water when they ask 
 for it ! ' And the magistrate, sir, he was a real sensible 
 gentleman, and he give it hot to these fellers, for they began 
 the row, sir, and no mistake ; but to see the way they went 
 down — lor, sir, you can't believe it ! " 
 
 " Oh, can't I, though ? " Master Harry said, with a roar of 
 laughter. " Don't you make any mistake. I say, what did you 
 say your name was ? " 
 
 " My name, sir," said the old man, suddenly sinking from 
 the epic heights which had lent a sort of inspiration to his 
 face, down to the ordinary chastened and respectful bearing 
 of a waiter — " my name, sir, in the hotel is Charles ; but your 
 good father, sir, he knowed my name, which is Tomlins, sir." 
 
 " Well, look here, Tomlins," the boy said, " you go and ask 
 the landlady to give you a holiday this evening, and come in 
 and smoke a pipe with me." 
 
 " Oh, lor, sir," the old waiter said, aghast at the very notion, 
 " I couldn't do that. It would be as much as my place is 
 worth." 
 
 " Oh, never mind your place — I'll get you a better one," 
 the lad said, with a sort of royal carelessness. " I'll get you 
 a place down in Cornwall. You come and help our butler 
 — he's a horrid old fool. When I come of age, I mean to 
 build a house there for myself. No, I think I shall have 
 rooms in London — anyhow, I'll give you ^"ioo a year." 
 
 The old man shook his head. 
 
 " No, sir, thank you very much, sir. I'm too old to begin 
 again. You want a younger man than me. Beg your pardon, 
 sir, but they're ringing for me." 
 
 " Poor old beggar ! " said Trelyon to himself, when the 
 
72 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 waiter had left the room ; " I wonder if he's married, and if 
 he's got any kids that one could help. And so he was a wit- 
 ness for my father. Well, he sha'n't surfer for that." 
 
 Master Harry finished his steak and his pint of claret ; then 
 he lit a cigar, got into a hansom, and drove up to a street in 
 Seven Dials, where he at length discovered a certain shop. 
 The shutters were on the windows, and a stout old lady was 
 taking in from the door the last of the rabbit-hutches and 
 cages that had been out there during the evening. 
 
 " You're Mrs. Finch, ain't you ? " Trelyon said, making 
 his way into the shop, which was lighted inside by a solitary 
 jet of gas. 
 
 " Yes, sir," said the woman, looking up at the tall young 
 man in the rough shooting-costume and brown wideawake. 
 
 " Well, my name's Trelyon, and I'm come to blow you up. 
 A pretty mess you made of that flamingo for me — why, a 
 bishop in lawn sleeves couldn't have stuffed it worse. Where 
 did you ever see a bird with a neck like a corkscrew ? — and 
 when I opened it to put it straight, then I found out all your 
 tricks, Mrs. Finch." 
 
 "But you know, sir," said Mrs. Finch, smiling blandly, "it 
 ain't our line of business." 
 
 " Well, I'd advise you to get somebody else next time to 
 stuff for you. However, I bear you no malice. You show 
 me what you've got in the way of live stock ; and if you take 
 fifty per cent, off your usual prices, I'll let the corkscrew 
 flamingo go." 
 
 A minute thereafter he was being conducted down some 
 very dark steps into a subterranean cellar by this stout old 
 woman, who carried a candle in front of him. Their entrance 
 into this large, dismal, and strangely filled place — at the far- 
 ther end of which was a grating looking up to the street — 
 awoke a profound commotion among the animals around. 
 Cocks began to crow, suddenly awakened birds fluttered up 
 and down their cages, paroquets and cockatoos opened their 
 sleepy eyes and mechanically repeated " Pretty Polly ! " and 
 " Good-night ! good-night ! " ' Even the rabbits stared solemn- 
 ly from behind the bars. 
 
 " What have you got there ? " said Trelyon to his guide, 
 pointing to a railway milk-can which stood in the corner, near- 
 ly filled with earth. 
 
 " A mole, sir," said Mrs. Finch ; " it is a plaything of one 
 of my boys ; but I could let you have it, sir, if you have any 
 curiosity that way." 
 
 " Why, bless you, I've had 'em by the dozen. I don't 
 
THE SNARES OF LONDON. 73 
 
 know how many I've let escape into our kitchen-garden, all 
 with a string tied to their leg. Don't they go down a cracker 
 if you let 'em loose for a second ! I should say that fellow 
 was rather disgusted when he came to the tin, don't you think ? 
 Got any cardinals, Mrs. Finch ? I lost every one o' them 
 you sent me." 
 
 " Dear, dear me ! " said Mrs. Finch, showing very great 
 concern. 
 
 "Ay, you may well say that. Every one o' them, and 
 about forty more birds besides, before I found out what it 
 was — an infernal weasel that had made its way into the 
 rockwork of my aviary, and there he lived at his ease for 
 nearly a fortnight, just killing whatever he chose, and the 
 beggar seemed to have a fancy for the prettiest birds. I had 
 to pull the whole place to pieces before I found him out — 
 and there he was, grinning and snarling in a corner. By Jove ! 
 didn't I hit him a whack with a stick I had ! There were 
 no more birds for him in this world." 
 
 At this moment Mrs. Finch's husband and two of her 
 small boys came down-stairs ; and very soon the conversation 
 on natural history became general, each one anxious to give 
 his experiences of the wonderful things he had observed, 
 even if his travels had carried him no farther than Battersea 
 Reaches. Master Harry forgot that he had left a hansom at 
 the door. There was scarcely an animal in this dungeon 
 that he did not examine ; and when he suddenly discovered 
 that it was considerably past eleven o'clock, he found him- 
 self the owner of about as much property as would have 
 filled two cabs. He went up-stairs, dismissed the hansom, 
 and got a four-wheeler, in which he deposited the various 
 cages, fish-globes, and what not, that he had bought ; and 
 then he drove off to his hotel, getting all the waiters in the 
 place to assist in carrying these various objects tenderly up- 
 stairs. Thus ended his first evening in London, the chief 
 result of which was that his sitting-room had assumed the 
 appearance of a bird-catcher's window. 
 
 Next forenoon he walked up into Hyde Park to have a 
 look at the horses. Among the riders he recognized sever- 
 al people whom he knew — some of them, indeed, related to 
 him — but he was careful to take no notice of them. 
 
 " Those women," he said to himself, in a sensible manner, 
 " don't want to recognize a fellow who has a wideawake on. 
 They would do it, though, if you presented yourself ; and 
 they would ask you to lunch or to tea in the afternoon. Then 
 you'd find yourself among a lot of girls, all with their young 
 
74 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 men about them, and the young men would wonder how the 
 dickens you came to be in a shooting-coat in London." 
 
 So he pursued his way, and at length found himself in the 
 Zoological Gardens. He sat for nearly an hour staring at 
 the lions and tigers, imagining all sorts of incidents as he 
 looked at their sleepy and cruel eyes, and wondering what 
 one splendid fellow would do if he went down and stroked 
 his nose. He had the satisfaction also of seeing the animals 
 fed ; and he went around with the man, and had an interest- 
 ing conversation with him. 
 
 Then he went and had some luncheon himself, and got into 
 talk with the amiable young lady who waited on him, who 
 expressed in generous terms, with a few superfluous //'s, the 
 pleasure which she derived from going to the theatre. 
 
 " Oh, do you like it ? " he said, carelessly ; " I never go. 
 I always fall asleep — country habits, you know. But you 
 get somebody to go with you, and I'll send you a couple of 
 places for to-morrow night, if you like." 
 
 " I think I could get some one to take me," said the young 
 lady, with a pretty little simper. 
 
 u Yes, I should think you could," he said, bluntly. " What's 
 your name ? " 
 
 He wrote it down on one of his own cards, and went his 
 way. 
 
 The next place of entertainment he visited was an Amer- 
 ican bowling-alley, in the neighborhood of Covent Garden, a 
 highly respectable place to which gentlemen resorted for the 
 purpose of playing a refined sort of skittles. Master Harry 
 merely wanted to practise, and also to stretch his arms and 
 legs. He had just begun, however, to send the big balls 
 crashing into the pins at the farther end of the alley, when 
 the only visitor in the place — a sailor-looking person with a 
 red face, who was smoking a very elaborate meerschaum — 
 offered to play a game with him. 
 
 "All right," said Trelyon. 
 
 " For a couple of bobs ? " says the stranger. 
 
 " Do you mean two shillings ? " asks the young man, calm- 
 ly looking down upon the person with the red face ; for, of 
 course, Harry Trelyon never used slang. 
 
 " Yes," said the other, with much indifference, as he se- 
 lected one of the balls. 
 
 They played a game, and Trelyon won easily. They played 
 another, and again he won. They played a third, and still 
 he won. 
 
 " Oh, let's play for a sovereign," said the straneer. 
 
THE SNARES OF LONDON. 75 
 
 " No," said the young man ; "I'm going." 
 
 Well, this did not at all seem to suit his opponent, who 
 became rather demonstrative in manner. He did not like 
 gentlemen coming in to win money, without giving a fellow a 
 chance of winning it back. At this Trelyon turned sud- 
 denly — he had not yet put on his coat — and said — 
 
 " What do you mean ? I won't play any more, but I'll 
 knock the head off you in two minutes, if that'll suit vou 
 better." 
 
 The gentleman with the red face paused for a minute. 
 He was evidently in a nasty temper. He looked at the build 
 of the young man ; he also observed that one of the assistants 
 was drawing near; and still he said nothing. Whereupon 
 Master Harry quietly put on his coat, lit a cigar, gave a 
 friendly nod to his late opponent, and walked out. 
 
 In this wise he lounged about London for a day or two, 
 looking in at Tattersall's, examining new breech-loaders in 
 shops in St. James's Street, purchasing ingenuities in fishing- 
 tackle, and very frequently feeding the ducks in the Serpen- 
 tine with bread bought of the boys standing around. It was 
 not a very lively sort of existence, he found. Colonel Ran- 
 some had left for Scotland on the very day before his arrival 
 in London, so that peaceable and orderly means of getting 
 that dowry for Wenna Rosewarne were not at hand; and 
 Master Harry, though he was enough of a devil-may-care, 
 had no intention of going to the Jews for the money until he 
 was driven to it. Colonel Ransome, moreover, had left his 
 constituents unrepresented in the House during the last few 
 clays of the session, and had quietly gone off to Scotland for 
 the 1 2th, so that it was impossible to say when he might return. 
 Meanwhile young Trelyon made the acquaintance of what- 
 ever birds, beasts, and fishes he could find in London, until 
 he got a little tired. 
 
 All of a sudden it struck him one evening, as a happy re- 
 lief, that he would sit down and write to Wenna Rosewarne. 
 He ordered in pens, ink, and paper with much solemnity; 
 and then he said to the old waiter, " Tomlins, how do you 
 spell ' retriever ' ? " 
 
 "I ain't quite sure, sir," Tomlins said. 
 
 Whereupon Master Harry had to begin and compose that 
 letter which we have already read, but which cost him an 
 amount of labor not visible in the lines as they stand. He 
 threw away a dozen sheets of paper before he even mastered 
 a beginning; and it was certainly an hour and a half before 
 he had produced a copy which more or less satisfied him. 
 
76 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 Mr Roscorla noticed at once the pains he had taken with the 
 writing. 
 
 Then in due course came the answer; and Master Hairy 
 paused with much satisfaction to look at the pretty hand- 
 writing on the envelope — he did not often get letters from 
 young ladies. The contents, however, did not please him 
 quite so much. They were these : 
 
 " Eglosilyan, August 3, 18 — 
 " Dear Mr. Trelyon, — 
 
 " Thank you very much for giving me your beautiful dog. 
 I shall take great care of him, and if you want him for the 
 shooting you can have him at any time. But I am surprised 
 you should write to me when I hear that you have not written 
 to your own relatives, and that they do not even know where 
 you are. I cannot understand how you should be so care- 
 less of the feelings of others. I am sure it is thoughtlessness 
 rather than selfishness on your part ; but I hope you will write 
 to them at once. Mr. Barnes has just called, and I have 
 given him your address. I am, yours sincerely, 
 
 " Wenna Rosewarne." 
 
 Harry Trelyon was at once vexed and pleased by this let- 
 ter ; probably more vexed than pleased, for he threw it im- 
 patiently on the table, and said to himself, "She's always 
 reading lectures to people, and always making a fuss of 
 nothing. She was meant for a Puritan — she should have 
 gone out in the Mayfly to America." 
 
 Mayfly for Mayflower was perhaps a natural mistake for a 
 trout-fisher to make ; but Master Harry was unaware of it. 
 He passed on to more gloomy fancies. What was this parson 
 about that he should come inquiring for his address of Wenna 
 Rosewarne ? How had he found out that she knew it ? 
 
 " Come," said he to himself, " this won't do. I must go 
 down to Cornwall. And, it there are any spies pushing their 
 noses into my affairs, let 'em look out for a tweak, that's all ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE TWO PICTURES. 
 
 " Oh, Mabyn," Wenna called out in despair, "you will have 
 all my hair down. Have you gone auite mad ? " 
 
THE TWO PICTURES. 77 
 
 " Yes, quite," the younger sister said, with a wild enjoy- 
 ment in her eyes. " Oh, Wenna, he's gone, he's gone, and 
 he's gone to get you an emerald ring ! Don't you know,, you 
 poor silly thing, that green's forsaken, and yellow's for- 
 sworn ? " 
 
 " Well, Mabyn," the elder sister said, laughing in spite of 
 herself, " you are the wickedest girl I ever heard of, and I 
 wonder I am not angry with you. " 
 
 At this moment they were returning to Eglosilyan along the 
 Launceston highway ; and far away behind them, on the road 
 that crosses the bleak and lofty moors, the dog-cart was faintly 
 visible which was taking Mr. Roscorla on his first stage to- 
 wards London. He had driven the two sisters out for about 
 a mile, and now they were going back ; and Mabyn was al- 
 most beside herself with delight that he was gone, and that 
 her sister had shown no great grief at his going. Their part- 
 ing, indeed, had been of a most unromantic kind, much to the 
 relief of both. Mr. Roscorla was rather late ; and Wenna 
 devoted her last words to impressing on him that he must 
 have something to eat in Launceston before going down to 
 the Plymouth train. Then she bade him make haste, and 
 said good-bye with a kindly smile on her face, and away he 
 went. 
 
 " Mabyn," she said, in a mysterious voice which stopped 
 her sister's pulling her about, " do you think — now, do you 
 really think — Mr. Pavy would lend us his boat ? " 
 
 " Oh, Wenna," the other one cried, " do let us have the boat 
 out ! Do you know that the whole air seems clear and light 
 since Mr. Roscorla has gone ? I should like to thank every- 
 body in the world for being so kind as to take him away. 
 Wenna, I'll run you to the gate of Basset Cottage for half a 
 
 crown 1 
 
 ! " 
 
 You ! " said the elder sister, with great contempt. " I'll 
 run you to the mill for a hundred thousand pounds." 
 
 " No, Wenna— Basset Cottage, if you like," said Mabyn, 
 sturdily ; and with that both the girls set out, with their heads 
 down, in a business-like fashion that showed there was very 
 little the matter with their lungs. 
 
 " Oh, Mabyn ! " said Wenna, suddenly ; and then both of 
 them found that they had very nearly run into the arms of a 
 clergyman — an elderly, white-haired, amiable-looking gentle- 
 man, who was rather slowly toiling up the hill. Mabyn looked 
 frightened, and then laughed ; but Wenna, with her cheeks 
 very red, went forward and shook hands with him. 
 
 " Well, girls," he said, " you needn't stop running for me— 
 
7 g THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 a capital exercise, a capital exercise, that young ladies in 
 towns don't have much of. And as for you, Wenna, you've 
 plenty of work of a sedentary nature, you know — nothing bet- 
 ter than a good race, nothing better. " 
 
 " And how is your little granddaughter this morning, Mr. 
 Trewhella ? " said Wenna, gently, with her cheeks still flush- 
 ing with the running. 
 
 " Ah ! well, poor child, she is much about the same ; but 
 ihe pincushion is nearly finished now, and your name is on it 
 in silver beads, and you are to come and have tea with her as 
 soon as you can, that she may give it to you. Dear, dear ! 
 she was asking her mother yesterday whether the beads would 
 carry all her love to you, for she did not think it possible her- 
 self. Well, good-bye, girls ; don't you be ashamed of having 
 a race together." With which the kindly-faced clergyman re- 
 sumed his task of ascending the hill, and the two girls, aban- 
 doning their racing, walked quietly down to the harbor, to see 
 if they could persuade the silent and surly Mr. Pavy to let 
 them have his boat. 
 
 Meanwhile Mr. Roscorla drove along the silent highway 
 in George Rosewarne's dog-cart, and in due time he reached 
 Launceston, and took the train for Plymouth. He stayed in 
 Plymouth that night, having some business to do there ; and 
 next morning he found himself in the Flying Dutchman, tear- 
 ing along the iron rails towards London. 
 
 Now it was a fixed habit of Mr Roscorla to try to get as 
 near as possible to a clear and definite understanding of his 
 relations with the people and things around him. He did 
 not wish to have anything left vague and nebulous, even as 
 regarded a mere sentiment ; and as this was the first time he 
 had got clear away from Eglosilyan and the life there since 
 the beginning of his engagement, he calmly set about defining 
 the position in which he stood with regard to Wenna Rose- 
 warne. 
 
 The chief matter for discontent that he had was the prob- 
 able wonder of the world over the fact that he meant to 
 marry an inn-keeper's daughter. All the world could not 
 know the sufficient reasons he had advanced to himself for 
 that step ; nor could they know of the very gradual way in 
 which he had approached it. Every one would consider it 
 as an abrupt and ludicrous act of folly; his very kindest 
 friends would call it an odd freak of romance. Now Mr. 
 Roscorla felt that at his time of life to be accused of romance 
 was to be accused of silliness ; and he resolved that, whenever 
 he had a chance, he would let people know that his choice 
 
THE TWO PICTURES. 79 
 
 of Wenna Rosewarne was dictated by the most simple and 
 commonplace arguments of prudence, such as would govern 
 the conduct of any sane man. 
 
 He resolved, too, that he would clearly impress on Harry 
 Trelyon — whom he expected to see at Nolan's— that this 
 project of marriage with Miss Rosewarne was precisely what 
 a man of the world placed in his position would entertain. 
 He did not wholly like Master Harry. There was an ostenta- 
 tious air of youth about the young man. There was a blunt- 
 ness in his speech, too, that transgressed the limits of cour- 
 tesy. Nor did he quite admire the off-handed fashion in 
 which Harry Trelyon talked to the Rosewarne's, and more 
 especially to the girls ; he wished Miss Wenna Rosewarne, 
 at least, to be treated with a little more formality and re- 
 spect. At the same time he would endeavor to remain good 
 friends with this ill-mannered boy, for reasons to be made 
 apparent. 
 
 When he arrived at Nolan's Hotel he took a bed-room 
 there, and then sent in a card to Harry Trelyon. He found 
 that young gentleman up on a chair, trying to catch a Vir- 
 ginian nightingale that had escaped from one of the cages ; 
 and he nearly stumbled over a tame hedgehog that ran patter- 
 ing over the carpet, because his attention was drawn to a 
 couple of very long-eared rabbits sitting in an easy-chair. 
 Master Harry paid no attention to him until the bird was 
 caught; then he came down, shook hands with him care- 
 lessly, and said — 
 
 " How odd you should stumble in here ! Or did Wenna 
 Rosewarne tell you I was at Nolan's ? " 
 
 "Yes, Miss Rosewarne did," said Mr. Roscorla. "You 
 have quite a menagerie here. Do you dine here or down- 
 stairs ? " 
 
 " Oh ! here, of course." 
 
 " I thought you might come and dine with me this evening 
 at my club. Five minutes' walk from here, you know. Will 
 you ! " 
 
 " Yes, I will, if you don't mind this elegant costume." 
 
 Mr. Roscorla was precisely the person to mind the dress of 
 a man whom he was taking into his club ; but he was very 
 well aware that, whatever dress young Trelyon wore, no one 
 could mistake him for anything else than a gentleman. He 
 was not at all averse to be seen with Master Harry in this 
 rough costume ; he merelv suggested, with a smile, that a 
 few feathers ana Dits of thread migh f be removed ; and then, 
 
So THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 in the quiet summer evening, they went outside and walked 
 westward. 
 
 " Now this is the time," Mr. Roscorla said, " when Pall 
 Mall looks interesting to me. There is a sort of quiet and 
 strong excitement about it. All that smoke there over the 
 club chimneys tells of the cooking going forward ; and you 
 will find old boys having a sly look in at the dining-room to 
 see that their tables are all right; and then friends come in, 
 and smooth out their white ties, and have a drop of sherry 
 and Angostura bitters while they wait. All this district is full 
 of a silent satisfaction and hope just now. But I can't get 
 you a good dinner, Trelyon ; you'll have to take your chance, 
 you know. I have got out of the ways of the club now ; I 
 don't know what they can do." 
 
 " Well, I'm not nasty partickler," Trelyon said ; which was 
 true. " But what has brought you up to London ? " 
 
 " Well, I'll tell you. It's rather an awkward business one 
 way. I have got a share in some sugar and coffee planta- 
 tions in Jamaica — I think you know that — and you are aware 
 that the emancipation of the niggers simply cut the throat of 
 the estates there. The beggars won't work ; and lots of the 
 plantations have been going down and down, or rather back 
 and back into the original wilderness. Well, my partners 
 here see no way out of it but one — to import labor, have the 
 plantations thoroughly overhauled and set in good working 
 order. But that wants money. They have got money — I 
 haven't ; and so, to tell you the truth, I am at my wit's end 
 as how to raise a few thousands to join them in the under- 
 taking." 
 
 This piece of intelligence rather startled Harry Trelyon. 
 He instantly recalled the project which had brought himself 
 to London, and asked himself whether he was prepared to 
 give a sum of ^5000 to Wenna Rosewarne, merely that it 
 should be transferred by her to her husband, who would forth- 
 with embark in speculation with it. Well, he was not pre- 
 pared to do that off-hand. 
 
 They went into the club, which was in St. James's Street, 
 and Mr. Roscorla ordered a quiet little dinner, the menu of 
 which was constructed with a neatness and skill altogether 
 thrown away on his guest. In due time Master Harry sat 
 down at the small table, and accepted with much indifference 
 the delicacies which his companion had prepared for him. 
 But all the same he enjoyed his dinner — particularly a draught 
 of ale he had with his cheese ; after which the two strangers 
 went up to a quiet corner in the smoking-room, lay down in a 
 
THE TWO PICTURES. 81 
 
 couple of big easy-chairs, and lit their cigars. During dinner 
 their talk had mostly been about shooting, varied with anec- 
 dotes which Mr. Roscorla told of men about town. 
 
 Now, however, Mr. Roscorla became more communicative 
 about his own affairs ; and it seemed to Trelyon that these 
 were rather in a bad way. And it also occurred to him that 
 there was perhaps a little meanness in his readiness to give 
 ^5000 direct to Wenna Rosewarne, and in his disinclination 
 to lend the same sum to her future husband, whose interests, 
 of course, would be hers. 
 
 " Look here, Roscorla," he said. " Honor bright, do you 
 think you can make anything out of this scheme ; or is the 
 place like one of those beastly old mines in which you throw 
 good money after bad ? " 
 
 Roscorla answered, honestly enough — but with perhaps a 
 trifle unnecessary emphasis, when he saw that the young man 
 was inclined to accept the hint — that he believed the project 
 to be a sound one ; that his partners were putting far more 
 into it than he would ; that the merchants who were his agents 
 in London knew the property and approved of the scheme ; 
 and that, if he could raise the money, he would himself go out 
 in a few months' time, to see the thing properly started. 
 
 He did not press the matter further than that for the pres- 
 ent ; and so their talk drifted away into other channels, until 
 it found its way back to Eglosilyan, to the Rosewarnes, and to 
 Wenna. That is to say, Mr. Roscorla spoke of Wenna; 
 Trelyon was generally silent on that one point. 
 
 " You must not imagine," Roscorla said, with a smile, " that 
 I took this step without much deliberation." 
 
 " So did she, I suppose," Trelyon said, rather coldly. 
 
 " Well, yes. Doubtless. But I dare say many people will 
 think it rather strange that I should marry an innkeeper's 
 daughter — they will think I have been struck with a sudden 
 fit of idiotic romance." 
 
 " Oh no, I don't think so," the lad said, with nothing visible 
 in his face to tell whether he were guilty of a mere blunder 
 or of intentional impertinence. " Many elderly gentlemen 
 marry their housekeepers, and in most cases wisely, as far as 
 I have seen." 
 
 " Oh ! but that is another thing," Roscorla said, with his 
 face flushing slightly, and inclined to be ill-tempered. " There 
 is a great difference : I am not old enough to want a nurse 
 yet. I have chosen Miss Rosewarne because she is possessed 
 of certain qualities calculated to make her an agreeable com- 
 panion for a man like myself. I have done it quite deliber- 
 
82 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 ately and with my eyes open. I am not blinded by the vanity 
 that makes a boy insist on having a particular girl become his 
 wife because she has a pretty face and he wants to show her 
 to his friends." 
 
 " And yet there is not much the matter with Wenna Rose- 
 warne's face," said Trelyon, with the least suggestion of sar- 
 casm. 
 
 " Oh ! as for that," Roscorla said, "that does not concern 
 a man who looks at life from my point of view. Certainly, 
 there are plainer faces than Miss Rosewarne's. She has 
 good eyes and teeth ; and, besides that, she has a good figure, 
 you know." 
 
 Both these men, as they lay idling in the smoking-room, 
 were now thinking of Wenna Rosewarne, and indolently and 
 inadvertently forming some picture of her in their minds. Of 
 the two, that of Mr. Roscorla was by far the more accurate. 
 He could have described every feature of her face and every 
 article of her dress, as she appeared to him on bidding him 
 good-bye the day before on the Launceston highway. The 
 dress was a soft light-brown, touched here and there with deep 
 and rich cherry color. Her face was turned sideways to him, 
 and looking up ; the lips partly open with a friendly smile, 
 and showing beautiful teeth ; the earnest dark eyes filled with 
 a kindly regard ; the eyebrows high, so that they gave a timid 
 and wondering look to the face ; the forehead low and sweet, 
 with some loose brown hair about it that the wind stirred. 
 He knew every feature of that face and every varying look of 
 the eyes, whether they were pleased and grateful, or sad and 
 distant, or overbrimming with a humorous and malicious fun. 
 He knew the shape of her hands, the graceful poise of her 
 waist and neck, the very way she put down her foot in walking. 
 He was thoroughly well aware of the appearance which the 
 girl he meant to marry presented to the unbiassed eyes of 
 the world. 
 
 Harry Trelyon's mental picture of her was far more vague 
 and unsatisfactory. Driven into a corner, he would have ad-' 
 mitted to you that Wenna Rosewarne was not very good-look- 
 ing ; but that would not have affected his fixed and private belief 
 that he knew no woman who had so beautiful and tender a 
 face. For somehow, when he thought of her, he seemed to 
 see her, as he had often seen her, go by him on a summer 
 morning on her way to church ; and as the sweet, small Puri- 
 tan would turn to him, and say in her gentle way, " Good- 
 iYiorning, Mr. Trelyon," he would feel vexed and ashamed 
 that he had been found with a gun in his hand, and be izh 
 
THE CHAIN TIGHTENS. 83 
 
 clined to heave it into the nearest ditch. Then she would 
 go on her way, along between the green hedges, in the sum- 
 mer light; and the look of her face that remained in his 
 memory was as the look of an angel, calm and sweet, and 
 never to be forgotten. 
 
 "Of course," said Mr. Roscorla in this smoking-room, "if 
 I go to Jamaica, I must get married before I start." 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE CHAIN TIGHTENS. 
 
 Once, and once only, Wenna broke down. She had gone 
 out into the night all by herself, with some vague notion that 
 the cold, dank sea-air — sweet with the scent of the roses in the 
 cottage gardens — would be gratefully cool as it came around 
 her face. The day had been stormy, and the sea was high — 
 she could hear the waves dashing in on the rocks at the 
 mouth of the harbor — but the heavens were clear, and over 
 the dark earth the great vault of stars throbbed and burned 
 in silence. She was alone, for Mr. Roscorla had not returned 
 from London, and Mabyn had not noticed her slipping out. 
 And here, in the cool, sweet darkness, the waves seemed to 
 call on her with a low and melancholy voice. A great long- 
 ing and trouble came somehow into her heart, and drove her 
 to wander onwards as if she should find rest in the mere lone- 
 liness of the night, until at length there was nothing around 
 her but the dark land and the sea and the white stars. 
 
 She could not tell what wild and sad feeling this was that 
 had taken possession of her ; but she knew that she had sud- 
 denly fallen away from the calm content of the wife that was 
 to be — with all the pleasant sensation of gratitude towards 
 him who had honored her, and the no less pleasant conscious- 
 ness that her importance in the world, and her power of help- 
 ing the people around her, were indefinitely increased. She 
 had become again the plain Jim Crow of former days, longing 
 to be able to do some indefinitely noble and unselfish thing — 
 ready, indeed, to lay her life down so that she might earn some 
 measure of kindly regard by the sacrifice. And once more 
 she reflected that she had no great influence in the world, that 
 she was of no account to anybody, that she was plain and 
 small and insignificant ; and the great desire in her heart of 
 being of distinct and beautiful service to the many people 
 
84 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 whom she loved seemed to break itself against these narrow 
 bars, until the cry of the sea around her was a cry of pain, 
 and the stars looked coldly down on her, and even God him- 
 self seemed far away and indifferent. 
 
 " If I could only tell some one — if I could only tell some 
 one ! " she was saying to herself wildly, as she walked rapidly 
 onwards, not seeing very well where she was going, for her 
 eyes were full of tears. " But if I tell Mabyn she will say that 
 I fear this marriage, and go straight to Mr. Roscorla ; and if 
 I tell my mother she will think me ungrateful to him, and to 
 every one around me. And how can I explain to them what 
 I cannot explain to myself ? And if I cannot explain it to my- 
 self, is it not mere folly to yield to such a feeling ? " 
 
 The question was easily asked and easily answered; and 
 with much show of bravery she proceeded to ask herself other 
 questions, less easily answered. She began to reproach her- 
 self with ingratitude, with vanity, with a thousand errors and 
 evil qualities : she would teach herself humility ; she would 
 endeavor to be contented and satisfied in the position in which 
 she found herself ; she would reflect on the thousands of miser- 
 able people who had real reason to complain, and yet bore 
 their sufferings with fortitude ; and she would now — straight- 
 way and at once — return to her room, get out the first letter 
 Mr. Roscorla had written to her, and convince herself once 
 more that she ought to be happy. 
 
 The climax was a strange one. She had been persuading 
 herself that there was no real cause for this sudden fit of 
 doubt and wretchedness. She had been anticipating her sis- 
 ter's probable explanation, and dismissing it. And yet, as she 
 turned and walked back along the narrow path leading down 
 to the bridge, she comforted herself with the notion that Mr. 
 Roscorla's letter would reassure her and banish these imaginary 
 sorrows. She had frequently read over that letter, and she 
 knew that its ingenious and lucid arguments were simply 
 incontrovertible. 
 
 "Oh, Wenna !" Mabyn cried, "what has been troubling 
 you ? Do you know that your face is quite white ? Have 
 you been out all by yourself ? " 
 
 Wenna, on getting home, had gone into the little snuggery 
 which was once a bar, and which was now George Rose- 
 warne's smoking-room. Mabyn and her father had been 
 playing chess — the board and pieces were still on the table. 
 Wenna sat down, apparently a little tired. 
 
 " Yes, I have been out for a walk," she said. 
 
THE CHAIN TIGHTEA T S. 85 
 
 "Wenna, tell me what is the matter with you ! " the younger 
 sister said, imperatively. 
 
 " There is nothing the matter. Well, I suppose you will 
 tease me until I tell you something. I have had a fit of 
 despondency, Mabyn, and that's all — despondency, over 
 nothing ; and now I am quite cured, and do you think Jen- 
 nifer could get me a cup of tea ? Well, why do you stare ? 
 Is there anything wonderful in it ? I suppose every girl must 
 get frightened a little bit when she thinks of all that may 
 happen to her — especially when she is alone — and of course 
 it is very ungrateful of her to have any such doubts, though 
 they mean nothing, and she ought to be ashamed — " 
 
 She stopped suddenly. To her dismay she found that she 
 was admitting to Mabyn the very reasons which she expected 
 to have to combat. She saw what she had done in the ex- 
 pression of Mabyn's face — in the proud, indignant mouth 
 and the half-concealed anger of the eyes. The younger sis- 
 ter was silent for a minute, and then she said, passionately — 
 
 " If there's any one to be ashamed, it isn't you, Wenna. 
 I know who it is. As for you, I don't know what has come 
 over you of late — you are trying to be meeker and meeker, 
 and more humble, and more grateful — and all for what ? 
 What have you to be grateful for ? And you are losing all 
 your fun and your good spirits ; and you are getting to be 
 just like children in the story-books, that repeat texts and 
 get gooder and gooder every day until they are only fit for 
 heaven ; and I am sure I am always glad when the little 
 beasts die. Oh, Wenna, I would rather see you do the 
 wickedest thing in all the world if it would only bring you 
 back to your old self ! " 
 
 " Why, you foolish girl, I am my old self," the elder sister 
 said, quietly taking of! her bonnet and laying it on the table. 
 " Is Jennifer up-stairs ? Who is in the parlor ? " 
 
 " Oh, your sweetheart is in the parlor," said Mabyn, with 
 badly concealed contempt. " He is just arrived from London. 
 I suppose he is telling mother about his rheumatism." 
 
 " He hasn't got any rheumatism — any more than you 
 have," Wenna said, with some asperity. 
 
 " Oh yes, he has," the younger sister said, inventing a dia- 
 bolical story for the mere purpose of getting Wenna into a 
 rage. She would rather have her in a succession of tempers 
 than the victim of this chastened meekness. " And gout 
 too — I can see by the color of his nails. Of course he hasn't 
 told you, for you're such a simpleton he takes advantage of 
 you. And he is near-sighted, but he pretends he doesn't 
 
S6 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 need spectacles. And I am told he has fearful debts hang- 
 ing over his head in London, and that he only came here to 
 hide ; and if you marry him you'll see what will come to 
 you." 
 
 Mabyn was not very successful in making her sister angry. 
 Wenna only laughed in her gentle fashion, and put her light 
 shawl beside her bonnet, and then went along the passage to 
 the parlor, in which Mr. Roscorla and her mother were 
 talking. 
 
 The meeting of the lovers after their temporary separation 
 was not an impassioned one. They shook hands ; Wenna 
 hoped he was not fatigued by the long journey; and then he 
 resumed his task of describing to Mrs. Rosewarne the ex- 
 traordinary appearance of Trelyon's sitting-room in Nolan's 
 Hotel, after the young gentleman had filled it with birds and 
 beasts. Presently, however, Wenna's mother made some 
 pretence for getting out of the room, and Mr. Roscorla and 
 his betrothed were left alone. He rarely got such an op- 
 portunity. 
 
 " Wenna, I have brought you the ring," said he; and with 
 that he took a small case from his pocket, and opened it, and 
 produced a very pretty gipsy ring studded with emeralds. 
 
 Now on the journey down from London he had definitely 
 resolved that he would put an end to that embarrassment or 
 shamefacedness which had hitherto prevented his offering to 
 kiss the girl whom he expected to marry. He was aware 
 that there was something ridiculous in his not having done 
 so. He reflected that scarcely any human being would be- 
 lieve that he could have been such a fool. And it occurred 
 to him, in the train, that the occasion of his giving Wenna 
 her engaged ring would be an excellent opportunity for break- 
 ing in upon this absurd delicacy. 
 
 He went across the room to her. She sat still, perhaps a 
 little paler than usual. He took her hand, and put the ring 
 on, and then — 
 
 Then it suddenly occurred to him that there was something 
 devilish in the notion of his purchasing the right to kiss her 
 by giving her a trinket. Not that any such scruple would 
 otherwise have affected him ; but he was nervously sensitive 
 as to what she might think ; and doubtless she was familiar 
 with the story of Margarethe and Faust's casket of jewels. 
 So he suddenly said, with an air of carelessness — 
 
 " Well, do you like it ? You can't quite tell the color cf 
 the stones by lamplight, you know." 
 
 Wenna was not thinking of the color of the stones. Her 
 
THE CHAIN TIGHTENS. S7 
 
 hand trembled ; her heart beat quickly ; when she did 
 manage to answer him, it was merely to say, in a confused 
 fashion, that she thought the ring very beautiful indeed. 
 
 " You know/' he said with a laugh, " I don't think men like 
 engaged rings quite as well as girls do. A girl generally 
 seems to take such a fancy for an engaged ring that she won't 
 change it for any other. I hope that won't be in your case, 
 Wenna ; and, indeed, I wanted to talk to you about it." 
 
 He brought a chair close to her, and sat down by her, and 
 took her hand. Now, ordinarily Wenna's small, white, plump 
 hands were so warm that her sister used to say that they 
 tingled to the very tips of her fingers with kindness, and 
 were always wanting to give away something. The hand 
 which Mr. Roscorla held was as cold and as impassive as ice. 
 He did not notice it : he was engaged in preparing sen- 
 tences. 
 
 " You know, Wenna," said he, " that I am not a rich man. 
 When I might have taught myself to work I had just suf- 
 ficient income to keep me idle ; and now that this income 
 is growing less, and when I have greater claims on it, I must 
 try something. Well, my partners and myself have thought 
 of a scheme which I think will turn out all right. They pro- 
 pose to wake up those estates in Jamaica, and see if they can't 
 be made to produce something like what they used to pro- 
 duce. That wants money. They have it : I have not. It 
 is true I have been offered the loan of a few thousand 
 pounds ; but even if I accept it — and I suppose I must — that 
 would not put me on an equal footing with the other men who 
 are going into the affair. This, however, I could do : I could 
 go out there and do all in my power to look after their in- 
 terests and my own— see, in fact, that the money was being 
 properly expended, before it was too late. Now I might be 
 there a very long time." 
 
 " Yes," said Wenna, in a low voice, and rather inappro- 
 priately. 
 
 " Now don't let me alarm you ; but do you think — do you 
 not think, in view of what might be rather a long separation, 
 that we ought to get married before I go ? " 
 
 She suddenly and inadvertently withdrew her hand. 
 
 " But don't make any mistake, Wenna," he said ; " I did 
 not propose you should go with me. That would be asking 
 too much. I don't wish to take you to the West Indies ; 
 because I might be there only for a few months. All I wish 
 is to have the bond that unites us already made fast before I 
 
SS THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 go, merely as a comfortable thing to think of, don't you 
 see?" 
 
 " Oh, it is too hasty — I am afraid — why should we be in 
 such a hurry ? " the girl said, still with her heart beating so 
 that she could scarcely speak. 
 
 " No," he argued, " you must not make another mistake. 
 Before this scheme can be matured, months must elapse. I 
 may not have to go out before the beginning of next year. 
 Now surely six months would make a sufficiently long engage- 
 ment." 
 
 " Oh, but the pledge is so terrible," she said, and scarcely 
 knowing what she said. 
 
 Mr. Roscorla was at once astonished and vexed. That 
 was certainly not the mood in which a girl ought to look for- 
 ward to her marriage. He could not understand this dread 
 on her part. He began to ask himself whether she would 
 like to enjoy the self-importance that her engagement had 
 bestowed on her — the attentions he paid her, the assistance 
 he gave her in her charitable labors, and the sort of sover- 
 eignty over a man which a girl enjoys during the betrothal 
 period — for an indefinite time, or perhaps with the hope 
 that the sudden destruction of all these things by marriage 
 might never arrive at all. Then he began to get a little 
 angry, and got up from the chair, and walked once or twice 
 up and down the room. 
 
 " Well," said he, " I don't understand you, I confess. 
 Except in this way, that our relations with each other have 
 not been so openly affectionate as they might have been. 
 That I admit. Perhaps it was my fault. I suppose, for 
 example, you have been surprised that I never offered to kiss 
 you ? " 
 
 There was something almost of threat in the last few 
 words ; and Wenna, with her cheeks suddenly burning red, 
 anxiously hastened to say — 
 
 " Oh, not at all. It was my fault. I am sure if there was 
 too great reserve it was my fault ; but I do not think there 
 has been. It is not that at all ; but your wish seems so sud- 
 den, and so unnecessary." 
 
 " Don't you see," he said, interrupting her, "that if our 
 relations at present are not sufficiently frank and confidential, 
 nothing will mend that so easily as our marriage ? And this 
 that I ask cf you ought to be as agreeable to you as to me — 
 that is to say — " 
 
 He stopped, with a look of impatience on his face. There 
 was some one coming along the passage. He knew who it 
 
AN UNEXPECTED CONVERT. 89 
 
 was, too ; for a young girl's voice was doing its best to im- 
 itate in a burlesque fashion a young man's voice ; and Mr. 
 Roscorla had already heard Harry Trelyon, as he rode or 
 drove carelessly along, bawling to himself, " Oh, the men of 
 merry, merry England ! " He knew that his old enemy 
 Mabyn was at hand. 
 
 That very clever imitation of Harry Trelyon was all the 
 warning that the young lady in question condescended to give 
 of her approach. She opened the door without ceremony, 
 marched into the middle of the room, and proudly placed a 
 bird-cage on the table. 
 
 "There," said she, "can either of you tell me what that 
 bird is ? " 
 
 "Of course I can," said Wenna, rising with a sensation of 
 great relief. 
 
 " No, you can't," her sister said, dogmatically. " It is sent 
 to you with Mr. Harry Trelyon's compliments; and it is 
 something very wonderful indeed. What is it, ladies and 
 gentlemen ? Don't answer all at once ! " 
 
 " Why, it is only — " 
 
 " A piping bullfinch— that's what it is," said Mabyn, tri- 
 umphantly. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 AN UNEXPECTED CONVERT. 
 
 Next morning was Sunday morning ; and Wenna, navmg 
 many things to think over by herself, started off alone to 
 church, some little time before the others, and chose a cir- 
 cuitous route to the small building which stands on the high 
 uplands over the sea. It was a beautiful morning, still and 
 peaceful, with the warmth of the sunlight cooled by a refresh- 
 ing western breeze ; and as she went along and up the valley, 
 her heart gradually forgot its cares, for she was listening to 
 the birds singing, and picking up an occasional wild flower, 
 or watching the slow white clouds across the blue sky. And 
 as she walked quietly along in this way, finding her life the 
 sweeter for the sweet air and the abundant color and bright- 
 ness of all the things around her, it chanced that she saw 
 Harry Trelyon coming across one of the meadows, evidently 
 with the intention of bidding her good-morning; and she 
 thought she would stop and thank him for having sent her the 
 
90 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 bullfinch. This she did very prettily when he came up ; and 
 he, with something of a blush on his handsome face, said — 
 
 " I thought you wouldn't be offended. One can use more 
 freedom with you now that you are as good as married, you 
 know." 
 
 She quickly got away from that subject by asking him 
 whether he was coming to church ; and to that question he 
 replied by rather a scornful laugh, and by asking what the 
 parsons would say if he took a gun into the family pew. In 
 fact, he had brought out an air-cane to test its carrying pow- 
 ers ; and he now bore it over his shoulder. 
 
 " I think you might have left the gun at home on a Sun- 
 day morning," Miss Wenna said, in rather a precise fashion. 
 "And, do you know, Mr. Trelyon, I can't understand why 
 you should speak in that way about clergymen, when you say 
 yourself that you always avoid them, and don't know any- 
 thing about them. It reminds me of a stable-boy we once 
 had who used to amuse the other lads by being impertinent 
 to every stranger who might pass, simply because the stranger 
 was a stranger." 
 
 This was a deadly thrust ; and the tall young gentleman 
 flushed, and was obviously a trifle angry. Did she mean to 
 convey that he had acquired his manners from stable-boys ? 
 
 " Parsons and churches are too good for the likes o' me," 
 he said, contemptuously. " 'Morning, Miss Rosewarne," 
 and with that he walked off. 
 
 But about three minutes thereafter, when she was peace- 
 fully continuing her way, he overcook her again, and said to 
 her, in rather a shamefaced fashion — 
 
 " I hope you don't think I meant to be rude to you, Miss 
 Wenna. I'll go to church with you if you like. I've stuck 
 my air-cane in a safe place." 
 
 Wenna's face brightened. 
 
 " I shall be very glad," she said, with a smile far more 
 frank and friendly than any she had ever yet bestowed on 
 him. " And I am sure if you came often to hear Mr. Trew- 
 hella, or if you knew him, you would think differently about 
 clergymen." 
 
 " Oh, well," Trelyon said, " he's a good sort of old chap, I 
 think. I find no fault with him. But look at such a fellow 
 as that Barnes — why, that fellow's son was with me at Rugby, 
 and wasn't he a pretty chip of the old block — a mean, lying little 
 beggar, who would do anything to get a half-crown out of 
 you." 
 
 " Oh, were you at Rugby ? " Wenna asked, innocently. 
 
AN UNEXPECTED CONVERT. 91 
 
 " I don't wonder at your asking," her companion said, with 
 a grin. " You think it doesn't look as if I had ever been to 
 any school ? Oh yes, I was at Rugby ; and my career there, 
 if brief, was not inglorious. I think the records of all the 
 eight Houses might be searched in vain to find such another 
 ruffian as I was, or any one who managed to get into the 
 same number of scrapes in the same time. The end was 
 dramatic. They wouldn't let me go to a ball in the town- 
 hall. I had vowed I should be there ; and I got out of the 
 House at night and went. And I hadn't been in the place 
 ten minutes when I saw the very master who had refused me 
 fix his glittering eye on me ; so, as I knew it was all over, I 
 merely went up to him and asked to have the pleasure 
 of being introduced to his daughter. I thought he'd have 
 had a fit. But that little brute Barnes I was telling you 
 about, he was our champion bun-eater. At that time, you 
 know, they used to give you as many buns as ever you liked 
 on Shrove Tuesday ; and the Houses used to eat against 
 each other, and this fellow Barnes was our champion ; and, oh 
 Lord ! the number he stowed away that morning. When we 
 went to chapel afterwards, he was as green as a leek." 
 
 " But do you dislike clergymen because Master Barnes ate 
 too many buns ? " Wenna asked, with a gentle smile, which 
 rather aggrieved her companion. 
 
 " Do you know," said he, " I think you are awfully hard on 
 me. You are always trying to catch me up. Here am I 
 walking to church with you, like an angel of submission, and 
 all the thanks I get — Why, there goes my mother ! " 
 
 Just in front of them, and a short distance from the church, 
 the road they were following joined the main highway lead- 
 ing up from Eglosilyan, and along the latter Mrs Trelyon's 
 brougham was driving past. That lady was .very much 
 astonished to find her son walking with Miss Wenna Rose- 
 warne on Sunday morning"* and still more surprised when, 
 after she was in church, she beheld Master Harry walk 
 coolly in and inarch up to the family pew. Here, indeed, was 
 a revolution. Which of all the people assembled — among 
 whom were Miss Mabyn and her mother, and Mr. Roscorla 
 — had ever seen the like of this before ? And it was all the 
 greater wonder that the young gentleman in the rough shoot- 
 ing-coat found two clergymen in the pew, and nevertheless 
 entered it, and quietly accepted from one of them a couple 
 of books. 
 
 Mrs. Trelyon's gentle and emotional heart warmed towards 
 the girl who had done this thing. 
 
92 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 That forenoon, just before luncheon, Mrs. Trelyon found 
 her son in the libiary, and said to him, with an unusual kind- 
 liness of manner — 
 
 " That was Miss Rosewarne, Harry, wasn't it, whom I saw 
 this morning ? " 
 
 "Yes," he said, sulkily. He half expected that one or 
 other of his friends, the parsons, had been saying something 
 about her to his mother. 
 
 " She is a very quiet, nice-looking girl ; I am sure Mr. 
 Roscorla has acted wisely, after all. And I have been 
 thinking, Harry, that since she is a friend of yours, .we might 
 do something like what you proposed, only not in a way to 
 make people talk." 
 
 " Oh," said he, " I have done it already. I have promised 
 to lend Roscorla five thousand pounds to help him to work 
 his Jamaica estates. If you don't like to sanction the affair, 
 I can get the money from the Jews. I have written to 
 Colonel Ransome to tell him so." 
 
 " Now why should you treat me so, Harry ? " his mother 
 said. 
 
 " I took you at your word — that's all. I suppose now you 
 are better disposed to the girl merely because she got me to 
 go to church this morning. If there were more people like 
 her about churches, in the pulpits and out of them, I'd go 
 oftener." 
 
 " I was not quite sure who she was," Mrs. Trelyon said, 
 with a feeble air of apology. " I like her appearance very 
 much ; and I wish she or anybody else would induce you to 
 go to church. Well now, Harry, I will myself lend you the 
 five thousand pounds till you come of age. Surely that will 
 be much better; and if you like, I will make Miss Rose- 
 warne's acquaintance. You might ask her to dinner the first 
 time Mr. Roscorla is coming ; and he could bring her." 
 
 Master Harry was at last pacified. 
 
 " Make it Thursday," said he ; " and you will write to her, 
 won't you ? I will take down the letter and persuade her ; 
 but if she comes she shan't come under the wing of Mr. 
 Roscorla, as if he were the means of introducing her. I 
 shall go down for her with the brougham, and fetch her my- 
 self." 
 
 " But what will Mr. Roscorla say to that ? " his mother 
 asked, with a smile. 
 
 " Mr. Roscorla may say whatever he particularly pleases," 
 responded Master Harry. 
 
SIE BAT SO SANFT, SO LrEBLICH. 93 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 "SIE BAT SO SANFT, SO LIEBLICH." 
 
 "To dine at Trelyon Hall?" said George Rosewarne to 
 his eldest daughter, when she in a manner asked his consent. 
 " Why not ? But you must get a new dress, lass ; we can't 
 have you go among grand folks as Jim Crow." 
 
 " But there is a story about the crow that went out with 
 peacock's feathers," his daughter said to him. " And, 
 besides, how could I get a new dress by Thursday ? " 
 
 " How could you get a new dress by Thursday ? " her 
 father repeated mechanically, for he was watching one of his 
 pet pigeons on the roof of the mill. " How can I tell you? 
 Go and ask your mother. Don't bother me." 
 
 It is quite certain that Wenna would not have availed her- 
 self of this gracious permission — for her mother was not very 
 well, and she did not wish to increase that tender anxiety 
 which Mrs. Rosewarne already showed about her daughter's 
 going among these strangers — but that this conversation had 
 been overheard by Mabyn, and that young lady, as was her 
 habit, plunged headlong into the matter. 
 
 " You can have the dress quite well, Wenna," she said, 
 coming out to the door of the inn, and calling on her mother 
 to come too. " Now, look here, mother, I give you warning 
 that I never, never, never will speak another word to Wenna 
 if she doesn't take the silk that is lying by for me and have 
 it made up directly — never a single word, if I live in Eglo- 
 silyan for a hundred and twenty-five years ! " 
 
 " Mabyn, I don't want a new dress," Wenna expostulated. 
 " I don't need one. Why should you rush at little things as 
 if you were a squadron of cavalry ? " 
 
 " I don't care whether you want it or whether you don't 
 want it ; but you've got to have it, hasn't she, mother ? Or 
 else it's what I tell you : not a word — not a word, if you 
 were to go down before me on your bended knees." This 
 was said with much dramatic effect. 
 
 " I think you had better let Mabyn have her own way," 
 the mother said, gently. 
 
 " I let her ? " Wenna answered, pretending not to notice 
 Mabyn's look of defiance and triumph. " She always has 
 her own way ; tomboys always have." 
 
 " Don't call names, Wenna," her sister said, severely ; 
 " especially as I have just given you a dress. You'll have to 
 
94 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 get Miss Keam down directly, or else I'll go and cut it my- 
 self, and then you'll have Harry Trelyon laughing at you ; 
 for he always laughs at people who don't know how to keep 
 him in his proper place." 
 
 " Meaning yourself, Mabyn," the mother said ; but Mabyn 
 was not to be crushed by any sarcasm. 
 
 Certainly Harry Trelyon was in no laughing or spiteful 
 mood when he drove down on that Thursday evening to take 
 Wenna Rosewarne up to the Hall. He was as pleased and 
 proud as he well could be ; and when he went into the inn 
 he made no secret of his satisfaction and of his gratitude to 
 her for having been good enough to accept his mother's invi- 
 tation. Moreover, understanding that Mrs. Rosewarne was 
 still rather ailing, he had brought down for her a brace of 
 grouse from a hamper that had reached the Hall from York- 
 shire that morning; and he was even friendly and good-na- 
 tured to Mabyn instead of being ceremoniously impertinent 
 towards her. 
 
 " Don't you think, Mr. Trelyon," said Wenna, in a timid 
 way, as she was getting into the brougham — " don't you think 
 we should drive around for Mr. Roscorla ? " 
 
 " Oh, certainly not," said Mabyn, with promptitude. 
 " He always prefers a walk before dinner — I know he does 
 — he told me so. He must have started long ago. Don't 
 you mind her, Mr. Trelyon." 
 
 Mr. Trelyon was grinning as he and Wenna drove away. 
 
 " She's a thorough good sort of girl, that sister of yours," 
 he said ; "but when she marries won't she lead her husband a 
 pretty dance ! " 
 
 " Oh, nothing of the sort, I can assure you," Wenna said, 
 sharply. " She is as gentle as any one can well be. If she 
 is impetuous, it is always in thinking of other people. There 
 is nothing she wouldn't do to serve those whom she really 
 cares for." 
 
 " Well," said he, with a laugh, " I never knew two girls stick 
 up so for one another. Don't imagine I was such a fool as 
 to say anything against her. But sisters ain't often like that. 
 My cousin Jue has a sister at school, and when she's at home 
 the bullying that goes on is something awful ; or rather it's- 
 nagging and scratching, for girls never go in for a fair stand- 
 up light. And yet when you meet these two separately, you 
 find each of them as good-natured and good-tempered as you 
 could wish. But if there's anything said about you anywhere 
 that isn't positive worship, why Mabyn comes down on the 
 
SIE BA T SO SANFTy SO LIEBLICH. 95 
 
 people like a cart-load of bricks ; and she can do it, mind 
 you, when she likes." 
 
 " Remember," he said, after a word or two, " I mean to 
 take you in to dinner. It is just possible my mother may 
 ask Mr. Roscorla to take you in, as a compliment to him ; 
 but don't you go." 
 
 " I must do what I am told," Wenna answered, meekly. 
 
 " Oh no, you mustn't," he said. " That is merely a girl's 
 notion of what is proper. You are a woman now ; you can 
 do what you like. Don't you know how your position is 
 changed since you became engaged ? " 
 
 " Yes, it is changed," she said ; and then she added 
 quickly, " Surely that must be a planet that one can see 
 already." 
 
 11 You can be much more independent in your actions now, 
 and much more friendly with many people, don't you know ? " 
 said this young man, who did not see that he was treading on 
 very delicate ground, and that of all things in the world that 
 Wenna least liked to hear spoken of, her engagement to Mr. 
 Roscorla was the chief. 
 
 Late that night, when Wenna returned from her first din- 
 ner-party at Trelyon Hall, she found her sister Mabyn wait- 
 ing up for her, and, having properly scolded the young lady 
 for so doing, she sat down and consented to give her an am- 
 ple and minute description of all the strange things that had 
 happened. 
 
 " Well, you must know," said she, folding her hands on 
 her knees as she had been used to do in telling tales to 
 Mabyn when they were children together — " you must know 
 that when we drove up through the trees, the house seemed 
 very big and gray and still ; for it was getting dark, and 
 there was no sound about the place. It was so ghost-like 
 that it rather frightened me ; but in the hall we passed the 
 door of a large room, and there I got a glimpse of a very 
 gay and brilliant place, and I heard some people talking. 
 Mr. Trelyon was waiting for me when I came down again, 
 and he took me into the drawing-room and introduced me to 
 his mother, who was very kind to me, but did not seem in- 
 clined to speak much to any one. There was no other lady 
 in the room — only those two clergymen who were in church 
 last Sunday, and Mr. Trewhella and Mr. Roscorla. I thought 
 Mr. Roscorla was a little embarrassed when he came forward 
 to shake hands with me — and that was natural, for all the 
 people must have known — and he looked at my dress the 
 moment I entered the room ; and then, Mabyn, I did thank 
 
9 6 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 you in my heart for letting me have it ; for I had forgotten 
 that Mr. Roscorla would regard me as being on my trial, and 
 I hope he was not ashamed of me." 
 
 " Ashamed of you!" said Mabyn, with a sudden flash 
 of anger. " Do you mean that he was on his trial ? " 
 
 " Be quiet. Well, you must know that Mr. Trelyon was 
 in very high spirits, but I never saw him so good-natured, 
 and he must needs take me in to dinner, and I sat on 
 his right hand. Mrs. Trelyon told me it was only a quiet 
 little family party; and I said I was very glad. Do you 
 know, Mabyn, there is something about her that you can't 
 help, liking— I think it is her voice and her soft way of 
 looking at you; but she is so very gentle and ordinarily 
 so silent, that she makes you feel as if you were a very for- 
 ward and talkative and rude person — ' 
 
 " That is precisely what you are, Wenna," Mabyn observed, 
 in her school-girl sarcasm. 
 
 " But Mr. Trelyon, he was talking to everybody at once 
 — all around the table — I never saw him in such spirits ; 
 and most of all he was very kind to Mr. Trewhella, and I 
 liked him for that. He told me he had asked Mr. Trew- 
 hella because I was coming ; and one thing I noticed was 
 that he was always sending the butler to fill Mr. Trewhella's 
 glass, or to offer him some different wine, whereas he let 
 the other two clergymen take their chance. Mr. Roscorla 
 was at the other end of the table—he took in Mrs. Trel- 
 yon — i hope he was not vexed that I did not have a chance 
 of speaking to him the whole evening ; but how ^ could I 
 help it ? He would not come near me in the drawing-room 
 — perhaps that was proper, considering that we are engaged ; 
 only I hope he is not vexed." 
 
 For once Miss Mabyn kept a hold over her tongue, and 
 not reveal the thoughts that were uppermost in her mind. 
 
 " Well, after dinner Mrs. Trelyon and I went back to 
 the drawing-room ; and it was very brilliant and beautiful ; 
 but, oh ! one felt so much alone in the big place that I 
 was glad when she asked me if I would play something 
 for her. It was something to think about; but I had no 
 music, and I had to begin and recollect all sorts of pieces 
 that I had almost forgotten. At first she was at the other 
 end of the room, in a low easy-chair of rose-colored ^ silk, 
 and she looked really very beautiful and sad, and as if she 
 were dreaming. But by and by she came over and sat 
 by the piano ; and it was as if you were playing to a ghost, 
 that listened without speaking. I played one or two of 
 
SIE BA T SO SANFT, SO LIEBLICH. 97 
 
 the ' Songs without Words ' — those I could recollect easily 
 — then Beethoven's ' Farewell ; ' but while I was playing that 
 I happened to turn a little bit, and, do you know, she 
 was crying in a quiet and silent way. Then she put her 
 hand gently on my arm, and I stopped playing, but I did 
 not turn towards her, for there was something so strange 
 and sad in seeing her cry that I was nearly crying myself, 
 and I did not know what was troubling her. Then, do 
 you know, Mabyn, she rose and put her hand on my 
 head, and said, ' I hear you are a very good girl ; I hope 
 you will come and see me.' Then I told her I was 
 sorry that something I had played had troubled her; 
 and as I saw she was still distressed, I was very glad when 
 she asked me if 1 would put on a hood and shawl, and 
 take a turn with her round some of the paths outside. It 
 is such a beautiful night to-night, Mabyn, and up there, 
 where you seemed to be just under the stars, the scents of 
 the flowers were so sweet. Sometimes we walked under 
 the trees, almost in darkness, and then we would come out 
 on the clear space of the lawn, and find the skies overhead, 
 and then we would go into the rose-garden, and all the 
 time she was no longer like a ghost, but talking to me as 
 if she had known me a long time. And she is such a strange 
 woman, Mabyn — she seems to live so much apart from other 
 people and to look at everything just as it affects herself. 
 Fancy a harp, you know, never thinking of the music it 
 was making ; but looking all the time at the quivering of 
 its own. strings. I hope I did not offend her ; for when she 
 was saying some very friendly things about me — of course 
 Mr. Trelyon had been telling her a heap of nonsense — about 
 helping people and that, she seemed to think that the only 
 person to be considered in such cases was yourself, and 
 not those whom you might try to help. Well, when she 
 was talking about the beautiful sensations of being benev- 
 olent — and how it softened your heart and refined your 
 feelings to be charitable — I am afraid I said something 
 I should not have said, for she immediately turned and asked 
 me what more I would have her do. Well, I thought to 
 myself, if I have offended her, it's done and can't be helped ; 
 and so I plunged into the very thing I had been thinking 
 of all the way in the brougham — '* 
 
 " The Sewing Club ! " said Mabyn ; for Wenna had already 
 spoken of her dark and nefarious scheme to her sister. 
 
 " Yes ; once I was in it, I told her of the whole affair; and 
 what she could do if she liked. She was surprised, and I 
 
98 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 think a little afraid. * I do not know the people,' she said, 
 ' as you do. But I should be delighted to give you all the 
 money you required, if you would undertake the rest.' ' Oh 
 no, madame,' said I (afterwards she asked me not to call her 
 so), 'that is impossible. I have many things to do at home, 
 especially at present, for my mother is not well. What little 
 time I can give to other people has many calls on it. And I 
 could not do all this by myself.' " 
 
 " I should think not," said Mabyn, rising up in great indig- 
 nation, and beginning to walk up and down the room. " Why, 
 Wenna, they'd work your fingers to the bone, and never say 
 thank you. You do far too much already — I say vou do far 
 too much already — and the idea that you should do that ! 
 You may say what you like about Mrs. Trelyon— she may be 
 a very good lady, but I consider it nothing less than mean- — 
 I consider it disgraceful, mean, and abominably wicked that 
 she should ask vou to do all this work and do nothing her- 
 self ! " 
 
 " My dear child," said Wenna, " you are quite unjust. Mrs. 
 Trelyon is neither mean nor wicked ; but she was in ignor- 
 ance, and she is timid, and unused to visiting poor people. 
 When I showed her that no one in Eglosilyan could so effect- 
 ively begin the Club as herself — and that the reckless giving 
 of money that she seemed inclined to was the worst sort of 
 kindness — and when I told her of all my plans of getting the 
 materials wholesale, and making the husbands subscribe and 
 the women sew, and all that I have told you, she took to the 
 plan with an almost childish enthusiasm ; and now it is quite 
 settled, and the only danger is that she may destroy the pur- 
 pose of it by being over-generous. Don't you see, Mabyn, it 
 is her first effort in actual and practical benevolence — she 
 seems hitherto only to have satisfied her sense of duty or 
 pleased her feelings by giving checks to public charities — and 
 she is already only a little too eager and interested in it. She 
 doesn't know what a slow and wearisome thing it is to give 
 some little help to your neighbors discreetly." 
 
 "Oh, Wenna," her sister said, "what a manager you are ! 
 Sometimes I think you must be a thousand years of age ; and 
 other times you seem so silly about your own affairs that I 
 can't understand you. Did Mr. Roscorla bring you home ? " 
 
 " No, but he came in the brougham along with Mr. Trelyon. 
 There was a great deal of joking about the conquest — so they 
 said — I had made of Mrs. Trelyon ; but you see how it all 
 came about, Mabyn. She was so interested in this scheme — " 
 
 " Oh yes , I see how it all came about," said Mabyn, quite 
 
A LEAVE-TAKING OF LOVERS. 99 
 
 contentedly. " And now you are very tired, you poor little 
 thing, and I sha'n't ask you any more about your dinner-party 
 to-night. Here is a candle." 
 
 Wenna was just going into her own room, when her sister 
 turned and said — 
 
 "Wenna?" 
 
 "Yes, dear." 
 
 " Do you think that his Royal Highness Mr. Roscorla con- 
 descended to be pleased with your appearance and your 
 manners and your dress ? " 
 
 "Don't you ask impertinent questions," said Wenna, as 
 she shut the door. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 A LEAVE-TAKING OF LOVERS. 
 
 Wenna had indeed made a conquest of the pale and gentle 
 lady up at the Hall, which at another time might have been 
 attended with important results to the people of Eglosilyan. 
 But at this period of the year the Trelyons were in the habit 
 of leaving Cornwall for a few months ; Mrs. Trelyon generally 
 going to some Continental watering-place, while her son pro- 
 ceeded to accept such invitations as he could get to shoot in 
 the English counties. This autumn Harry Trelyon accom- 
 panied his mother as far as Etretat, where a number of her 
 friends had made up a small party. From this point she 
 wrote to Wenna, saying how sorry she was she could not per- 
 sonally help in founding that Sewing Club, but offering to 
 send a handsome subscription. Wenna answered the letter 
 in a dutiful spirit, but firmly declined the offer. Then noth- 
 ing was heard of the Trelyons for a long time, except that 
 now and again a hamper of game would make its appearance 
 at Eglosilyan, addressed to Miss Wenna Rosewarne in a 
 sprawling school-boy's hand, which she easily recognized. 
 Master Harry was certainly acting on his own theory that 
 now she was engaged he could give her presents, or other- 
 wise be as familiar and friendly with her as he pleased. 
 
 It was a dull, slow, and dreary winter. Mr. Roscorla was 
 deeply engaged with his Jamaica project, and was occasion- 
 ally up in London for a fortnight at a time. He had got the 
 money from young Trelyon, and soon hoped to set out — as he 
 told Wenna — to make his fortune. She put no obstacle in his 
 
ioo THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 way, nor did she encourage him to go ; it was for him to de- 
 cide, and she would abide by his decision. For the rest, he 
 never revived that request of his that they should be married 
 before he went. 
 
 Eglosilyan in winter-time is a very different place from the 
 Eglosilyan of the happy summer months. The wild coast is 
 sombre and gloomy. The uplands are windy and bleak and 
 bare. There is no shining plain of blue lying around the land, 
 but a dark and cheerless sea, that howls in the night-time as 
 it beats on the mighty walls of black rock. It is rather a re- 
 lief, indeed — to break the mournful silence of those project- 
 ing cliffs and untenanted bays — when the heavens are shaken 
 with a storm, and when the gigantic waves wash into the 
 small harbor, so that the coasters seeking shelter there have 
 to be scuttled and temporarily sunk in order to save them. 
 Then there are the fierce rains, to guard against which the 
 seaward-looking houses have been faced with slate ; and the 
 gardens get dank and wet, and the ways are full of mire, and 
 no one dares venture out on the slippery cliffs. It was a 
 tedious and a cheerless winter. 
 
 Then Mrs. Rosewarne was more or less of an invalid the 
 most of the time, and Wenna was much occupied by house- 
 hold cares. Occasionally, when her duties indoors and in 
 the cottages of her humble friends had been got over, she 
 would climb up the hill on the other side of the mill-stream 
 to have a look around her. One seemed to breathe more 
 freely up there among the rocks and furze than in small par- 
 lors or kitchens where children had to be laboriously taught. 
 And yet the picture was not cheerful. A gray and leaden 
 sea — a black line of cliffs standing sharp against it until lost 
 in the mist of the south — the green slopes over the cliffs 
 touched here and there with the brown of withered bracken 
 — then down in the two valleys the leafless trees and gardens 
 and cottages of Eglosilyan, the slates ordinarily shining wet 
 with the rain. One day Wenna received a brief little letter 
 from Mrs. Trelyon, who was at Mentone, and who said some- 
 thing about the balmy air, and the beautiful skies, and the 
 blue water around her; and the girl, looking out on the 
 hard and stern features of this sombre coast, wondered how 
 such things could be. 
 
 Somehow there was so much ordinary and commonplace 
 work to do that Wenna almost forgot that she was engaged; 
 and Mr. Roscorla, continually occupied with his new project, 
 seldom cared to remind her that they were on the footing of 
 sweethearts. Their relations were of an eminently friendly 
 
A LEAVE-TAKING OE LOVERS. id 
 
 character, but little more — in view ''oVi'hk iVyrthcorhirig' separa- 
 tion he scarcely thought it worth whije to b aye them anything 
 more. Sometimes he was inclined to ajiclo.H^e' to her for the 
 absence of sentiment and romanticism which marked their in- 
 timacy ; but the more he saw of her the more he perceived 
 that she did not care for that sort of thing, and was, indeed, 
 about as anxious to avoid it as he was himself. She kept 
 their engagement a secret. He once offered her his arm in 
 going home from church; she made some excuse, and he 
 did not repeat the offer. When he came in of an evening 
 to have a chat with George Rosewarne, they talked about 
 the subjects of the day as they had been accustomed to do 
 long before this engagement ; and Wenna sat and sewed in 
 silence, or withdrew to a side-table to make up her account- 
 books. Very rarely indeed — thanks to Miss Mabyn, whose 
 hostilities had never ceased — had he a chance of seeing his 
 betrothed alone, and then, somehow, their conversation invari- 
 ably took a practical turn. It was not a romantic courtship. 
 
 He considered her a very sensible girl. He was glad that 
 his choice was approved by his reason. She was not beauti- 
 ful ; but she had qualities that would last — intelligence, sweet- 
 ness, and a sufficient fund of gentle humor to keep a man in 
 good spirits. She was not quite in his own sphere of life ; 
 but then, he argued with himself, a man ought always to marry 
 a woman who is below him rather than above him — in social 
 position, or in wealth, or in brain, or in all three — for then 
 she is all the more likely to respect and obey him, and to be 
 grateful to him. Now, if you do not happen to have won the 
 deep and fervent love of a woman — a thing that seldom oc- 
 curs — gratitude is a very good substitute. Mr. Roscorla was 
 quite content. 
 
 "Wenna," said he, one day after they had got into the 
 new year, and when one had begun to look forward to the 
 first # indications of spring in that southern county, " the 
 whole affair is now afloat, and it is time I should be too — 
 forgive the profound witticism. Everything has been done 
 out there; we can do no more here; and my partners think 
 I should sail about the fifteenth of next month." 
 
 Was he asking her permission, or expecting some utter- 
 ance of regret that he looked at her so? She cast down her 
 eyes, and said, rather timidly — 
 
 " I hope you will have a safe voyage — and be successful." 
 
 He was a little disappointed that she said nothing more ; 
 but he himself immediately proceeded to deal with the as- 
 pects of the case in a most business-like manner. 
 
102 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 "And ilren," said' he, •' "'I don't want to put you to the 
 pain of taking a formal and solemn farewell as the ship sails. 
 One al a ays f^ls downhearted" in watching a ship go away, 
 even though there is no reason. I must go to London in 
 any case for a few days before sailing, and so I thought that 
 if you wouldn't mind coming as far as Launceston — with 
 your mother or sister — you could drive back here without 
 any bother." 
 
 " If you do not think it unkind," said Wenna, in a low 
 voice, " I should prefer that ; for I could not take mamma 
 farther than Launceston, I think." 
 
 " I shall never think anything you do unkind," said he. 
 "I do not think you are capable of unkindness." 
 
 He wished at this moment to add something about her en- 
 gaged ring, but could not quite muster up courage. He 
 paused for a minute, and became embarrassed, and then told 
 her what a first-class cabin to Jamaica would cost. 
 
 And at length the day came round. The weather had 
 been bitterly cold and raw for the previous two or three 
 weeks ; though it was March the world seemed still frozen 
 in the grasp of winter. Early on this bleak and gray fore- 
 noon Mr. Roscorla walked down to the inn, and found the 
 wagonette at the door. His luggage had been sent on to 
 Southampton some days before ; he was ready to start at 
 once. 
 
 Wenna was a little pale and nervous when she came out 
 and got into the wagonette ; but she busied herself in wrap- 
 ping abundant rugs and shawls around her mother, who pro- 
 tested against being buried alive. 
 
 " Good-bye," said her father, shaking hands with Mr. Ros- 
 corla carelessly, " I hope you'll have a fine passage. Wenna, 
 don't forget to' ask for those cartridge-cases as you drive back 
 from the station." 
 
 But Miss Mabyn's method of bidding him farewell was far 
 more singular. With an affectation of playfulness she offered 
 him both her hands, and so, making quite sure that she had 
 a grip on the left hand of that emerald ring that had afforded 
 her much consolation, she said — 
 
 " Good-bye. I hope you will get safely out to Jamaica." 
 
 " And back again ? " said he, with a laugh. 
 
 Mabyn said nothing, turned away, and pretended to be ex- 
 amining the outlines of the wagonette. Nor did she speak 
 again to any one until the small party drove away ; and then, 
 when they had got over the bridge and along the valley, and 
 
A LEAVE-TAKING OF LOVERS. 103 
 
 up and over the hill, she suddenly ran to her father, flung 
 her arms around his neck, kissed him, and cried out — 
 
 " Hurrah ! the horrid creature is gone, and he'll never 
 come back — never ! " 
 
 " Mabyn," said her father, in a peevish ill-temper, as he 
 stooped to pick up the broken pipe which she had caused him 
 to let fall, " I wish you wouldn't be such a fool." 
 
 But Mabyn was not to be crushed. She said, " Poor dadda, 
 has it broken its pipe ? " and then she walked off, with her 
 head very erect, and a very happy light on her face, while 
 she sang to herself, after the manner of an acquaintance of 
 hers, "Oh, the men of merry, merry England ! " 
 
 There was less cheerfulness in that wagonette that was 
 making its way across the bleak uplands — a black speck in 
 the gray and wintry landscape. Wenna was really sorry that 
 this long voyage, and all its cares and anxieties, should lie 
 before one who had been so kind to her ; it made her miser- 
 able to think of his going away into strange lands all by himself, 
 with little of the buoyancy and restlessness and ambition of 
 youth to bear him up. As for him, he was chiefly occupied 
 during this silent drive across to Launceston in nursing the 
 fancy that he was going out to fight the world for her sake — 
 as a younger man might have done — and that, if he returned 
 successful, her gratitude would be added to the substantial 
 results of his trip. It rather pleased him to imagine himself 
 in this position. After all, he was not so very elderly ; and 
 he was in very good preservation for his years. He was 
 more than a match in physique, in hopefulness, and in a 
 knowledge of the world that ought to stand him in good stead 
 for many a younger man who, with far less chances of suc- 
 cess, was bent on making a fortune for the sake of some par- 
 ticular girl. 
 
 He was not displeased to see that she was sorry about his 
 going away. She would soon get over that. He had no 
 wish that she should continually mope in his absence ; nor 
 did he, indeed, believe that any sensible girl would do any- 
 thing of the sort. 
 
 At the same time he had no fear whatever as to her re- 
 maining constant to him. A girl altogether out of the way of 
 meeting marriageable young men would be under no tempta- 
 tion to let her fancies rove. Moreover, Wenna Rosewarne 
 had something to gain in social position by her marriage 
 with him, which she could not be so blind as to ignore ; and 
 had she not, too, the inducement of waiting to see whether he 
 might not bring back a fortune to her ? But the real cause 
 
104 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 of his trust in her was that experience of her uncompro- 
 mising sincerity and keen sense of honor that he had acquired 
 during a long and sufficiently intimate friendship. If the 
 thought of her breaking her promise ever occurred to him, it 
 was not as a serious possibility, but as an idle fancy, to be 
 idly dismissed. 
 
 " You are very silent," he said to her. 
 
 " I am sorry you are going away," she said, simply and 
 honestly ; and the admission pleased and flattered him. 
 
 " You don't give me courage," he said, laughingly. " You 
 ought to consider that I am going out into the world — even 
 at my time of life — to get a lot of money and come back to 
 make a grand lady of you." 
 
 " Oh ! " said she, in sudden alarm — for such a thought had 
 never entered her head — " I hope you are not going away on 
 my account. You know that I wish for nothing of that kind. 
 I hope you did not consider me in resolving to go to Jamaica ! " 
 
 " Well, of course I considered you," said he, good-naturedly ; 
 " but don't alarm yourself ; I should have gone if I had 
 never seen you. But naturally I have an additional motive 
 in going when I look at the future." 
 
 That was not a pleasant thought for Wenna Rosewarne. 
 It was not likely to comfort her on stormy nights, when she 
 might lie awake and think of a certain ship at sea. She had 
 acquiesced in his going, as in one of those things which men 
 do because they are men, and seem bound to satisfy their 
 ambition with results which women might consider unneces- 
 sary. But that she should have exercised any influence on 
 his decision — that alarmed her with a new sense of respon- 
 sibility, and she began to wish that he could suddenly drop 
 this project, have the wagonette turned around, and drive 
 back to the quiet content and small economies and peace- 
 ful work of Eglosilyan. 
 
 They arrived in good time at Launceston, and went for a 
 stroll up to the fine old castle while luncheon was being got 
 ready at the hotel. Wenna did not seem to regard that as a 
 very enticing meal when they sat down to it. The talk was 
 kept up chiefly by her mother and Mr. Roscorla, who spoke 
 of life on shipboard, and the best means of killing the tedium 
 of it. Mr. Roscorla said he would keep a journal all the 
 time he was away, and send instalments from time to time to 
 Wenna. 
 
 They walked from the hotel down to the station. Just 
 outside the station they saw a landau, drawn by a pair of 
 beautiful grays, which were being walked up and down. 
 
A LEAVE-TAKING OE LOVERS. 
 
 105 
 
 " Surely those are Mrs. Trelyon's horses," Wenna said ; 
 and as the carriage, which was empty, came nearer, the 
 coachman touched his hat. " Perhaps she is coming back to 
 the Hall to-day." 
 
 The words were uttered carelessly, for she was thinking of 
 other things. When they at last stood on the platform, and 
 Mr. Roscorla had chosen his seat, he could see that she was 
 paler than ever. He spoke in a light and cheerful way, 
 mostly to her mother, until the guard requested him to get 
 into the carriage, and then he turned to the girl and took her 
 hand. 
 
 " Good-bye, my dear Wenna," said he. " God bless you ! 
 I hope you will write to me often." 
 
 Then he kissed her cheek, shook hands with her again, 
 and got into the carriage. She had not spoken a word. Her 
 lips were trembling — she could not speak — and he saw it. 
 
 When the train went slowly out of the station, Wenna 
 stood and looked after it with something of a mist before her 
 eyes, until she could see nothing of the handkerchief that 
 was being waved from one of the carriage windows. She 
 stood quite still, until her mother put her hand on her shoul- 
 der, and then she turned and walked away with her. They 
 had not gone three yards when they were met by a tall young 
 man who had come rushing down the hill and through the 
 small station-house. 
 
 " By Jove ! " said he, " I am just too late. How do you 
 do, Mrs. Rosewarne? How are you, Wenna?" — and then 
 he paused, and a great blush overspread his face — for the girl 
 looked up at him and took his hand silently, and he could 
 see there were tears in her eyes. It occurred to him that he 
 had no business there — and yet he had come on an errand 
 of kindness. So he said, with some little embarrassment, to 
 Mrs. Rosewarne — " I heard you were coming over to this 
 train, and I was afraid you would find the drive back in the 
 wagonette rather cold this evening. I have got our landau 
 outside — closed, you know — and I thought you might let me 
 drive you over." Mrs. Rosewarne looked at her daugh- 
 ter. Wenna decided all such things, and the girl said to 
 him, in a low voice — 
 
 " It is very kind of you." 
 
 "Then just give me a second, that I may tell your man," 
 Trelyon said, and off he darted. 
 
 Was it his respect for W'enna's trouble, or had it been his 
 knocking about among strangers for six months, that seemed 
 to Jiave given to the young man (at least in Mrs. Rosewarne's 
 
106 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 eyes) something of a more courteous and considerate man- 
 ner? When the three of them were being rapidly whirled 
 along the Launceston highway in Mrs. Trelyon's carriage 
 Harry Trelyon was evidently bent on diverting Wenna's 
 thoughts from her present cares ; and he told stories and 
 asked questions, and related his recent adventures in such a 
 fashion that the girl's face gradually lightened, and she grew 
 interested and pleased. She, too, thought he was much im- 
 proved — how she could not exactly tell. 
 
 " Come," said he, at last, "you must not be very down- 
 hearted about a mere holiday trip. You will soon get letters, 
 you know, telling you all about the strange places abroad ; 
 and then, before you know where you are, you'll have to 
 drive over to the station, as you did to-day, to meet Mr. Ros- 
 corla coming back." 
 
 " It may be a very long time indeed," Wenna said ; " and 
 if he should come to any harm I shall know that I was the 
 cause of it ; for if it had not been for me, I don't believe he 
 would have gone." 
 
 " Oh, that is quite absurd ! — begging your pardon," said 
 Master Harry, coolly. " Roscorla got a chance of making 
 some money, and he took it, as any other man would. You 
 had no more to do with it than I had — indeed, I had some- 
 thing to do with it — but that's a secret. No ; don't you make 
 any mistake about that. And he'll be precious well off when 
 he's out there, and seeing everything going on smoothly, es- 
 pecialy when he gets a letter from you, with a Cornish prim- 
 rose or violet in it. And you'll get that boon now," he ad- 
 ded quickly, seeing that Wenna blushed somewhat ; " for I 
 fancy there's a sort of smell in the air this afternoon that 
 means spring-time. I think the wind has been getting round 
 to the west all day ; before night you will find a difference in 
 the air, I can tell you." 
 
 " I think it has become very fresh and mild already," 
 Wenna said, judging by an occasional breath of wind that 
 came in at the top of the windows. 
 
 " Do you think you could bear the landau open ? " said he, 
 eagerly. 
 
 When they stopped to try — when they opened the windows 
 — the predictions of the weather prophet had already been 
 fulfilled, and a strange, genial mildness and freshness pervad- 
 ed the air. They were now near Eglosilyan, on the brow of 
 a hill, and away below them they could see the sea lying dull 
 and gray under the cloudy sky. But while they waited H? 
 th£ coachman to uncover the landau, a soft and yellow light be- 
 
THE FAIR SPRING-TIME. 107 
 
 gan to show itself far out in the west, a break appeared in 
 the clouds, and a vast comb of gold shot shining down on the 
 plain of water beneath. The western skies were opening up ; 
 and what with this new and beautiful light, and what with 
 the sweet air that awoke a thousand pleasant and pathetic 
 memories, it seemed to Wenna Rosewarne that the tender 
 spring-time was at length at hand, with all its wonder of yel- 
 low crocuses and pale snowdrops, and the first faint shimmer- 
 ings of green on the hedges and woods. Her eyes filled with 
 tears— she knew not why. Surely she was not old enough 
 to know anything of the sadness that comes to^ some when 
 the heavens are cleared, and a new life stirs in the trees, 
 and the world awakes to the fairness of the spring. She 
 was only eighteen ; she had a lover ; and she was as certain 
 of his faithfulness as of her own. 
 
 In bidding them good-bye at the door of the inn, Mr. 
 Harry Trelyon told them th?t he meant to remain in Eglo- 
 silyan for some months to come. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE FAIR SPRING-TLME. 
 
 The spring-time had indeed arrived — rapidly and imper- 
 ceptibly ; and all at once it seemed as if the world had grown 
 green, and the skies fair and clear, and the winds sweet with a 
 new and delightful sweetness. Each morning that Wenna went 
 out brought some further wonder with it — along the budding 
 hedge-rows, in the colors of the valley, in the fresh warmth of 
 the air, and the white light of the skies. And at last the sea 
 began to show its deep and resplendent summer blue, when 
 the morning happened to be still, and there was a silvery 
 haze along the coast. 
 
 " Mabyn, is your sister at home ? And do you think she 
 could go up to the Hall for a little while, for my mother wants 
 to see her? And do you think she would walk around by 
 the cliffs — for it is such a capital morning — if you came with 
 her ? " 
 
 "Oh yes, Mr. Trelyon," said Mabyn, readily, and with far 
 more respect and courtesy than she usually showed to the 
 young gentleman, " I am quite sure Wenna can go ; and I 
 know she would like to walk around by the cliffs — she is al- 
 ways glad to do that — and I will tell her to get ready instantly. 
 
idS THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 But I can't go, Mr. Trelyon — I am exceedingly busy this 
 morning." 
 
 " Why, you have been reading a novel ! " 
 
 " But I am about to be exceedingly busy," said Mabyn, 
 petulantly. " You can't expect people to be always working 
 and — I tell you I can't go with you, Mr. Trelyon." 
 
 " Oh, very well," said he, carelessly ; "you needn't show 
 your temper." 
 
 " My temper ! " said Mabyn ; but then recollecting herself, 
 and smiling derisively, went away to fetch her sister. 
 
 When Wenna came outside into the white sunlight, and 
 went forward to shake hands with him, with her dark eyes lit 
 up by a friendly smile, it seemed to him that not for many a 
 day — not certainly during all the time of her engagement with 
 Mr. Roscorla — had he seen her look so pleased, happy, and 
 contented. She still bore that quiet gravity of demeanor 
 which had made him call her the little Puritan, and there was 
 the same earnestness in her eyes as they regarded any one ; 
 but there was altogether a brighter aspect about her face 
 that pleased him exceedingly. For he was very well disposed 
 to this shy and yet matter-of-fact young lady, and was alter- 
 nately amused by the quaintness of her motherly ways in 
 dealing with the people about her, and startled into admira- 
 tion by some sudden glimpse of the fine sincerity of her na- 
 ture. He had done more to please her — he had gone to church 
 several times, and tried to better his handwriting, and re- 
 solved to be more careful in speaking of parsons in her pres- 
 ence — than he ever thought he could have done to please 
 any woman. 
 
 So these two set forth on this bright and cheerful morning ; 
 and one would have said, to see them as they went, that two 
 happier young folks were not within the county of Cornwall 
 at that moment. Wenna had a pleasant word for every one 
 that passed ; and when they had gone by the mill, and reached 
 the narow path by the tiny harbor, where no more neighbors 
 were to be seen, she appeared to transfer her abounding sym- 
 pathy to all the objects around her, and she spoke to them 
 and laughed to them, so that all the world seemed to be 
 friendly with her. Her sister used to say that her fingers 
 tingled to the very tips with kindness ; and at this moment 
 she seemed as though she could have kissed her hand to all 
 the birds and animals around, and wished them joy that they 
 had so ruie a morning. 
 
 " Ho, ho ! Mr. Porpoise," she laughed and said, as she saw 
 far below her a big fish slowly heel over in the blue water of 
 
THE FAIR SPRING-TIME. 109 
 
 the harbor ; " don't you come too far up, or you won't like 
 the stones in the stream, I know ! " 
 
 There was a hawk hovering high in the air over Blackcliff 
 — Trelyon was watching it keenly. 
 
 " Oh, go away, you bad bird," she cried, " and let the poor 
 little things alone ! " And, sure enough, at this moment the 
 motionless speck up there began to flutter its wings, and pres- 
 ently it sailed away over the cliff and was seen no more. 
 
 " Mother Sheep," she said to the inattentive custodian of 
 two very small lambs with very thick legs and uncertain gait, 
 " why don't you look after your children ? you'll have them 
 tumbling down the rocks into the sea in about a minute — 
 that's about what you'll do ! " 
 
 " Boom ! " she said to a great humble-bee that flew heavily 
 by ; and to a white butterfly that went this way and that over 
 the warm grass on the hill-side she called out, " My pretty 
 lady, aren't you glad the summer is coming? " 
 
 She talked to the white and grey gulls that were wheeling 
 over the sea, and to the choughs flying hither and thither 
 about the steep precipices of the cliff. They did not answer 
 her ; but that was no matter. From her childhood she had be- 
 lieved that she knew them all, and that they knew her ; and 
 that even the cliffs and the sea and the clouds regarded her, 
 and spoke to her in a strange and silent fashion. Once she 
 had come back from the mouth of the harbor on a sultry after- 
 noon, when as yet the neighbors had heard nothing of the 
 low mutterings of the distant and coming storm ; and when 
 her mother asked the child why she was so silent, she said, 
 " I have been listening to God walking on the sea." 
 
 Well, they sat down on a seat which fronted the wide opening 
 in the cliffs and the great plain of the Atlantic beyond, that was 
 this morning of a light and sunny sea-green, with here and 
 there broad purple stains of shadow as the summer clouds 
 passed rapidly over the sky from the west. In the warm sun- 
 shine, the gorse on the hill behind them and the grass on the 
 pasture-land sweetened the air. The wind blew fresh in from 
 the sea ; and as the green waves broke white along the rocks 
 beneath them, the brisk breeze carried with it a flavor of salt 
 from the fine clouds of the spray. The spring-time seemed 
 to have given life and color to the sea as well as to the land, 
 for all the world was brilliant with the new brightness of the 
 skies. 
 
 "And isn't it first-rate," said Master Harry, wishing to say 
 something very pleasant to his companion, " that Mr. Ros- 
 corla is having such fine weather on his way out? I am sure 
 
i to THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 you would have been very anxious if there had been any 
 storms about. I hope he will be successful ; he's a good sort 
 of fellow." 
 
 No one who was not acquainted with this young gentleman 
 could have guessed at the dire effort he had to make in order 
 to pronounce these few sentences. He was not accustomed 
 to say formally civil things. He was very bad at paying com- 
 pliments ; and as for saying anything friendly of Mr. Roscorla, 
 he had to do it with a mental grimace. But Wenna was very 
 familiar with the lad and bis ways. At another time she 
 would have been amused and pleased to observe his endeav- 
 ors to be polite ; and now, if she hastened away from the sub- 
 ject, it was only because she never heard Mr. Roscorla's 
 name mentioned without feeling embarrassment and showing 
 it. She murmured something about a hope that Mr. Roscorla 
 would not find the voyage to Jamaica fatiguing ; and then, 
 somewhat hastily, drew her companion's attention to another 
 porpoise which was showing itself from time to time outside 
 the rocks. 
 
 " I wish Roscorla had made me your guardian in h's ab- 
 sence," said this blundering young man, who was determined 
 to be on his best behavior. " I quite agree with Mabyn that 
 you overwork yourself in doing for other people what the lazy 
 beggars ought to do for themselves. Oh, I know more than 
 you think. I'd wake some of them up if I had the chance. 
 Why, they look on you as a sort of special Providence, bound 
 to rescue them at any moment. I was told only yesterday of 
 old Mother Truscott having said to a neighbor, ' Well, if Miss 
 Wenna won't help me, then the Lord's will be done.'" 
 
 " Oh yes, I know," said his companion, with some impa- 
 tience; '" she is always saying that. I said to her the other 
 day, when I got out of temper, ' Why, of course the Lord's 
 will will be clone ; you don't suppose he wants your permis- 
 sion ? But if you'd only look after your own house, and be- 
 stir yourself, and keep it smart, your husband wouldn't go on 
 as he does.' There's nothing I hate worse than that sort of 
 pretended piety. Why, when Abiathar Annot's boy died, I 
 thought he'd be out of his senses with grief, and I went up to 
 see if he was all right about the house, and to say a friendly 
 word to him ; and directly I went into the house he said to 
 me, quite complacently, ' Well, Miss Rosewarne, you know 
 we must bow to the will of the Lord, and accept his chasten- 
 ings as mercies.' ' Oh,' said I, ' if you take it that way, I've 
 no more to say ; ' and I left the place. I don't believe in all 
 that sort of—" 
 
THE FAIR SPRING-TIME. Ill 
 
 She suddenly stopped, recollecting^ to whom she was 
 speaking. Were these proper confessions to be made to a 
 young man who had such a godless hatred of parsons and 
 churches and all good things; and whose conversion to 
 more respectable ways she had many a time wished to attempt ? 
 She dropped that subject ; and Master Harry was so resolved 
 to be proper and virtuous that morning that he took no ad- 
 vantage of what she had said. He even, in an awkward fash- 
 ion, observed that all pious people were not hypocrites ; one 
 had to draw distinctions. Of course there were pious people 
 who were really sincere. He hoped Miss Wenna would not 
 suspect him of being so prejudiced as not to know that. Miss 
 Wenna was a little inclined to smile, but she controlled her 
 lips ; and Master Harry, having paid, these ingenuous com- 
 pliments to virtue and religion, rose with a frank sigh of re- 
 lief, proposed that they should continue their walk up the 
 hill, and was soon engaged in telling her — with a much gayer 
 tone in his voice and with a return to his old impertinent 
 carelessness — of some wild adventure in cliff-hunting which 
 he and his faithful Dick had encountered together. 
 
 They seemed to be in no great hurry, these two. It was a 
 morning that invited to idleness. They chatted about all 
 sorts of things, or were silent, with equal and happy indiffer- 
 ence : he watching the sea-birds, she stooping from time to 
 time to pick up some tiny flower of pale yellow or purple. In 
 this fashion they made their way up to the summit of the 
 cliffs, and there before them lay the great plain of the windy 
 sea, and the long wall of precipice running down into the 
 southwest, and the high and bleak uplands, marked by the 
 square towers of small and distant churches. They struck 
 across the fields to one of those churches — that which Mas- 
 ter Harry had been persuaded to visit. The place was now 
 silent enough : two jackdaws sat on the slender weathercock ; 
 the sunlight was warm on the silvery grey tower, and on the 
 long green grass in the churchyard, in which the first daisies 
 of spring had appeared. Then they went down through some 
 narrow lanes towards the higher portion of Eglosilyan ; and 
 under the hedges were masses of pale primroses, and the pur- 
 ple blossoms of the ground-ivy, and the golden stars of the 
 celandine. They drew near some of the cottages ; and in the 
 gardens the flowering currant was in bloom, and everywhere 
 there was a scent of wallflower. They crossed the main 
 thoroughfare of the village ; it was empty but for the presence 
 of a small boy, who, with a slate slung on one side and a bag 
 made of carpet slung on the other, had apparently been sent 
 
112 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 home from school for some reason or other. The youthful 
 scholar most respectfully took off his cap to Miss Wenna as 
 she gave him a kindly greeting in passing. 
 
 "They say all that is owing to you," Trelyon remarked. 
 
 " All what ? " 
 
 " The good manners of the people in this village. The women 
 bob you a curtsy as you pass, the girls say good-morning or 
 good-evening, the boys take off their caps, even if you are a 
 perfect stranger. But you don't suppose that happens in 
 every village in Cornwall? My mother was speaking about 
 it only this morning." 
 
 Wenna was sufficiently surprised to know that she had got 
 the credit of the courtesy shown to the strangers by the Eg- 
 losilyan folks ; but even more surprised to learn that Master 
 Harry had deigned to engage in conversation with his mother. 
 He also seemed to be taking his first lessons in civility. 
 
 " Oh," she said, " that boy ought to pay me every attention 
 to make up for his bad conduct. He was once a sweetheart 
 of mine, and he deceived me. He sold me for sixpence." 
 
 She sighed. 
 
 " It is true. He adopted me as his sweetheart, and every 
 time I saw him he promised to marry me when he grew up. 
 But there came a change. He avoided me, and I had to 
 catch him, and ask him why. He confessed. I wasn't his 
 sweetheart any more. His elder brother, aged ten, I think, 
 had also wanted me for a sweetheart, and he had a sixpence ; 
 and sixpence was the price of a new sort of spinning-top that 
 had just been put into the window at the Post-office ; and the 
 elder brother proposed to the younger brother to take the 
 sixpence and buy the top, and hand me over. ' So yii baint 
 my sweetheart anny mower,' said that young gentleman, for- 
 getting his good English in his grief. But I think he has a 
 tender recollection of me even now." 
 
 " I'd have thrashed the little brute for his meanness, if I 
 had been you," said her companion, in his off-hand way. 
 
 " Oh no," she answered, with a meek sarcasm ; " wasn't he 
 only doing as a child what grown-up gentlemen are said to do ? 
 When there is money on the one hand and a sweetheart on 
 the other is not the sweetheart ordinarily thrown over ? " 
 
 " What can you know about it ? " he said, bluntly. " In 
 any case, you don't run any danger. Mr. Roscorla is not like- 
 ly to be tempted by bags of gold." 
 
 Mr. Roscorla — always Mr. Roscorla. Wenna, who crim- 
 soned deeply at the slightest reference to the relations be- 
 tween herself and her absent lover, began to be somewhat 
 
THF FAIR SPRING-TIME. 113 
 
 angry with this thoughtless lad, who would continually intro- 
 duce the name. What was his object in doing so ? To show 
 her that he never failed to remember her position, and that 
 that was his excuse for talking very frankly to her, as he 
 would have done to a sister ? "Or merely to please her by 
 speaking of one who ought to be very dear to her ? She 
 was not indebted to him for this blundering effort of kind- 
 ness ; and on any less cheerful morning might have visited 
 him with one of those fits of formal politeness or of con- 
 strained silence with which young ladies are accustomed to 
 punish too forward acquaintances. 
 
 But Miss Wenna had it not in her heart to be reserved on 
 this pleasant forenoon; she good-naturedly overlooked the 
 pertinacious mistakes of her companion ; and talked to him — 
 and to the flowers and birds and trees around her — with a 
 happy carelessness, until the two of them together made their 
 way up to the Hall. Just as Master Harry opened the gate 
 at the end of the avenue, and turned to let her through, he 
 seemed for the first time to notice her dress. He made no 
 scruple of stopping her for a moment to look at it. 
 
 " Oh, I wish you could get my mother to dress like you ! " 
 
 The burst of admiration was so genuine that Miss Wenna 
 — being only a girl — was very much pleased indeed ! and 
 blushed a little, and would rather have passed on. There 
 was nothing, indeed, remarkable about her costume — about 
 the rough light gray dress with its touches here and there of 
 blue, nor yet about the white hat with its forget-me-nots and 
 big white' daisies — except that it seemed to fit well a very 
 pretty figure, and also that the blue suited the dark and clear 
 complexion and the dark eyes and hair. 
 
 " I'm sick of her stalking about the house in the guise of a 
 ghost — she all white, everything else black. I say, Wenna, 
 don't you think you could get her to dress like a human 
 being?" 
 
 " But if it is her wish, you ought to respect it." 
 
 " It's only a craze," he said, impatiently. 
 
 " It may seem so to you," his companion said ; " but she has 
 her own reasons for it', and they deserve your sympathy even 
 though they may not convince you. And you ought not to 
 speak in that harsh way of one who is so very good and gen- 
 tle, and who is so considerate towards you. 
 
 " Oh you always find excuses for people," he said, roughly. 
 " Everybody should be considered and respected, and have 
 their fine feelings praised and coddled, according to you. 
 Everybody is perfect, according to you." 
 
H4 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " Oh dear, no," she said, quite humbly. " I know one or 
 two people whose conduct and habits, and their manners, 
 too, might be very much improved indeed." 
 
 " I suppose you mean me ? " he said. 
 
 "And if I did ? " she said, boldly. " Don't you think, when 
 you want your mother to be just as you would have her to be, 
 that she might turn around and say that there was a great 
 deal more in you that she might wish to have altered ? You 
 know her manner of life is not necessarily wrong merely be- 
 cause you can't understand it. As for yours — " 
 
 " Go ahead ! " he cried, with a loud and suddenly good-na- 
 tured laugh. " Heap up all my sins on my head ! I'm getting 
 used to be lectured now. Please, Miss Puritan, would you like 
 me to get a surplice and come and sing hymns in the choir ? " 
 
 Miss Puritan did not answer. There was no look of annoy- 
 ance on her face — only a certain calm reserve that told her 
 companion that he had somehow wounded the friendly confi- 
 dence that had sprung up between them during this pleasant 
 morning ramble. And at this moment they reached the front 
 of the Hall, where Mrs. Trelyon came forward to greet her 
 visitor ; so that Master Harry had no further opportunity just 
 then of asking her whether he had offended her, and of mak- 
 ing an apology. He listened for a few minutes to his mother 
 talking to Wenna about that Sewing Club. He became im- 
 patient with himself, and vexed, for Wenna seemed in no- 
 wise to recognize his presence ; and of course his mother did 
 not ask his advice about the purchase of flannel. He tossed 
 about the books on the table ; he teased an Angola cat that 
 was lying before the fire until it tried to bite him, and then 
 he put its nose into the water of a flower-vase. With the 
 feather of a quill dipped' in ink he drew a fox on one of the 
 white tiles of the fireplace ; and then he endeavored to re- 
 move that work of art with the edge of a scarlet-and-gokl foot- 
 stool. These various occupations affording him no relief, he 
 got up, stretched his legs, and said to his mother — 
 
 " Mother, you keep her here for lunch. I shall be back 
 at two." 
 
 " Oh, but I can't stay so long," Wenna said, suddenly ; " I 
 know I shall be wanted at home." 
 
 " Oh no, you won't," the young gentleman said, coolly ; 
 " I know you won't. Mabyn told me so. Besides, I am 
 going down now to tell them you will be back at four." 
 
 And so he went away, but his walk down to the inn was 
 not as pleasant as that roundabout ramble up to the Hall had 
 been. 
 
OA'L Y A BASKET OF PRIMROSES. 1:5 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 ONLY A BASKET OF PRIMROSES. 
 
 " What a busy life you must lead ! " said Mrs. Trelyon, 
 looking with a gentle wonder at the young lady before her. 
 "You seem to know how to do anything." 
 
 Miss Wenna colored a little, and said something about 
 having to help her mother for many years past. 
 
 " And such a knowledge of the world as you have ! " Mrs. 
 Trelyon continued, unconsciously staring at the girl as if she 
 were some strange phenomenon. " Where did you get it ? " 
 
 " That I am sure I have not got," Wenna said, brightening 
 considerably, " for the strangers who come to the inn of course 
 don't speak to me, except one or two of the very old ladies 
 sometimes, and all they speak about is the scenery. But 
 Mabyn and I read the remarks in the Visitors' Book, and these 
 are very amusing, especially the poetry that the young gen- 
 tlemen write ; and, indeed, Mrs. Trelyon, if one were to judge 
 by that book, one would think that the world was very silly. 
 The elderly gentlemen generally praise the cooking ; the 
 elderly ladies generally say something nice about the clean- 
 liness of the bedrooms and the good attendance ; and the 
 young ladies write about anything, recommending other visi- 
 tors to go to particular places, or saying what they think of 
 the Cornish peasantry. I am sure they are all very good- 
 natured to us, and say very nice things of the inn ; but then 
 it looks so silly. And the young gentlemen are far the 
 worst — especially the University young gentlemen, for they 
 write such stupid poetiy and make such bad jokes. I sup- 
 pose it is that the fresh air gives them very good spirits, and 
 they don't care what they say, and they never expect that 
 their friends will see what they have written. I have noticed, 
 though, that the walking gentlemen never write such things 
 when they are leaving, for they are always too anxious about 
 the number of miles they have to get over on that day, and 
 they are always anxious, too, about the heels of their stock- 
 ings. If you would like to see the book — " 
 
 Wenna stopped. Mrs. Trelyon had been very good in ex- 
 tending a sort of acquaintance to her, and now proposed to 
 help her in a way with her work. But she was going too far 
 in expecting that this reserved and silent lady should become 
 a visitor at the inn, or interest herself in its commonplace 
 affairs. At this moment, indeed, Mrs. Trelyon was so very 
 
1 1 6 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 much reserved that she did not notice either Wenna's tenta- 
 tive invitation or her embarrassment when she cut it short. 
 
 " I wish," she said, absently, showing what she had been 
 thinking about — " I wish you could get Harry to go to one 
 of the Universities." 
 
 It was now Wenna's turn to stare. Did the mother of that 
 young gentleman seriously think that this stranger-girl had 
 such an influence over him ? 
 
 " Oh, Mrs. Trelyon," Wenna said, " how could I— ? " 
 
 " He would do anything for you," the gentle lady said, 
 with much simplicity and honesty. " He pays no attention to 
 anything I say to him ; but he would do anything for you. 
 His whole manner changes when you are in the house. I 
 think you are the only person in the world he is afraid of. 
 And it was so good of you to get him to go to church." 
 
 iC I am sure it was not I," said Wenna, getting rather afraid. 
 
 " But I know," said Mrs. Trelyon, quite affectionately, " for 
 I have seen everybody else try and fail. You see, my dear, 
 you are in a peculiar position. You are young, and a pleas- 
 ant companion for a young man ; and as you are no relation 
 of his, he is courteous to you. And then, you see, your being 
 engaged to be married enables him to speak freely to you 
 and treat you as a friend ; and I think, besides, you have ac- 
 quired some means of keeping him in check, and having au- 
 thority over him, and I am sure he would do more for you 
 than for any one I know. As for me, I have never had any 
 control over him ; but he is at least civil to me when you are in 
 the room." 
 
 Wenna rose. 
 
 " Mrs. Trelyon," she said, " don't you think it is a pity to 
 stay indoors on such a beautiful morning ? The air is quite 
 mild and warm outside." 
 
 She was glad to get out. There was something in this 
 declaration of her responsibility for the young man's conduct 
 which considerably startled and frightened her. It was all 
 very well for her to administer an occasional sharp reproof to 
 him when he was laughing and joking with herself and Mabyn ; 
 but to become the recognized monitress of so wild a pupil as 
 Master Harry — to have his own mother appeal to her — that 
 was quite a different affair. And on this occasion, when Mrs. 
 Trelyon had got a shawl and come outside with her guest, all 
 her talk was about her son, and his ways and his prospects. 
 It was very clear that, with all her lamentations over his con- 
 duct, Mrs. Trelyon was very fond of the yonng man, and was 
 quite assured, too, that he had the brains to do anything he 
 
ONLY A BASKET OF PRIMROSES. 117 
 
 might be induced to undertake. Wenna listened in a vague 
 way to all these complaints and speculations and covert 
 praises ; she did not find her position so embarrassing in the 
 open air as in that close drawing-room. They walked through 
 the leafy alleys of the garden, unconsciously regarding the 
 beautiful color of the new spring flowers, and listening to the 
 larks singing high up in the blue. From time to time, as they 
 turned, they caught a glimpse of hills all ablaze with gorse ; 
 and near the horizon a long line of pale azure with a single 
 white ship visible in the haze. On the other side of the valley 
 a man was harrowing; they could hear him calling to the 
 horses, and the jingling of the chains. Then there was the 
 murmur of the stream far below, where the sunlight just 
 caught the light green of the larches. These, and the con- 
 stant singing of the birds around them, were the only sounds 
 that accompanied their talk, as they wandered this way and 
 that, by brilliant garden-plots or through shaded avenues, 
 where the air was sweet with the fresh scents of the opening 
 summer. 
 
 And at last they came back to the proposal that Wenna 
 should try to persuade Master Harry to go to Oxford or Cam- 
 bridge. 
 
 " But, Mrs. Trelyon," the girl said earnestly, " I am quite 
 sure you mistake altogether my relations with your son. I 
 could not presume to give him advice. It would not be my place 
 to do so even if we were on the footing of friends, and that, 
 at present, is out of the question. Don't you see, Mrs. Trelyon, 
 that because Mr. Trelyon in coming about the inn was good- 
 natured enough to make the acquaintance of my father and 
 to talk to us girls, it would not do for any of us to forget how 
 we are situated ? I don't anyway — perhaps because I am 
 proud — but, at all events, I should not presume on Mr. Trel- 
 yon's good-nature. Don't you see, Mrs. Trelyon? " 
 
 "I see that you are a very practical and sensible and plain- 
 spoken young lady," her companion said, regarding her with 
 a kindly look, " but I think you don't do my son justice. It 
 is not thoughtlessness that made him make your acquaintance. 
 I don't think he ever did a more prudent thing in his life before. 
 And then, dear Miss Rosewarne, you must remember — if I 
 may speak of such' a thing — that you will soon be the wife of 
 one of the very few friends we have about here ; and you must 
 excuse us if we claim you as a friend already, and try to take 
 advantage of your friendship. Now, do you see that?" 
 
 Wenna was not persuaded ; but she was, at all events, very 
 pleased to see that occasionally Mrs. Trelyon could forget her 
 
n8 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 brooding, sentimental fancies, and become comparatively 
 bright and talkative. 
 
 " Now will you say a word to him when he comes home for 
 lunch ? " 
 
 " Oh no, I can't do that, Mrs. Trelyon," Wenna said ; " it 
 would be quite rude of me to do that. Besides, if you would 
 not be displeased with me, Mrs. Trelyon, for saying so, I don't 
 think going to a University would do him any good. I don't 
 think — I hope you won't be vexed with me — that he has had 
 sufficient schooling. And isn't there an examination before 
 you could get in ? Well, 1 don't know about that ; but I am 
 quite sure that if he did get in, he would be too proud to put 
 himself in competition with the other young men who were 
 properly prepared for study, and he would take to boating or 
 cricket, or some such thing. Now don't you think, Mrs. Trel- 
 yon, he would be as well occupied in amusing himself here, 
 where you might gradually get him to take an interest in some- 
 thing besides shooting and fishing? He knows far more 
 things than most people fancy, I know that. My father says 
 he is very clever, and can pick up anything you tell him ; and 
 that he knows more about the management of an estate, and 
 about the slate quarries, and about mining too, than people 
 imagine. And as for me," added the girl bravely, " I will say 
 this, that I think him very clever indeed, and that he will 
 make a straightforward and honorable man, and I should like 
 to see him in Parliament, where he would be able to hold his 
 own, I know." 
 
 " Oh, my dear ! " exclaimed Mrs. Trelyon, with a joyful 
 face, " I am so grateful to you. I am so proud to know you 
 think so highly of him. And won't you say a word to him ? 
 He will do whatever you please." 
 
 But Miss Wenna had somehow been startled into that con- 
 fession, and the sudden burst of honesty left her consid- 
 erably ashamed and embarrassed. She would not promise 
 to intermeddle in the matter, whatever she had been induced 
 to say about the future of the young man. She stooped to 
 pick up a flower to cover her confusion, and then she asked 
 Mrs. Trelyon to be good enough to excuse her staying to 
 lunch. 
 
 " Oh no, I dare not do that," Mrs. Trelyon said ; " Harry 
 would pull the house down when he found I had let you go. 
 You know we have no visitors at present, and it will be such 
 a pleasure to have him lunch with me ; he seldom does, and 
 never at all if there are visitors. But really, Miss Rosewarne 
 it is so inconsiderate of me to talk always of him, as L you 
 
ONL Y A BASKE T OF PRIMROSES. I 19 
 
 were as much interested as myself. Why, the whole morn- 
 ing we have not said a word about you and all you are look- 
 ing forward to. I hope you will be happy. I am sure you 
 will be, for you have such a sensible way of regarding things, 
 and all is sure to go well. I must say that I thought Harry 
 was a little more mad than usual when he first told me about 
 that money ; but now I know you, I am very, very glad in- 
 deed, and very pleased that I could be of some little service 
 to Mr. Roscorla for your sake." 
 
 The girl beside her did not understand ; she looked up 
 with wondering eyes. 
 
 " What money, Mrs. Trelyon ? " 
 
 " I mean the money that Harry got for Mr. Roscorla — the 
 money, you know, for these Jamaica estates ; is it possible 
 Mr. Roscorla did not tell you before he left ? " 
 
 " I don't know anything about it, Mrs. Trelyon, and I hope 
 you will tell me at once," Wenna said, with some decision in 
 her tone, but with a strange sinking at her heart. 
 
 " You don't know, then ? " Mrs. Trelyon said, with a sud- 
 den fear that she had been indiscreet. " Oh, it is nothing, a 
 mere business arrangement. Of course, gentlemen don't 
 care to have these things talked over. I hope you won't 
 mention it, dear Miss Rosewarne ; I really thought you 
 might have overheard them speaking of the matter." 
 
 Wenna said nothing. The soft dark eyes looked a .little 
 troubled, but that was all. And presently up came young 
 Trelyon, full of good spirits and noise and bustle ; and he 
 drove his mother and Wenna before him into the house ; 
 and hurried up the servants, and would open the wine him- 
 self. His mother checked him for whistling at luncheon ; 
 his reply was to toss the leg of a fowl on to the hearthrug, 
 where a small and shaggy terrier immediately began to worry 
 it. He put the Angola cat on the table to see if it would eat 
 some Cornish cream off his plate. His pigeons got to know 
 of his being in the house, and came flying about the windows 
 and walking jerkingly over the lawn ; he threw up the win- 
 dows and flung them a couple of handfuls of crumbs. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Wenna," said he, " would you like to see my 
 tame fox ? I am sure you would. Mather, you cut round 
 to the stables and tell old Luke to bring that fox here — off 
 you go — leave the claret this side." 
 
 " But I do not wish to see the fox ; I particularly dislike 
 foxes," said Wenna, with some asperity ; and Mather was 
 recalled. 
 
 Master Harry grinned to himself ; it was the first time he 
 
120 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 had been able to get her to speak to him. From the begin- 
 ning of luncheon she had sat almost silent, observing his va- 
 garies and listening to his random talk in silence ; when she 
 spoke it was always in answer to his mother. Very soon 
 after luncheon she begged Mrs. Trelyon to excuse her going 
 away ; and then she went and put on her hat. 
 
 " I'll see you down to the inn," said Master Harry, when 
 she came out to the hall-door. 
 
 " Thank you, it is quite unnecessary," she said, somewhat 
 coldly. 
 
 " Oh," said he, " you may be as nasty as you please, but I 
 shall conquer you by my extreme politeness." 
 
 At another time she would have laughed at the notion of 
 this young gentleman complimenting himself on his polite- 
 ness ; now, as she walked quietly down the gravelled path to 
 the gate, she was very grave, and, indeed, took no notice of 
 his presence. 
 
 " Wenna," said he, after he had shut the gate and rejoined 
 her, " is it fair to make such a fuss about a chance word ? I 
 think you are very hard. I did not mean to offend you." 
 
 "You have not offended me, Mr. Trelyon." 
 
 " Then why do you look so — so uncomfortable ? " 
 
 She made no answer. 
 
 " Now, look here, do be reasonable. Are you vexed be- 
 cause I called you Wenna ? Or is it because I spoke about 
 singing in the choir ? " 
 
 " No," she said, simply, " I was not thinking of anything 
 of that kind ; and I am not vexed." 
 
 " Then what is the matter? " 
 
 For another second or two she was silent, apparently from 
 irresolution ; then she suddenly stopped in the middle of the 
 road, and confronted him. " Mr. Trelyon," she said; " is it 
 true that you have given Mr. Roscorla money, and on my ac- 
 count ? " 
 
 " No, it is not," he said, considerably startled by her tone ; 
 " I lent him some money — the money he wanted to take to 
 Jamaica." 
 
 " And what business had you to do anything of the sort ? " 
 she said, with the shame in her heart lending a strangely un- 
 usual sharpness to her voice. 
 
 " Well," said the young man, quite humbly, " I thought it 
 would be a service both to you and to him ; and that there 
 was no harm in it. If he succeeds, he will pay me back. It 
 was precious silly of him to tell you anything about it ; but 
 
ONL Y A BASKET OF rRIMROSES. 121 
 
 still, Miss Wenna — you must see — now don't be unreasona- 
 ble — what harm could there be in it ? " 
 
 She stood before him, her eyes cast down, her pale face a 
 trifle flushed, and her hands clasped tight. 
 
 " How much was it ? " she said, in a low voice. 
 
 " Now, now, now," he said, in a soothing way, " don't you 
 make a fuss about it ; it is a business transaction ; men often 
 lend money to each other — what a fool he must have been to 
 have — I beg your pardon — " and then he stopped, frowning 
 at his own stupidity. 
 
 " How much was it ? " 
 
 " Well, if you must know, five thousand pounds." 
 
 " Five thousand pounds ! " she repeated, absently. " I am 
 sure my father has not so much money. But I will bid you 
 good-bye now, Mr. Trelyon." 
 
 And she held out her hand. 
 
 "Mayn't I walk down with you to the village?" said he, 
 looking rather crestfallen. 
 
 " No, thank you," she said, quietly, and then she went 
 away. 
 
 Well, he stood looking after her for a few seconds. Now 
 that her back was turned to him and she was going away, 
 there was no longer any brightness in the fresh spring woods, 
 nor any color in the clear skies overhead. She had been 
 hard on him, he felt; and yet there was no anger or impa- 
 tience in his heart, only a vague regret that somehow he had 
 wounded her, and that they were no longer good friends. 
 He stood so for a minute or two, and then he suddenly set 
 out to overtake her. She turned slightly just as he had got 
 up. 
 
 " Miss Wenna," he said, rather shamefacedly, " I forgot to 
 ask you whether you would mind calling in at Mrs. Luke's 
 as you go by. There is a basket of primroses there for you. 
 I set the children to gather them about an hour ago ; I 
 thought you would like them." 
 
 She said she would ; and then he raised his cap to her — 
 looked at her just for one moment — and turned and walked 
 away. Wenna called for the basket, and a very fine basket ot 
 flowers it was, for Mrs. Luke said that Master Harry had 
 given the children sixpence apiece to gather the finest prim- 
 roses they couM get, and every one knows what Cornish prim- 
 roses are. Wenna took away the flowers, not paying any par- 
 ticular attention to them, and it was only when she got into 
 her own room — and when she felt very much inclined to sit 
 down and cry — that she noticed lying among the large and 
 
122 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 pale yellow primroses a bit of another flower which one of 
 the children had doubtless placed there. It was merely a 
 stalk of the small pink-flowered saxifrage, common in cot- 
 tagers' gardens, and called in some places London-pride ; in 
 other parts of the country they tenderly call it None-so-pretty, 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 CONFIDENCES. 
 
 Meanwhile during the time that Wenna Rosewarne had 
 been up at Trelyon Hall her place in the inn had been occu- 
 pied by a very handsome, self-willed, and gay-hearted young 
 lady, who had endeavored, after a somewhat wild fashion, to 
 fulfil her sister's duties. She had gone singing through the 
 house to see that the maids had put the rooms right ; she 
 had had a fight with Jennifer about certain jellies ; she had 
 petted her mother and teased her father into a good humor, 
 after which she went outside in her smart print dress and 
 bright ribbons, and sat down on the bench of black oak at 
 the door. She formed part of a pretty picture there ; the 
 bright April day was still shining all around, on the plashing 
 water of the mill, on the pigeons standing on the roof, and 
 on the hills beyond the harbor, which were yellow with 
 masses of furze. 
 
 " And now," said this young lady to herself, "the question 
 is, can I become a villain ? If I could only get one of the 
 persons out of a story to tell me how they managed to do it 
 successfully, how fine that would be ! Here is the letter in 
 my pocket — of course it has his address in it. I burn the 
 letter. Wenna doesn't write to him. He gets angry, and 
 writes again and again. I burn each one as it comes ; then 
 he becomes indignant, and will write no more. He thinks she 
 has forsaken him, and he uses naughty words, and pretends 
 to be well rid of her. She is troubled and astonished for a 
 time ; then her pride is touched, and she won't mention his 
 name. In the end, of course, she marries a handsome young 
 gentleman, who is really in love with her, and they are so 
 very happy — oh, it is delightful to think of it ! and' then, a 
 long time after, the other one comes home, and they all find 
 out the villain — that's me — but they are all quite pleased 
 with the way it has ended, and they forgive me. How clever 
 they are in stories to be able to do that ? " 
 
CONFIDENCES. 123 
 
 She took a letter out of her pocket, and furtively looked at 
 it. It bore a foreign postmark. She glanced around to see 
 that no one had observed her, and concealed it again. 
 
 "To burn this one is easy. But old Malachi mightn't 
 always let me rummage his bag ; and a single one getting 
 into Wenna's hands would spoil the whole thing. _ Besides, 
 if Wenna did not write out to Jamaica he would write home 
 to some of his friends — some of those nice, cautious, inquir- 
 ing clergymen, no doubt, about the Hall — to let him know ; 
 and then' there would be a pretty squabble. I never noticed 
 how the villains in the stories managed that ; I suppose there 
 were no clever clergymen about, and no ill-tempered old post- 
 man like Malachi Lean. And oh ! I should like to see what he 
 says — he will make such beautiful speeches about absence 
 and trust, and all that ; and he will throw himself on her 
 mercy, and he will remind her of her engaged ring." 
 
 Mabyn laughed to herself — a quiet, triumphant laugh. 
 Whenever she was very downhearted about her sister's affairs, 
 she used to look at the gipsy ring of emeralds, and repeat to 
 herself — 
 
 " Oh, green's forsaken, 
 And yellow's forsworn, 
 And blue's the sweetest 
 Color that's worn ! " 
 
 — and on this occasion she reflected that perhaps, after all, 
 it was scarcely worth while for her to become a villain in 
 order to secure a result that had already been ordained by 
 Fate. 
 
 " Mab," said her father, coming out to interrupt her re- 
 flections, and speaking in a peevishly indolent voice, " where's 
 Wenna ? I want her to write some letters and to go over to 
 the Annots'. Of course your mother's ill again, and can't do 
 anything. 
 
 " Can't I write the letters ? " said Mabyn. 
 
 " You ? you're only fit to go capering about a dancing- 
 academy. I want Wenna." 
 
 " Well, I think you might let her have one forenoon to 
 herself," Mabyn said, with some sharpness ; " she doesn't 
 take many holidays. She's always doing other people's work, 
 and when they're quite able to do it for themselves." 
 
 Mabyn's father was quite insensible to the sarcasm ; he said, 
 in a complaining way — 
 
 " Yes, that's sure enough ; she's always meddling in other 
 people's affairs, and they don't thank her for it. And a nice 
 
124 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 thing she's done with those Annots. Why, that young Han- 
 nabel fellow was quite content to mind his own bit of farm 
 like any one else, until she put it into his head to get a 
 spring-cart, and drive all the way down to Devonport with 
 his poultry ; and now she's led him on so that he buys up 
 the fish, and the poultry and eggs, and butter and things from 
 all the folks about him, to sell at Devonport ; and of course 
 they're raising their prices, and they'll scarcely deal with you 
 except as a favor, they've got so precious independent. And 
 now he's come to the Tregear farm, and if Wenna doesn't 
 interfere they'll be contracting with him for the whole summer. 
 There's one blessed mercy, when she gets married she'll 
 have to stop that nonsense, and have to mind her own busi- 
 ness." 
 
 " Yes," said Mabyn, with some promptitude, " and she has 
 been left to mind her own business pretty well of late." 
 
 " What's the matter with you, Mabyn ? " her father care- 
 lessly asked, noticing at length the peculiarity of her tone. 
 
 " Why," she said, indignantly, " you and mother had no 
 right to let her go and engage herself to that man. You 
 ought to have interfered. She's not fit to act for herself — 
 she let herself be coaxed over, and you'll be sorry for it some 
 day." 
 
 " Hold your tongue, child," her father said, " and don't 
 talk about things you can't understand. A lot of experience 
 you have had ! If Wenna didn't want to marry him, she could 
 have said so; if she doesn't want to marry him now, she has 
 only to say so. What harm can there be in that ? " 
 
 " Oh yes ; it's all very simple," the girl said to herself, as 
 she rose and went away ; " very simple to say she can do 
 what she pleases ; but she can't, and she should never have 
 been allowed to put herself in such a position, for she will 
 find it out afterwards if she doesn't now. It seems to me 
 there is nobody at all who cares about Wenna except me ; 
 and she thinks I am a child, and pays no heed to me." 
 
 Wenna came in ; Mabyn heard her go up-stairs to her own 
 room, and followed her. 
 
 " Oh, Wenna, who gave you this beautiful basket of prim- 
 roses ? " she cried, guessing instantly who had given them. 
 " It is such a pretty present to give to any one ! " 
 
 " Mrs. Luke's children gathered them," Wenna said coldly. 
 
 " Oh, indeed ; where did the basket come from ? " 
 
 " Mr. Trelyon asked them to gather me the primroses," 
 Wenna said, impatiently ; " I suppose he got the basket." 
 
CONFIDENCES. 125 
 
 " Then it is his present ? " Mabyn cried. " Oh, how kind 
 of him ! And see, Wenna — don't you see what he has put in 
 among the primroses ? Look, Wenna — it is a bit of None-so- 
 pretty. Oh, Wenna, that is a message to you. 
 
 " Mabyn," her sister said, with a severity that was seldom 
 in her voice, u you will make me vexed with you if you talk 
 such nonsense. He would not dare to do such a thing — why, 
 the absurdity of it I And I am not at all well disposed 
 towards Mr. Trelyon at this moment." 
 
 " I don't see why he shouldn't," said her sister humbly, 
 and yet with a little inadvertant toss of the head ; " every 
 one knows you are pretty except yourself, and there can be 
 no harm in a young man telling you so. He is not a greater 
 fool than anybody else. He has got eyes. He knows that 
 every one is in love with you — every one that is now in 
 Eglosilyan, anyway. He is a very gentlemanly young man. 
 He is a great friend to you. I don't see why you should 
 treat him so." 
 
 Mabyn began to move about the room, as she generally 
 did when she was a trifle excited and indignant, and inclined 
 to tears. 
 
 " There is no one thinks so highly of you as he does. He 
 is more respectful to you than to all the people in the world. 
 I think it is very hard and unkind of you." 
 
 " But, Mabyn, what have I done ? " her sister said. 
 
 " You won't believe he sent you that piece of None-so-pretty. 
 You won't take the least notice of his friendliness to you. 
 You said you were vexed with him." 
 
 " Well, I have reason to be vexed with him," Wenna said, 
 and would willingly have left the matter there. 
 
 But her sister was not to be put off. She coaxed for a few 
 minutes, then became petulant, and affected to be deeply 
 hurt; then assumed an air of authority, and said that she in- 
 sisted on being told. Then the whole truth came out. Mr. 
 Trelyon had been lending Mr. Roscorla a sum of money 
 which he had no business to lend. Mr. Trelyon had some- 
 how mixed her up with the matter, under the impression that 
 he was conferring a service on her. Mr. Trelyon had con- 
 cealed the whole transaction from her, and, of course, Mr. 
 Roscorla was silent also. And on the face of it Mr. Trelyon 
 was responsible for Mr. Roscorla going away from his na- 
 tive land to face all manner of perils, discomforts, and 
 anxieties ; for without that fatal sum of money he might still 
 have been living in peace and contentment up at Basset 
 Cottage. 
 
j 2 6 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 "Well, Wenna," said the younger sister candidly, and with 
 a resigned air, " I never knew you so unreasonable before. 
 All you seem able to do is to invent reasons for disliking 
 Mr. Trelyon, and I have no doubt you used him shamefully 
 when you saw him this forenoon. You are all love and kind- 
 ness to people who have no claim on you — to brats in cottages 
 and old women — but you are very hard on people who — 
 who respect you. And then/' added Miss Mabyn, drawing 
 herself up, " if I were to tell you how the story of that money 
 strikes me, would it surprise you ? Who asked Mr. Roscorla 
 to have the money and go away ? Not Mr. Trelyon, I am 
 sure. Who concealed it ? Whose place was it to come and 
 tell you — you who are engaged to him ? If it comes to that, 
 I'll tell you what I believe, and that is that Mr. Roscorla went 
 and made use of the regard that Harry Trelyon has for you 
 to get the money. There !•" 
 
 Mabyn uttered the last words with an air which said, "I 
 will speak out this time, if I die for it." But the effect on her 
 sister was strange. Of course, she expected Wenna to rise 
 up indignantly and protest against her speaking of Mr. Ros- 
 corla in such a way. She was ready to brave her wrath. 
 She fully thought they were entering on the deadliest quarrel 
 that had ever occurred between them. 
 
 But whether it was that Wenna was too much grieved to 
 care what her sister said, or whether it was that these frank 
 accusations touched some secret consciousness in her own 
 heart, the elder sister remained strangely silent, her eyes cast 
 down. Mabyn looked at her, wondering why she did not get 
 up in a rage : Wenna was stealthily crying. And then, of 
 course, the younger sister's arms were around her in a minute 
 and there was a great deal of soothing and tender phrases ; 
 and finally Mabyn, not knowing otherwise how to atone for 
 her indiscretion, pulled out Mr. Roscorla's letter, put it in 
 Wenna's hand, and went away. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE FIRST MESSAGE HOME. 
 
 Wenna was glad to have the letter at that moment. She 
 had been distracted by all this affair of the money ; she had 
 been troubled and angry — with whom she could scarcely tell ; 
 but here was something that recalled her to a sense of her 
 
THE FIRST MESSAGE HOME. 127 
 
 duty. She opened it, resolved to accept its counsels and 
 commands with all due meekness. For such kindness as he 
 might choose to show she would be grateful, and she would 
 go back to her ordinary work more composed and cheerful, 
 knowing that, whatever business affairs Mr. Roscorla might 
 transact, her concern was only to remain loyal to the promises 
 she had made, and to the trust which he reposed in her. 
 
 And the letter was in reality a kind and friendly letter, 
 written with a sort of good-humor that did not wholly conceal 
 a certain pathetic consciousness of distance and loneliness. 
 It gave her a brief description of the voyage ; of the look of 
 the place at which he landed : of his meeting with his friends ; 
 and then of the manner in which he would have to spend his 
 time while he remained in the island. 
 
 " My head is rather in a whirl as yet," he wrote, " and I 
 can't sit down and look at the simple facts of the case — that 
 every one knows how brief and ordinary and commonplace a 
 thing a voyage from England to the West Indies is ; and how, 
 looking at a map, I should consider myself as only having 
 run out here for a little trip. At present my memory is full 
 of the long nights and of the early mornings, and of the im- 
 measurable seas that we were always leaving behind, so that 
 now I feel as if England were away in some other planet al- 
 together, that I should never return to. It seems years since 
 I left you at Launceston station : when I look back to it I look 
 through long days and nights of water, and nothing but water, 
 and it seems as if it must be years and years before I could 
 see an English harbor again, all masts and smoke and hurry, 
 with posters upon the walls and cabs in the streets, and some- 
 where or other a railway-station where you know you can take 
 your ticket for Cornwall, and get into your old ways again.- 
 But I am not going to give way to homesickness ; indeed, my 
 dear VVenna, you need not fear that, for, from all I can make 
 out, I shall have plenty to look after, and quite enough to 
 keep me from mooning and dreaming. Of course I cannot 
 tell you yet how things are likely to turn out, but the people 
 I have seen this morning are hopeful ; and I am inclined to 
 be hopeful myself, perhaps because the voyage has agreed 
 with me very well, and has wonderfully improved my spirits. 
 So I mean to set to work in good earnest, with the assurance 
 that you are not indifferent to the results of it ; and then 
 some day, when we are both enjoying these, you won't be 
 sorry that I went away from you for a time. Already I have 
 been speculating on all that we might do if this venture turns 
 out well, fcr of course there is no necessity why you should 
 
128 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 be mewed up in Eglosilyan all your Hfe, instead of feeling the 
 enjoyment of change of scene and of interests. These are 
 castles in the air, you will say, but they naturally arise in the 
 mind when you are in buoyant health and spirits ; and I hope, 
 if I return to England in the same mood, you will become in- 
 fected with my confidence, and add some gayety to the quiet 
 serenity of your life." 
 
 Wenna rather hurried over this passage ; the notion that 
 she might be enabled to play the part of a fine lady by means 
 of the money which Harry Trelyon had lent to her betrothed 
 was not grateful to her. 
 
 " I wish, " the letter continued, " that you had been looking 
 less grave when you had your portrait taken. Many a time, 
 on the voyage out, I used to fix my eyes on your portrait, 
 and try to imagine I was looking at it in my own room at 
 home, and that you were half a mile or so away from me, 
 down at the inn in the valley. But these efforts were not 
 successful, I must own ; for there was not much of the quiet 
 of Eglosilyan around you when the men were tramping on the 
 deck overhead, and the water hissing outside, and the engines 
 throbbing. And when I used to take out your photograph on 
 deck, in some quiet corner, I used to say to myself, ' Now I 
 shall see Wenna just as she is to-day, and I shall know she 
 has gone in to have a chat with the miller's children ; or she 
 is reading out at the edge of Black Cliff ; or she is contented- 
 ly sewing in her little parlor/ Well, to tell you the truth, 
 W T enna, I got vexed with your photograph ; I never did think 
 it was very good — now I consider it bad. Why, I think of 
 you as I have seen you running about the cliffs with Mabyn, 
 or romping with small children at home, and I see your face 
 all light and laughter, and your tongue just a little too ready 
 to say saucy things when an old fogy like myself would have 
 liked you to take care ; but here it is always the same face — 
 sad, serious, and preoccupied. What were you thinking of 
 when it was taken? I suppose some of your proteges in the 
 village had got into mischief." 
 
 " Wenna, are you here ? " said her father, opening the door 
 of her room. " Why didn't Mabyn tell me ? And a nice 
 thing you've let us in for, by getting young Annot to start 
 that business of going to Devonport. He's gone to Tregear 
 now." 
 
 " I know," said Wenna, calmly. 
 
 " You know ? And don't you know what an inconvenience 
 it will be to us ; for of course your mother can't look after 
 
THE FIRST MESSAGE HOME. 129 
 
 these things, and she'll expect me to go and buy poultry and 
 eggs for her." 
 
 "Oh no," Wenna said, "all that is arranged. I settled it 
 both with the Annots and the Tregear folks six weeks ago. 
 We are to have whatever we want just as hitherto, and Han- 
 nabel Annot will take the rest." 
 
 " I want you to write some letters,' said Mr. Rosewarne, 
 disappointed of his grumble. 
 
 " Very well," said Wenna ; and she rose and followed her 
 father. 
 
 They were met in the passage by Mabyn. 
 
 " Where are you going, Wenna ? " 
 
 " She is going to write some letters for me," said her father, 
 impatient of interference. " Get out of the way, Mab." 
 
 " Have you read that letter, Wenna ? No, you haven't. 
 Why, father, don't you know she's got a letter from Mr. Ros- 
 corla, and you haven't given her time to read it ? She must 
 go back instantly. Your letters can wait — or I'll write them. 
 Come along, Wenna." 
 
 Wenna laughed, and stood uncertain. Her father frowned 
 at first, but thought better of what he was about to say, and 
 only remarked, as he shrugged his shoulders and passed 
 on — 
 
 " Some day or other, my young lady, I shall have to cuff 
 your ears. Your temper is getting to be just a little too much 
 for me, and as for the man who may marry you, God help 
 him ! " 
 
 Mabyn carried her sister back in triumph to her own room, 
 went inside with her, locked the door, and sat down by the 
 window. 
 
 " I shall wait until you have finished," she said ; and 
 Wenna, who was a little surprised that Mabyn should have 
 been so anxious about the reading of a letter from Mr. 
 Roscorla, took out the document again, and opened it, and 
 continued her perusal. 
 
 " And now, Wenna," the letter ran, " I must finish ; for 
 there are two gentlemen coming to call on me directly. 
 Somehow I feel as I felt on sending you the first letter I ever 
 sent you — that I have said nothing of what I should like to 
 say. You might think me anxious, morbid, unreasonable, if 
 I told you all the things that have occupied my mind of late 
 with regard to you ; and yet sometimes a little restlessness 
 creeps in that I can't quite get rid of. It is through no 
 want of trust in you, my dear Wenna — I know your sincerity 
 and high principle too well for that. To put the matter 
 
130 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 bluntly, I know you will keep faith with me ; and that when 
 I get back to England, in good luck or in ill luck, you Will 
 be there to meet me, and ready to share in whatever fate 
 fortune may have brought us both. But sometimes, to tell 
 you the truth, I begin to think of your isolated position ; 
 and of the possibility of your having doubts which you can't 
 express to any one, and which I, being so far away from you, 
 cannot attempt to remove. I know how the heart may be 
 troubled in absence — mistaking its own sensations, and 
 fancying that what is in reality a longing to see some one is 
 the beginning of some vague dissatisfaction with the relations 
 existing between you. Think of that, dear Wenna. If you 
 are troubled or doubtful, put it down to the fact that I am 
 not with you to give you courage and hope. A girl is 
 indeed to be pitied at such a time : she hesitates to confess 
 to herself that she has doubts ; and she is ashamed to ask 
 counsel from her relatives. Happily, however, you have 
 multifarious duties which will in great measure keep you 
 from brooding ; and I hope you will remember your promise 
 to give me a full, true, and particular account of all that is 
 happening in Eglosilyan. You can't tell how interesting the 
 merest trifles will be to me. They will help me to make 
 pictures of you and all your surroundings ; and already, at 
 this great distance, I seem to feel the need of some such spur 
 to the imagination. As I say, I cannot appeal to your portrait 
 — there is no life in it ; but there is life in my mental portrait 
 of you — life and happiness, and even the sound of your laugh- 
 ing. Tell me all about Mabyn, who, I think, is rather jealous 
 of me — of your mother and father, and Jennifer, and every- 
 body. Have you any people staying at the inn yet , or only 
 chance-comers ? Have the Trelyons returned ? — and has that 
 wild school-boy succeeded yet in riding his horse over a cliff ? " 
 
 And so, with some few affectionate phrases, the letter 
 ended. 
 
 " Well ? " said Mabyn, coming back from the window. 
 
 " Yes, he is quite well," Wenna said, with her eyes grown 
 distant, as though she were looking at some of the scenes he 
 had been describing. 
 
 " I did not ask if he was well," Mabyn said. " I asked 
 what you thought of the letter. Does he say anything about 
 the borrowing of that money ? " 
 
 " No, he does not." 
 
 " Very well, then," Mabyn sdd, sharply. " And you 
 blame Mr. Trelyon for not telling you. Does a gentleman 
 tell anybody when he lends money ? No ; but a gentleman 
 
THE FIRS T MESS A GE HOME. 1 3 1 
 
 might have told you that he had borrowed money from a 
 friend of yours, who lent it because of you. But there's 
 nothing of that in the letter — of course not — only appeals to 
 high moral principles, I suppose, and a sort of going down 
 on his knees to you that you mayn't withdraw from a bargain 
 he swindled you into — " 
 
 " Mabyn, I won't hear another word ! This is really most 
 insolent. You may say of me what you please ; but it is 
 most cruel — it is most unworthy of you, Mabyn — to say such 
 things of any one who cannot defend himself. And I won't 
 listen to them, Mabyn — let me say that once and for all." 
 
 " Very well, Wenna," the youngest sister said, with two 
 big tears rising to her eyes as she rose and went to the door. 
 " You can quarrel with me if you please — but I've told you 
 the truth — and there's those who love you too well to see 
 you made unhappy; but I suppose I am to say nothing 
 more — " 
 
 And she went ; and Wenna sat down by the window, 
 thinking, with a sigh, that it seemed her fate to make every- 
 body miserable. She sat there for a long time with the 
 letter in her hand ; and sometimes she looked at it ; but did 
 not care to read it over again. The knowledge that she had 
 it was something of a relief ; she would use it as a talisman 
 to dispel doubts and cares when these came into her mind ; 
 but she would wait until the necessity arose. She had one 
 long and argumentative letter to which she in secret resorted 
 whenever she wished to have the assurance that her accept- 
 ance of Mr. Roscorla had been a right thing to do ; here was 
 a letter which would exorcise all anxious surmises as to the 
 future which might creep in upon her during the wakeful 
 hours of the night. She would put them both carefully into 
 her drawer, even as she put a bit of camphor there to keep 
 away moths. 
 
 So she rose, with saddened eyes, and yet with something 
 of a lighter heart ; and in passing by the side-table she 
 stopped — perhaps by inadvertence — to look at the basket of 
 primroses which Harry Trelyon had sent her. She seemed 
 surprised. Apparently missing something, she looked 
 around and on the floor, to see that it had not fallen ; and 
 then she said to herself, " I suppose Mabyn has taken it for 
 her hair." 
 
I3 2 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 tintagel's walls. 
 
 What was the matter with Harry Trelyon ? His mother 
 could not make out, and there never had been much confi- 
 dence between them, so that she did not care to ask. But 
 she watched ; and she saw that he had, for the time at least, 
 forsaken his accustomed haunts and ways, and become 
 gloomy, silent, and self-possessed. Dick was left neglected 
 in the stables ; you no longer heard his rapid clatter along 
 the highway, with the not over-melodious voice of his master 
 singing "The Men of Merry, Merry England" or "The 
 Young Chevalier." The long and slender fishing-rod re- 
 mained on the pegs in the hall, although you could hear the 
 flop of the small burn-trout of an evening when the flies were 
 thick over the stream. The dogs were deprived of their ac- 
 customed runs ; the horses had to be taken out for exercise 
 by the groom ; and the various and innumerable animals 
 about the place missed their doses of alternate petting and 
 teasing, all because Master Harry had chosen to shut himself 
 up in his study. 
 
 The mother of the young man very soon discovered that 
 her son was. not devoting his hours of seclusion in that ex- 
 traordinary museum of natural history to making trout-flies, 
 stuffing birds, and arranging pinned butterflies in cases, as 
 was his custom. These were not the occupations which now 
 kept Trelyon up half the night. When she went in of a 
 morning before he was up, she found that he had been cov- 
 ering whole sheets of paper with careful copying out of pas- 
 sages taken at random from the volumes beside him. A 
 Latin Grammar was ordinarily on the /table — a book which 
 the young gentleman had brought back from school pretty 
 well free from thumb-marks Occasionally a fencing-foil lay 
 among these evidences of study; while the small aquaria, 
 the cases of stuffed animals with fancy backgrounds, and the 
 numerous birdcages had been thrust aside to give fair elbow- 
 room. " Perhaps," said Mrs. Trelyon to herself, with much 
 satisfaction — " perhaps, after all, that good little girl has 
 given him a hint about Parliament, and he is preparing him- 
 self." 
 
 A few days of this seclusion, however, began to make the 
 mother anxious ; and so, one morning, she went into his 
 room. He hastily turned over the sheet of paper on which 
 
TINT A GEL'S WALLS. 
 
 *33 
 
 he had been writing ; then he looked up, not too well 
 pleased. 
 
 •'Harry, why do you stay indoors on such a beautiful 
 morning ? It is quite like summer." 
 
 " Yes, I know," he said indifferently ; " I suppose we shall 
 soon have a batch of parsons here : summer always brings 
 them. They come out with hot weather — like bluebottles." 
 
 Mrs. Trelyon was disappointed ; she thought Wenna Rose- 
 warne had cured him of his insane dislike to clergymen — in- 
 deed, for many a day gone by he had kept respectfully silent 
 on the subject. 
 
 " But we shall not ask them to come if you'd rather not," 
 she said, wishing to do all she could to encourage the reform- 
 ation of his ways. " I think Mr. Barnes promised to visit us 
 early in May ; but he is only one." 
 
 M And one is worse than a dozen. When there's a lot you 
 can leave 'em to fight it out among themselves. But one — 
 to have one stalking about an empty house, like a ghost 
 dipped in ink ! Why can't you ask anybody but clergymen, 
 mother r There are whole lots of people would like to run 
 down to Cornwall for a fortnight before getting into the thick 
 of the season — there's the Pomeroy girls as good as offered 
 to come." 
 
 " But they can't come by themselves," Mrs, Trelyon said 
 with a feeble protest. 
 
 " Oh yes, they can ; they're ugly enough to be safe any- 
 where. And why don't you get Juliott up ? She'll be glad 
 to get away from that old curmudgeon for a week. And you 
 ought to ask the Trewhellas, mother and daughter, to dinner 
 — that old fellow is not half a bad sort of fellow, although 
 he's a clergyman." 
 
 " Harry," said his mother, interrupting him, " I'll fill the 
 house, if that will please you ; and you shall ask whomsoever 
 you please." 
 
 " All right," said he ; " the place wants waking up." 
 
 " And then," said the^nother, wishing to be still more gra- 
 cious, " you might ask Miss Rosewarne to dine with us — she 
 might come well enough, although Mr. Roscorla is not 
 here." 
 
 A sort of gloom fell over the young man's face again. 
 
 ; ' I can't ask her ; you may if you like." 
 
 Mrs. Trelyon stared. " What's the matter, Harry ? Have 
 you and she quarrelled ? Why, I was going to ask you, if 
 you were down in the village to-day, to say that I should like 
 to see her." 
 
34 
 
 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " And how could I take such a message ? " the young man 
 said, rather warmly. " I don't see why the girl should be or- 
 dered up to see you as if you were conferring a favor on her 
 by joining in this scheme. She's very hard-worked ; you 
 have got plenty of time ; you ought to call on her, and study 
 her convenience, instead of making her trot all the way up 
 here whenever you want to talk to her." 
 
 The pale and gentle woman was anxious not to give way 
 to petulance just then. 
 
 " Well you are quite right, Harry ; it was thoughtless of 
 me. I should like to go down and see her this morning; but 
 I have sent Jakes over to the blacksmith's, and I am afraid 
 of that new lad." 
 
 " Oh, I will drive you down to the" inn. I suppose among 
 them they can put the horses to the wagonette," the young 
 man said ; and then Mrs. Trelyon went off to get ready. 
 
 It was a beautiful, fresh morning ; the far-off line of the 
 sea still and blue ; the sunlight lighting up the wonderful 
 masses of primroses along the tall banks ; the air sweet with 
 the resinous odor of the gorse. Mrs. Trelyon looked with a 
 gentle and childlike pleasure on all these things, and was 
 fairly inclined to be very friendly with the young gentleman 
 beside her. But he was more than ordinarily silent and mo- 
 rose. 
 
 He spoke scarcely a word to her as the carriage rolled 
 along the silent highways. He drove rapicHy and carelessly 
 down the steep thoroughfare of Eglosilyan, although there 
 were plenty of loose stones about. Then he pulled sharply 
 up in front of the inn ; and George Rosewarne appeared. 
 
 " Mr. Rosewarne, let me introduce you to my mother. She 
 wants to see Miss Wenna for a few moments, if she is not en- 
 gaged." 
 
 Mr. Rosewarne took off his cap, assisted Mrs. Trelyon to 
 alight, and then showed her the way into the house. 
 
 " Won't you come in, Harry ? " his mother said. 
 
 " No." 
 
 A man had come out to the horses' heads. 
 
 " You leave 'em alone," said the young gentleman. " I 
 sha'n't get down." 
 
 Mabyn came out, her bright young face full of pleasure. 
 
 " How do you do, Mabyn ? " he said coldly, and without 
 offering to shake hands. 
 
 " Won't you come in for a minute ? " she said rather sur- 
 prised. 
 
TIN TAG EL'S WALLS. 135 
 
 " No, thank you. Don't you stay out in the cold ; you've 
 got nothing round your neck.'' 
 
 Mabyn went away without saying a word, but thinking that 
 the coolness of the air was much less apparent than that of 
 his manner and speech. 
 
 Being at length left to himself, he turned his attention to 
 the horses before him, and eventually, to pass the time, took 
 out his pocket-handkerchief and began to polish the silver on 
 the handle of the whip. He was disturbed in this peaceful 
 occupation by a very timid voice, which said, " Mr. Trel- 
 yon." 
 
 He turned round and found that Wenna's wistful face was 
 looking up to him, with a look in it partly of friendly gladness, 
 and partly of anxiety and entreaty. 
 
 " Mr. Trelyon," she said, with her eyes cast down, " I think 
 you are offended with me. I am very sorry. I beg your for- 
 giveness." 
 
 The reins were fastened up in a minute, and he was down 
 in the road beside her. 
 
 "Now, look here, Wenna," he said. "What could you 
 mean by treating me so unfairly ? I don't mean in being 
 vexed with me ; but in shunting me off as it were, instead of 
 having it out at once. I don't think it was fair." 
 
 " I am very sorry," she said. " I think I was very wrong; 
 but you don't know what a girl feels about such things. 
 Will you come into the inn ? " 
 
 " And leave my horses ? No," he said, good-naturedly. 
 " But as soon as I get that fellow out, I will ; so you go in 
 at once, and I'll follow you directly. And mind, Wenna, 
 don't you be so silly again, or you and I may have a real 
 quarrel. And I know that would break your heart." 
 
 The old pleased smile lit up her face again as she turned 
 and went indoors ; he, meanwhile, proceeded to summon an 
 hostler by shouting his name at the pitch of his voice. 
 
 The small party of women assembled in the parlor were a 
 trifle embarrassed : it was the first time that the great lady of 
 the neighborhood had honored the inn with a visit. She 
 herself was merely quiet, gentle, and pleased ; but Mrs. 
 Rosewarne, with her fine eyes and sensitive face lit up and 
 quickened by the novel excitement, was all anxiety to amuse 
 and interest and propitiate her distinguished guest. Mabyn, 
 too, was rather shy and embarrassed ; she said things has- 
 tily, and then seemed afraid of her interference. Wenna 
 was scarcely at her ease, because she saw that her mother 
 and sister were not ; and she was very anxious, moreover, 
 
136 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 that these two should think well of Mrs. Trelyon and be 
 disposed to like her. 
 
 The sudden appearance of a man, with a man's rough 
 ways and loud voice, seemed to shake these feminine ele- 
 ments better together, and to clear the air of timid appre- 
 hensions and cautions. Harry Trelyon came into the room 
 with quite a marked freshness and good-nature on his face. 
 His mother was surprised : what had completely changed 
 his manner in a couple of minutes ? 
 
 " How are you, Mrs. Rosewarne ? " he cried in his off- 
 hand fashion. " You oughtn't to be indoors on such a morn- 
 ing, or we'll never get you well, you know ; and the doctor 
 will be sending you to Penzance or Devonport for a change. 
 — Well, Mabyn, have you convinced anybody yet that your 
 farm-laborers with their twelve shillings a week are better 
 off than the slate-workers with their eighteen ? You'd bet- 
 ter take your sister's opinion on that point, and don't squab- 
 ble with me. — Mother, what's the use of sitting here ? You 
 bring Miss Wenna with you into the wagonette, and talk to 
 her there about all your business affairs, and I'll take you 
 for a drive. Come along ! And, of course, I want some- 
 body with me : will you come, Mrs. Rosewarne, or will 
 Mabyn ? You can't ? — then Mabyn must. — Go along, Mabyn, 
 and put your best hat on, and make yourself uncommonly 
 smart, and you shall be allowed to sit next the driver — 
 that's me ! " 
 
 And indeed he bundled the whole of them about until 
 they were seated in the wagonette just as he had indicated ; 
 and away they went from the inn-door. 
 
 " And you think you are coming back in half an hour ? " 
 he said to his companion, who was very pleased and very 
 proud to occupy such a place. " Oh no, you're not. You're 
 a young and simple thing, Mabyn. These two behind us 
 will go on talking now for any time about yards of calico 
 and crochet-needles and two-penny subscriptions ; while you 
 and I, don't you see, are quietly driving them over to Tin- 
 tagel — " 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Trelyon ! " said Mabyn. 
 
 " You keep quiet. That isn't the half of what's going to 
 befall you. I shall put up the horses at the inn, and I 
 shall take you all down to the beach for a scramble to 
 improve your appetite ; and at the said inn you shall have 
 luncheon with me, if you're all very good and behave your- 
 selves. Then we shall drive back just when we partic- 
 ularly please. Do you like the picture ? " 
 
TINT A GEL'S WALLS. 137 
 
 " It is delightful — oh, I am sure Wenna will enjoy it ! " 
 Mabyn said. " But don't you think, Mr. Trelyon, that you 
 might ask her to sit here ? One sees better here than sit- 
 ting sideways in a wagonette." 
 
 " They have their business affairs to settle." 
 
 " Yes," said Mabyn, petulantly, " that is what every one 
 says ; nobody expects Wenna ever to have a moment's en- 
 joyment to herself ! Oh ! here is old Uncle Cornish — he's 
 a great friend of Wenna' s — he will be dreadfully hurt if she 
 passes him without saying a word." 
 
 " Then we must pull up and address Uncle Cornish. I 
 believe he used to be the most thieving old ruffian of a 
 poacher in this county." 
 
 There was a hale old man, of seventy or so, seated on a 
 low wall in front of one of the gardens ; his face shaded 
 from the sunlight by a broad hat ; his lean gray hands em- 
 ployed in buckling up the leathern leggings that encased his 
 spare calves. He got up when the horses stopped, and 
 looked in rather a dazed fashion at the carriage. 
 
 " How do you do this morning, Mr. Cornish ? " Wenna said. 
 
 " Why, now, to be sure ! " the old man said, as if reproaching 
 his own imperfect vision. " 'Tis a fine marnin, Miss Wenna, 
 and yii be agwoin for a drive." 
 
 " And how is your daughter-in-law, Mr. Cornish ? Has she 
 sold the pig yet ? " 
 
 "Naw, she hasn't sold the peg. .If yii be agwoin thru 
 Trevalga, Miss Wenna, just yii stop and have a look at that 
 peg; yu'll be mazed to see en ; 'tis many a year agone sence 
 there has been such a peg by me. And perhaps yii'd take 
 the laste bit o' refrashment, Miss Wenna, as yii go by ; Jane 
 would get yii a coop o' tay to once." 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Cornish, I'll look in and see the pig 
 some other time; to-day we sha'n't be going as far as 
 Trevalga." 
 
 " Oh, won't you ? " said Master Harry, in a low voice, as 
 he drove on. " You'll be in Trevalga before you know where 
 you are." 
 
 Which was literally the case. Wenna was so much engaged 
 in her talk with Mrs. Trelyon that she did not notice how far 
 away they were getting from Eglosilyan. But Mabyn and 
 her companion knew. They were now on the high uplands 
 by the coast, driving between the beautiful banks which were 
 starred with primroses and stitchwort and red deadnettle, 
 and a dozen other bright and tender-hued firstlings of the 
 year. The sun was warm on the hedges and the fields, but a 
 
138 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 cool breeze blew about these lofty heights, and stirred Mabyn's 
 splendid masses of hair as they drove rapidly along. Far 
 over on their right, beyond the majestic wall of cliff, lay the 
 great blue plain of the sea ; and there stood the bold brown 
 masses of the Sisters Rocks, with a circle of white foam 
 around their base. As they looked down into the south, the 
 white light was so fierce that they could but faintly discern ob- 
 jects through it ; but here and there they caught a glimpse of 
 a square church-tower, or of a few rude cottages clustered on 
 the high plain, and these seemed to be of a transparent gray 
 in the blinding glare of the sun. 
 
 Then suddenly in front of them they found a deep chasm, 
 with the white road leading down into its cool shadows. There 
 was the channel of a stream, with the rocks looking purple 
 amid the gray bushes ; and here were rich meadows, with 
 cattle standing deep in the grass and the daisies ; and over 
 there, on the other side, a strip of forest, with the sunlight 
 shining along one side of the tall and dark green pines. As 
 they drove down into this place, which is called the Rocky 
 Valley, a magpie rose from one of the fields and flew up into 
 the firs. 
 
 " That is sorrow," said Mabyn. 
 
 Another one rose and flew up to the same spot. 
 
 " And that is joy," she said, with her face brightening. 
 
 " Oh, but I saw another as we came to the brow of the hill, 
 and that means a marriage ! " her companion remarked to her. 
 
 " Oh, no ! " she said, quite eagerly. " I am sure there was 
 no third one. I am certain there were only two. I am quite 
 positive we only saw two." 
 
 " But why should you be so anxious ? " Trelyon said. 
 " You know you ought to be looking forward to a marriage, 
 and that is always a happy thing. Are you envious, Mabyn ? " 
 
 The girl was silent for a moment or two. Then she said, 
 with a sudden bitterness in her tone — 
 
 " Isn't it a fearful thing to have to be civil to people whom 
 you hate ? Isn't it? — when they come and establish a claim 
 on you through some one you care for. You look at them — 
 yes, you can look at them — and you've got to see them kiss 
 some one that you love ; and you wonder she doesn't rush 
 away for a bit of caustic and cauterize the place, as you do 
 when a mad dog bites you." 
 
 " Mabyn," said the young man beside her, "you are a 
 most unchristian sort of person this morning. Who is it 
 whom you hate in such a fashion ? Will you take the reins 
 while I walk up the hill ? " 
 
TINTAGEVS WALLS. 139 
 
 Mabyn's little burst of passion still burned in her cheeks, 
 and gave a proud and angry look to her mouth ; but she took 
 the reins all the same, and her companion leaped to the 
 ground. The banks on each side of the road going up this 
 hill were tall and steep ; here and there great masses of wild 
 flowers were scattered among the grass and the gorse. From 
 time to time he stooped and picked up a handful ; until, when 
 they had got up to the high and level country again, he had 
 brought together a very pretty bouquet of wild blossoms, 
 When he got into his seat and took the reins again, he care- 
 lessly gave the bouquet to Mabyn. 
 
 " Oh, how pretty ! " she said ; and then she turned around. 
 " Wenna, are you very much engaged ? Look at the pretty 
 bouquet Mr. Trelyon has gathered for you." 
 
 Wenna's quiet face flushed with pleasure when she took 
 the flowers , and Mrs. Trelyon looked pleased, and said they 
 were very pretty. She evidently thought that her son was 
 greatly improved in his manners when he condescended to 
 gather flowers to present to a girl. Nay, was he not at this 
 moment devoting a whole forenoon of his precious time to the 
 unaccustomed task of taking ladies for a drive ? Mrs. Trelyon 
 regarded Wenna with a friendly look, and began to take a 
 greater liking than ever to that sensitive and expressive face, 
 and to the quiet and earnest eyes. 
 
 " But, Mr. Trelyon," said Wenna, looking around, " hadn't 
 we better turn ? We shall be at Trevenna directly." 
 
 " Yes, you are quite right," said Master Harry ; "you will 
 be at Trevenna directly, and you are likely to be there for 
 some time. For Mabyn and I have resolved to have lunch- 
 eon there ; and we are going down to Tintagel ; and we 
 shall most likely climb to King Arthur's Castle. Have you 
 any objection ? " 
 
 Wenna had none. The drive through the cool and bright 
 day had braced up her spirits. She was glad to know that 
 everything looked promising about this scheme of hers. So 
 she willingly surrendered herself to the holiday ; and in due 
 time they drove into the odd and remote lijttle viUage, and 
 pulled up in front of the inn. 
 
 So soon as the hostler had come to the horses' heads, the 
 young gentleman who had been driving jumped down and 
 assisted his three companions to alight ; then he led the way 
 into the inn. In the doorway stood a stranger — probably a 
 commercial traveller — who, with his hands in his pockets, his 
 legs apart, and a cigar in his mouth, had been visiting those 
 three ladies with a very hearty stare as they got out of the 
 
t4© THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 carriage. Moreover, when they came to the doorway he did 
 not budge an inch, nor did he take his cigar from his mouth ; 
 and so, as it had never been Mr. Trelyon's fashion to sidle 
 past any one, that young gentleman made straight for the 
 middle of the passage, keeping his shoulders very square. 
 The consequence was a collision. The imperturbable per- 
 son with his hands in his pockets was sent staggering against 
 the wall, while his cigar dropped on the stone. 
 
 " What the devil — I " he was beginning to say, when Trel- 
 yon got the three women past him and into the small parlor; 
 then he went back. 
 
 " Did you wish to speak to me, sir ? No, you didn't — I 
 perceive you are a prudent person. Next time ladies pass 
 you you'd better take your cigar out of your mouth, or some- 
 body'll destroy that two pennyworth of tobacco for you. 
 Good-morning." 
 
 Then he returned to the little parlor, to v/hich a waitress 
 had been summoned. 
 
 " Now Jinny, pull yourself together and let's have some- 
 thing nice for luncheon — in an hour's time, sharp — you will, 
 won't you ? And how about that Sillery with the blue star — 
 not the stuff with the gold head that some abandoned ruffian 
 in Plymouth brews in his back garden. Well, now, can't 
 you speak ? 
 
 "Yes, sir," said the bewildered maid. 
 
 " That's a good thing — a very good thing," said he, putting 
 the shawls together on the sofa. " Don't you forget how to 
 speak until you get married. And don't let anybody come 
 into this room. And you can let my man have his dinner 
 and a pint of beer — oh ! I forgot, I'm my own man this 
 morning, so you needn't go asking for him. Now, will you 
 remember all these things ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; but what would you like for luncheon ? " 
 " My good girl, we should like a thousand things for lunch- 
 eon such as Tintagel never saw , but what you've got to do 
 is to give us the nicest things you've got ; do you see ? I 
 leave it entirely in your hands. Come along, young people ! " 
 And so he bundled his charges out again into the main 
 street of the village ; and somehow it happened that Mabyn 
 addressed a timid remark to Mrs. Trelyon, and that Mrs. 
 Trelyon, in answering it stopped for a moment; so that 
 Master Harry was sent to Wenna's side, and these two led 
 the way down the wide thoroughfare. There were few peo- 
 ple visible in the old-fashioned place ; here and there an 
 aged crone came out to the door of one of the rude stone 
 
TINTA GEL'S WALLS 141 
 
 cottages to look at the strangers. Overhead the sky was 
 veiled with a thin fleece of white cloud ; but the light was 
 intense for all that ; and, indeed, the colors of the objects 
 around seemed all the more clear and marked. 
 
 "Well, Miss Wenna," said the young man, gayly, "how 
 long are we to remain friends ? What is the next fault you 
 will have to find with me ? Or have you discovered some- 
 thing wrong already ? " 
 
 "'Oh no!" she said, with a quiet smile, "I am very good 
 friends with you this morning. You have pleased your mother 
 very much by bringing her for this drive." 
 
 " Oh, nonsense ! " he said. " She might have as many 
 drives as she chose ; but presently you'll find a lot o' those 
 parsons back at the house, and she'll take to her white gowns 
 again, and the playing of the organ all the day long, and all 
 that sham stuff. I tell you what it is : she never seems alive 
 — she never seems to take any interest in anything — unless 
 you're with her. Now you will see how the novelty of this 
 luncheon-party in an inn will amuse her ; but do you think 
 she would care for it if she and I were here alone ? " 
 
 " Perhaps you never tried," Miss Wenna said, gently. 
 
 " Perhaps I knew she wouldn't come. However, don't let's 
 have a fight. I mean to be very civil to you to-day — I do, 
 really." 
 
 " I am so much obliged to you," she said, meekly. " But 
 pray don't give yourself unnecessary trouble." 
 
 "Oh," said he, "I'd always be civil to you if you would 
 treat me decently. But you say far more rude things than I 
 do — in that soft way, you know, that looks as if it were all 
 silk and honey. I do think you've awfully little consideration 
 for human failings. If one goes wrong in the least thing — 
 even in one's spelling — you say something that sounds as 
 pleasant as possible, and all the same it transfixes you just as 
 you stick a pin through a beetle. You are very hard, you are 
 — I mean with those who would like to be friends with you. 
 When it's mere strangers, and cottagers, and people of that 
 sort, who don't care a brass farthing about you, then I believe 
 you're all gentleness and kindness ; but to your real friends 
 — the edge of a saw is smooth compared to you.'* 
 
 " Am I so very harsh to my friends ? " the young lady said 
 in a resigned way. 
 
 " Oh, well ! " he said, with some compunction, " I don't 
 quite say that ; but you could be much more pleasant if you 
 liked, and a little more charitable to their faults. You know 
 there are some who would give a great deal to win your ap- 
 
142 
 
 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 proval ; and perhaps when you find fault they are so disap- 
 pointed that they think your words are sharper than you 
 mean ; and sometimes they think you might give them credit 
 for trying to please you, at least." 
 
 " And who are these persons ? " Wenna asked, with another 
 smile stealing over her face. 
 
 " Oh ! " said he, rather shamefacedly, " there's no need to 
 explain anything to you. You always see it before one need 
 put it in words." 
 
 Well, perhaps it was in his manner, or in the tone of his 
 voice, that there was something which seemed at this moment 
 to touch her deeply ; for she half turned, and looked up at 
 his face with her honest and earnest eyes, and said to him — 
 
 "Yes, I do know without your telling me; and it makes 
 me happy to hear you talk so ; and if I am unjust to you, you 
 must not think it intentional. And I shall try not to be so in 
 the future." 
 
 Mrs. Trelyon was regarding with a kindly look the two 
 young people walking in front of her. Whatever pleased her 
 son pleased her ; and she was glad to see him enjoy himself 
 in so light-hearted a fashion. These two were chatting to 
 each other in the friendliest manner ; sometimes they stopped 
 to pick up wild flowers ; they were as two children together, 
 under the fair and light summer skies. 
 
 They went down and along a narrow valley, until they sud- 
 denly stood in front of the sea, the green waters of which 
 were breaking in upon a small and lonely creek. What 
 strange light was this that fell from the white skies above, 
 rendering all the objects around them sharp in outline and 
 intense in color ? The beach before them seemed of a pale 
 lilac, where the green waves broke in a semicircle of white. 
 On their right some masses of ruddy rock jutted out into the 
 cold sea, and there were huge black caverns into which the 
 waves dashed and roared. On their left and far above them 
 towered a great and isolated rock, its precipitous sides scored 
 here and there with twisted lines of red and yellow quartz ; 
 and on the summit of this bold headland, amid the dark green 
 of the sea-grass, they could see the dusky ruins— the crum- 
 bling walls and doorways and battlements — of the castle that 
 is named in all the stories of King Arthur and his knights. 
 The bridge across to the mainland has, in the course of 
 centuries, fallen away ; but there, on the other side of the 
 wide chasm, were the ruins of the other portions of the castle, 
 scarcely to be distinguished in parts from the grass-grown 
 rocks. How long ago was it since Sir Tristram rode out 
 
TINTAGEVS WALLS. 1 43 
 
 here to the end of the world, to find the beautiful Isoulte 
 awaiting bim — she whom he had brought from Ireland as an 
 unwilling bride to the old King Mark? And what of the 
 joyous company of knights and ladies who once held high 
 sport in the courtyard there ? Trelyon, looking shyly at his 
 companion, could see that her eyes seemed centuries away 
 from him. She was quite unconscious of his covertly staring 
 at her ; for she was absently looking at the high and bare 
 precipices, the deserted slopes of dark sea-grass, and the 
 lonely and crumbling ruins. She was wondering whether the 
 ghosts of those vanished people ever came back to this deso- 
 late headland, where they would find the world scarcely al- 
 tered since they had left it. Did they come at night, when 
 the land was dark, and when there was a light over the sea 
 only coming from the stars ? If one were to come at night 
 alone, and sit down here by the shore, might not one see 
 strange things far overhead, or hear some sound other than 
 the falling of the waves ? 
 
 " Miss Wenna," he said — and she started suddenly — " are 
 you bold enough to climb up to the castle ? I know my 
 mother would rather stay here. ' 
 
 She went with him mechanically. She followed him up 
 the rude steps cut in the steep slopes of slate, holding his 
 hand where that was necessary ; but her head was so full of 
 dreams that she answered him when he spoke only with a vague 
 Yes or No. When they descended again, they found that 
 Mabyn had taken Mrs. Trelyon down to the beach, and had 
 inveigled her into entering a huge cavern, or rather a natural 
 tunnel, that went right through underneath the promontory 
 on which the castle is built. They were in a sort of green- 
 hued twilight, a scent of sea-weed filling the damp air, and 
 their voices raising an echo in the great hall of rock. 
 
 " I hope the climbing has not made you giddy," Mrs. Trel- 
 yon said in her kind way to Wenna, noticing that she was 
 very silent and distraite. 
 
 " Oh no ! " Mabyn said promptly. " She has been seeing, 
 ghosts. We always know when Wenna has been seeing 
 ghosts. She remains so for hours." 
 
 And, indeed, at this time she was rather more reserved 
 than usual all during their walk back to luncheon and while 
 they were in the inn ; and yet she was obviously very happy, 
 and sometimes even amused by the childlike pleasure which 
 Mrs. Trelyon seemed to obtain from these unwonted expe- 
 riences. 
 
 " Come nowj mother," Master Harry said, "what are you 
 
I 4 4 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 going to do for me when I come of age next month ? Fill 
 the house with guests? — yes, you promised that — with not 
 more than one parson to the dozen. And when they are all 
 feasting and gabbling, and missing the targets with their 
 arrows, you'll slip quietly away, and I'll drive you and Miss 
 Wenna over here, and you'll go and get your feet wet again 
 in that cavern, and you'll come up here again, and have an 
 elegant luncheon, just like this. Won't that do ? " 
 
 " I don't quite know about the elegance of the luncheon ; 
 but I'm sure our little excursion has been very pleasant. 
 Don't you think so, Miss Rosewarne ? " Mrs. Trelyon said. 
 
 " Indeed I do," said Wenna, with her big dark eyes coming 
 back from their trance. 
 
 "And here is another thing," remarked young Trelyon. 
 " There's a picture I've seen of the heir coming of age— he's 
 a horrid, self-sufficient young cad, but never mind— and it 
 seems to be a day of general jollification. Can't I give a 
 present to somebody ? Well, I'm going to give it to a young 
 lady, who never cares for anything but what she can give away 
 again to somebody else ; and it is — well it is — why don't you 
 guess, Mabyn ? " 
 
 " I don't know what you mean to give Wenna," said 
 Mabyn, naturally. 
 
 " Why, you silly, I mean to give her a dozen sewing-ma- 
 chines — a baker's dozen — thirteen — there ! Oh, I heard you 
 as you came along. It was all, ' Three sewing-machines will cost 
 so much, and four sewing-?nachines will cost so much, and five 
 sewing-machines will cost so much. And a penny a week from 
 so many subscribers will be so much, and twopence a week from 
 so many will be so much;' and all this as if my mother 
 could tell you how much twice two was. My arithmetic 
 ain't very brilliant ; but as for hers — And these you shall 
 have, Miss Wenna — one baker's dozen of sewing-machines, as 
 per order, duly delivered, carriage free ; empty casks and 
 bottles to be returned." 
 
 " That is very kind of you, Mr. Trelyon," Wenna said — and 
 all the dreams had gone straight out of her head so soon as 
 this was mentioned — "but we can't possibly accept them. 
 You know our scheme is to make the Sewing Club quite self- 
 supporting — no charity." 
 
 "Oh, what stuff!" the young gentleman cried. "You 
 know you will give all your labor and supervision for noth- 
 ing — i sn 't that charity ? And you know you will let off all 
 sorts of people owing you subscriptions the moment some 
 blessed baby falls ill. And you know you won't charge in- 
 
CONFESSION. 145 
 
 terest on all the outlay. But if you insist on paying me back 
 for my sewing-machines out of the overwhelming profits at 
 the end of next year, then I'll take the money. I'm not proud." 
 
 "Then we will take six sewing-machines from you, if you 
 please, Mr. Trelyon, on those conditions," said Wenna, 
 gravely. And Master Harry — with a look towards Mabyn 
 which was just about as good as a wink — consented. 
 
 As they drove quietly back again to Eglosilyan, Mabyn had 
 taken her former place by the driver, and found him uncom- 
 monly thoughtful. He answered her questions, but that was 
 all ; and it was so unusual to find Harry Trelyon in this mood 
 that she said to him — 
 
 " Mr. Trelyon, have you been seeing ghosts too ? " 
 
 He turned to her and said — 
 
 "I was thinking about something. Look here, Mabyn; 
 did you ever know any one, or do you know any one, whose 
 face is a sort of barometer to you ? Suppose that you see 
 her look pale and tired, or sad in any way, then down go 
 your spirits, and you almost wish you had never been born. 
 When you see her face brighten up, and get full of healthy 
 color, you feel glad enough to burst out singing or go mad ; 
 anyhow you know that everything's all right. What the 
 we'ather is, what people may say about you, whatever else 
 may happen to you, that's nothing — all you want to see is 
 just that one person's face look perfectly bright and perfectly 
 happy, and nothing can touch you then. Did you ever know 
 anybody like that ? " he added, rather abruptly. 
 
 " Oh yes ! " said Mabyn, in a low voice ; " that is when you 
 are in love with some one. And there is only one face in all 
 the world that I look to for all these things— there is only 
 one person I know who tells you openly and simply in her 
 face all that affects her— and that is our Wenna. I suppose 
 you have noticed that, Mr. Trelyon ? " 
 
 But he did not make any answer. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 CONFESSION. 
 
 The lad lay dreaming in the warm meadows, by the side of 
 a small and rapid brook, the clear waters of which plashed 
 and bubbled in the sunlight as they hurried past the brown 
 stones. His fishing-rod lay near him, hidden in the long 
 
146 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 grass and the daises. The sun was hot in the valley — shin- 
 ing on a wall of gray rock behind him, and throwing purple 
 shadows over the clefts ; shining on the dark bushes beside 
 the stream, and on the lush green of the meadows ; shining 
 on the trees beyond, in the shadow of which some dark-red 
 cattle were standing. Then away on the other side of the 
 valley rose gently sloping woods, gray and green in the haze 
 of the heat ; and over these again was the pale blue sky with 
 scarcely a cloud in it. It was a hot day to be found in spring- 
 time ; but the waters of the brook seemed cool and pleasant 
 as they gurgled by, and occasionally a breath of wind blew 
 from over the woods. For the rest, he lay so still on this 
 fine, indolent, dreamy morning that the birds around seemed 
 to take no note of his presence j and one of the large wood- 
 peckers, with his scarlet head and green body brilliant in the 
 sun, flew close by him and disappeared into the bushes oppo- 
 site, like a sudden gleam of color shot by a diamond. 
 
 " Next month," he was thinking to himself, as he lay with 
 his hands behind his head, not caring to shade his handsome 
 and well-tanned face from the warm sun — " next month I shall 
 be twenty-one, and most folks will consider me a man. Any- 
 how, I don't know the man whom I wouldn't fight, or run, or 
 ride, or shoot against, for any wager he liked. But of all the 
 people who know anything about me, just that one whose 
 opinion I care for will not consider me a man at all, but only 
 a boy. And that without saying anything. You can tell 
 somehow, by a mere look what her feelings are ; and you 
 know that what she thinks is true. Of course it's true — I am 
 only a boy. What's the good of me to anybody ? I could 
 look after a farm — that is, I could look after other people 
 doing their work, but I couldn't do any myself. And that 
 seems to me what she is always looking at — what's the good 
 of you, what are you doing, what are you busy about ? It's 
 all very well for her to be busy, for she can do a hundred 
 thousand things, and she is always at them. What can 
 I do ? " 
 
 Then his wandering day-dreamings took another turn, 
 " It was an odd thing for Mabyn to say, ' That is when 
 you are in love with some one* But those girls take every- 
 thing for love. They don't know how you can admire almost 
 to worshipping the goodness of a woman, and how you are 
 anxious that she should be well and happy, and how you 
 would do anything in the world to please her, without fancy- 
 ing straight away that you are in love with her, and want to 
 marry her, and drive about in the same carriage with her. I 
 
COXFESSIOJV. 147 
 
 shall be quite as fond of Wenna Rosewarne when she is 
 married ; although I shall hate that little brute with his rum 
 and his treacle — the cheek of him, in asking her to marry 
 him, is astonishing. He is the most hideous little beast that 
 could have been picked out to marry any woman ; but I sup- 
 poes he has appealed to her compassion, and then she'll do 
 anything. But if there was anybody else in love with her — if 
 she cared the least bit about anybody else — wouldn't I go 
 straight to her, and insist on her shunting that fellow aside ! 
 What claim has he on any other feeling of hers but her 
 compassion ? Why, if that fellow were to come and try to 
 frighten her — and if I were in the affair, and if she appealed 
 to me even by a look — then there would be short work with 
 something or somebody ! " 
 
 He got up hastily, with something of an angry look on his 
 face. He did not notice that he had startled all the birds 
 around from out of the bushes. He picked up his rod and 
 line in a morose fashion, not seeming to care about adding to 
 the half-dozen small and red-speckled trout he had in his 
 basket. 
 
 While he was thus irresolutely standing, he caught sight of 
 a girl's figure coming rapidly along the valley, under the 
 shadow of some ash-trees growing by the stream. It was 
 Wenna Rosewarne herself, and she seemed to be hurrying 
 towards him. She was carrying some black object in her 
 arms. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Trelyon ! " she said, " what am I to do with this 
 little dog ? I saw him kicking in the road and foaming at 
 the mouth — and then he got up and ran — and I took him — " 
 
 Before she had time to say anything more the young man 
 made a sudden dive at the dog, caught hold of him, and 
 turned and heaved him into the stream. He fell into a little 
 pool of clear brown water ; he spluttered and paddled there 
 for a second ; then he got his footing and scrambled across 
 the stones up to the opposite bank, where he began shaking 
 the water from his coat among the long grass. 
 
 " Oh, how could you be so disgracefully cruel ! " she said, 
 with her face full of indignation. 
 
 " And how could you be so imprudent ? " he said, quite as 
 vehemently. " Why, whose is the dog ? " 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 " And you catch up some mongrel little cur in the middle 
 of the highway — he might have been mad — " 
 
 " I knew he wasn't mad ! " she said ; " it was only a fit ; 
 
148 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 and how could you be so cruel as to throw him into the 
 river ? " 
 
 " Oh " said the young man, coolly, " a dash of cold water is 
 the best thing for a dog when it has a lit. Besides, I don't 
 care what he had, or what I did with him, so long as you are safe. 
 Your little finger is of more consequence than the necks of 
 all the curs in the country." 
 
 " Oh \ it is mean of you to say that," she retorted, warmly. 
 " You have no pity for those wretched little things that are 
 at every one's mercy. If it were a handsome and beautiful 
 dog, now, you would care for that ; or if it were a dog that 
 was killed in getting game for you, you would care for 
 that." 
 
 "Yes, certainly," he said; "these are dogs that have 
 something to recommend them." 
 
 " Yes, and every one is good to them ; they are not in need 
 of your favor. But you don't think of the wretched little 
 brutes that have nothing to recommend them — that only- 
 live on sufferance — that every one kicks and despises and 
 starves." 
 
 " Well," said he, with some compunction, " look there ! 
 That new friend of yours — he's no great beauty, you must 
 confess — is all right now. The bath has cured him. As 
 soon as he's done licking his paws, he'll be off home, wher- 
 ever that may be. But I've always noticed that about you, 
 Wenna — you're always on the side of things that are ugly 
 and helpless and useless in the world ; and you're not very 
 just to those who don't agree with you. For after all, you 
 know, one wants time to acquire that notion of yours — that it 
 is only weak and ill-favored creatures that are worthy of any 
 consideration." 
 
 " Yes"," she said, rather sadly ; " you want time to learn 
 that." 
 
 He looked at her. Did she mean that her sympathy with 
 those who were weak and ill-favored arose from some strange 
 consciousness that she herself was both ? His cheeks began 
 to burn red. He had often heard her hint something like 
 that ; and yet he had never dared to reason with her, or show 
 her what he thought of her. Should he do so now ? 
 
 " Wenna," he said, blushing hotly, " I can't make you out 
 sometimes. You speak as if no one cared for you. Now, if 
 I were to tell you — " 
 
 " Oh, I am not so ungrateful," she said, hastily. " I know 
 that two or three do — and — and, Mr. Trelyon, do you think 
 
CONFESSION. 
 
 149 
 
 you could coax that little dog over the stream again ? You 
 see he has come back again — he can't find his way home." 
 
 Mr. Trelyon called to the dog ; it came down to 'the brook's 
 side, and whined and shivered on the brink. " Do you care 
 a brass farthing about the little beast ? " he said to Wenna. 
 " I must put him on his way home," she answered. 
 Thereupon the young man went straight through the stream 
 to the other side, jumping the deeper portions of the channel ; 
 he caught up the dog, and brought it back to her ; and when 
 she was very angry with him for this mad performance, he 
 merely kicked some of the water out of his trousers, and 
 laughed. Then a smile broke over her face also. 
 
 "Is that an example of what people would do for me?" 
 
 she said, shyly. " Mr. Trelyon, you must keep walking 
 
 through the warm grass till your feet are dry ; or will you 
 
 come along to the inn, and I shall get you some shoes and 
 
 stockings ? Pray do ; and at once. I am rather in a hurry." 
 
 "I'll go along with you, anyway," he said, " and put this 
 
 little brute into the highway. But why are you in a hurry ? " 
 
 " Because," said Wenna, as they set out to walk down the 
 
 valley — " because my mother and I are going to Penzance the 
 
 day after to-morrow, and I have a lot of things to get ready." 
 
 " To Penzance ? " said he, with a sudden falling of the 
 
 face. 
 
 " Yes. She has been dreadfully out of sorts lately, and she 
 has sunk into a kind of despondent state. The doctor says 
 she must have a change — a holiday, really, to take her away 
 from the cares of the house — " 
 
 " Why, Wenna, it's you who want the holiday ; it's you who 
 have the cares of the house ! " Trelyon said, warmly. 
 
 " And so I have persuaded her to go to Penzance for a 
 week or two, and I go with her to look after her. Mr. Trel- 
 yon, would you be kind enough to keep Rock for me until 
 we come back ? I am afraid of the servants neglecting him." 
 " You needn't be afraid of that : he's not one of the ill- 
 favored ; every one will attend to him," said Trelyon ; and 
 then he added, after a minute or two of silence, " The fact 
 is, I think. I shall be at Penzance also while you are there. 
 My Cousin Juliott is coming here in about a fortnight, to cel- 
 ebrate the important event of my coming of age, and I promis- 
 ed to go for her. I might as well go now." 
 She said nothing. 
 
 " I might as well go any time," he said, rather impatiently. 
 " I haven't got anything to do. Do you know, before you 
 came along.just now, I was thinking what a very useful person 
 
150 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 you were in the world, and what a very useless person I was 
 — about as useless as this litttle cur. I think somebody 
 should take me up and heave me into a river. And I was 
 wondering, too " — here he became a little more embarrassed 
 and slow of speech — " I was wondering what you would say 
 it I spoke to you, and gave you a hint that sometimes — that 
 sometimes one might wish to cut this lazy life if one only 
 knew how, and whether so very busy a person as yourself 
 mightn't, don't you see, give one some notion — some sort of 
 hint, in fact — " 
 
 " Oh ! but then, Mr. Trelyon," she said, quite cheerfully, 
 " you would think it very strange if I asked you to take any 
 interest in the things that keep me busy. That is not a man's 
 work. I wouldn't accept you as a pupil." 
 
 He burst out laughing. 
 
 " Why," said he, " do you think I offered to mend stockings, 
 and set sums on slates, and coddle babies ? " 
 
 " As for setting sums on slates," she remarked, with a quiet 
 impertinence, " the working of them out might be of use to 
 you." 
 
 " Yes, and a serious trouble, too," he said, candidly. " No, 
 no — that cottage business ain't in my line. I like to have a 
 joke with the old folks or a romp with the children ; but I 
 can.'t go in for cutting out pinafores. I shall leave my mother 
 to do my share of that for me ; and hasn't she come out 
 strong lately, eh ? It's quite a new amusement for her, and 
 it's driven a deal of that organ-grinding stuff out of her head ; 
 and I've a notion some of those parsons — " 
 
 He stopped short, remembering who his companion was: 
 and at this moment they came to a gate which opened out on 
 the highway, through which the small cur was passed to find 
 his way home. 
 
 " Now, Miss Wenna," said the young man — " by the way, 
 you see how I remember to address you respectfully ever 
 since you got sulky with me about it the other day ? " 
 
 " I am sure I did not get sulky with you, and especially 
 about that," she remarked, with much composure. " I sup- 
 pose you are not aware that you have dropped the * Miss ' 
 several times this morning already ? " 
 
 "Did I, really? Well, then, I'm awfully sorry — but then 
 you are so good-natured you tempt one to forget ; and my 
 mother she always calls you Wenna Rosewarne now in 
 speaking to me, as if you were a little school-girl instead of 
 being the chief support and pillar of all the public affairs of 
 Eglosilyan. And now, Miss Wenna, I sha'n't go down the 
 
CONFESSION. 151 
 
 road with you, because my damp boots and garments would 
 gather the dust ; but perhaps you wouldn't mind stopping two 
 seconds here, and I'm going to go a cracker and ask you a 
 question : What should a fellow in my position try to do ? 
 You see, I haven't had the least training for any one of the 
 professions, even if I had any sort of capacity — " 
 
 " But why should you wish to have a profession ? " she 
 said, simply. " You have more money than is good for you 
 already." 
 
 "Then you don't think it ignominious," he said, with his 
 face lighting up considerably, " to fish in summer, and shoot 
 in autumn, and hunt in winter, and make that the only busi- 
 ness of one's life ? " 
 
 "I should, if it were the only business; but it needn't be, 
 and you don't make it so. My father speaks very highly of 
 the way you look after your property ; and he knows what 
 attending to an estate is. And then you have so many op- 
 portunities of being kind and useful to the people about you, 
 that you might do more good that way than by working night 
 and day at a profession. Then you owe much to yourself ; 
 because if every one began with himself, and educated him- 
 self, and became satisfied and happy with doing his best, 
 there would be no bad conduct and wretchedness to call for 
 interference. I don't see why you should be ashamed of 
 shooting and hunting, and all that ; and doing them as well 
 as anybody else, or far better, as I hear people say. I don't 
 think a man is bound to have ambition and try to become 
 famous ; you might be of much greater use in the world even 
 in such a little place as Eglosilyan than if you were in Par- 
 liament. I did say to Mrs. Trelyon that I should like to see 
 you in Parliament, because one has a natural pride in any 
 one that one admired and likes very much — " 
 
 He saw the quick look of fear that sprang to her eyes — 
 not a sudden appearance of shy embarrassment, but of abso- 
 lute fear ; and he was almost as startled by her blunder as 
 she herself was. He hastily came to her rescue. He 
 thanked her in a few rapid and formal words for her patience 
 and advice ; and, as he saw she was trying to turn away and 
 hide the mortification visible on her face, he shook hands with 
 her, and let her go. 
 
 Then he turned. He had been startled, it is true, and 
 grieved to see the pain her chance words had caused her. 
 But now a great glow of delight rose up within him ; and he 
 could have called aloud to the blue skies and the silent 
 woods because of the joy that filled his heart. They were 
 
152 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 chance words, of course. They were uttered with no deliberate 
 intention ; on the contrary, her quick look of pain showed 
 how bitterly she regretted the blunder. Moreover, he con- 
 gratulated himself on his rapid piece of acting, and assured 
 himself that she would believe that he had not noticed that 
 admission of hers. They were idle words. She would for- 
 get them. The incident, so far as she was concerned, was 
 gone. 
 
 But not so far as he was concerned. For now he knew 
 that the person whom, above all other persons in the world, 
 he was most desirous to please, who respects and esteem he 
 was most anxious to obtain, had not only condoned much of 
 his idleness, out of the abundant charity of her heart, but 
 had further, and by chance, revealed to him that she gave 
 him some little share of that affection which she seemed to shed 
 generously and indiscriminately on so many folks and things 
 around her. He, too, was now in the charmed circle. He 
 walked with a new pride through the warm, green meadows, 
 his rod over his shoulder ; he whistled as he went, or he sang 
 snatches of "The Rose of Allandale." He met two small 
 boys out bird's-nesting ; he gave them a shilling apiece, and 
 then inconsistently informed them that if he caught them, 
 then or at any other time, with a bird's nest in their hands, 
 he would cuff their ears. Then he walked hastily home, put 
 by his fishing-rod, and shut himself up in his study with half 
 a dozen of those learned volumes which he had brought back 
 unsoiled from school. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 ON WINGS OF HOPE. 
 
 When Trelyon arrived late one evening at Penzance, he 
 was surprised'to find his uncle's coachman awaiting him at 
 the station. 
 
 " What's the matter, Tobias ? Is the old gentleman going 
 to die ? You don't mean to say you are here for me ? " 
 
 " Yaas, zor, I be," said the little old man, with no great 
 courtesy. 
 
 " Then he is going to die, if he sends out his horse at this 
 time o'night. Look here, Tobias; I'll put my portmanteau 
 inside and come on the box to have a talk with you — you're 
 such a jolly old card, you know — and you'll tell me all that's 
 
ON WINGS OF HOPE. 153 
 
 happened since I last enjoyed my uncle's bountiful hospi- 
 tality." 
 
 This the young man did ; and then the brown-faced, wiry, 
 and surly little person, having started his horse, proceeded to 
 tell his story in a series of grumbling and disconnected sent- 
 ences. He was not nearly so taciturn as he looked. 
 
 " The maaster he went siin to bed to-night — 'twere Miss 
 Juliott sent me to the station, without tellin' en. He's gettin' 
 worse and worse, that's sure ; if yii be for givin' me half a 
 crown, like, or any one that comes to the house, he finds it 
 out and stops it out o' my wages ; yes, he does, zor, the old 
 fule ! " 
 
 " Tobias, be a little more respectful to my uncle, if you 
 please." 
 
 " Why zor, yii knaw en well enough ! " said the man, in the 
 same surly fashion. " And I'll tell yii this, Maaster Harry, 
 if yii be after dinner with en, and he has a bottle o' poort 
 wine that he puts on the mantel-piece, and he says to yii to 
 that aloan, vor 'tis a medicine-zart o' wine, don't yii heed en, 
 but have that wine. 'Tis the real old poort wine, zor, that 
 yiir vather gied en ; the dahmned old Pagan ! " 
 
 The young man burst out laughing, instead of reprimand- 
 ing Tobias, who maintained his sulky impassiveness of face. 
 
 " Why, zor, I be gardener now, too ; yaas, I be, to save the 
 wages. And he's gone clean mazed about that garden ; yes, 
 I think. Would yii believe this, Maaster Harry, that he 
 killed every one o' the blessed strawberries last year with a 
 lot o' wrack from the bache, because he said it wiid be as 
 good for them as for the 'sparagus ? " 
 
 " Well, but the old chap finds amusement in pottering 
 about the garden — " 
 
 "The old fule ! " repeated Tobias, in an undertone. 
 
 " And the theory is sound about the sea-weed and the straw- 
 berries ; just as his old notion of getting a green rose was by 
 pouring sulphate of copper in at the roots." 
 
 " Yaas, that were another pretty thing, Maaster Harry ; and 
 he had the tin labels all printed out in French, and he waited 
 and waited and there bain't a fairly glide rose left in the 
 garden. And his violet glass for the cucumbers — he burned 
 en up to once, although 'twere fine to heark'n talk about the 
 sunlight and the rays, and such nonsenses. He be a strange 
 mahn, zor, and a dahmned close 'n with his penny pieces, 
 Christian and all as he calls hissen. There's Miss Juliott, 
 zor, she's goin' to get married, I suppose ; and when she 
 
154 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 goes no one'll dare speak to 'n. Be yii goin' to stop long 
 this time, Maaster Harry ? " 
 
 " Not at the Hollies, Tobias. I shall go down to the 
 Queen's to-morrow ; I've got rooms there." 
 
 " So much the better ; so much the better," said the frank 
 but enhospitable retainer; and presently the jog-trot old 
 animal between the shafts was pulled up in front of a cer- 
 tain square old-fashioned building of gray stone, which was 
 prettily surrounded with trees. They had arrived at the Rev. 
 Mr. Penaluna's house ; and there was a young lady standing 
 in the light of the hall, she having opened the door very 
 softly as she heard the carriage drive up. 
 
 " So here you are, Harry ; and you'll stay with us the whole 
 fortnight, won't you ? Come into the dining-room — I have 
 some supper ready for you ? Papa's gone to bed, and he de- 
 sired me to give you his excuses, and he hopes you'll make 
 yourself quite at home, as you always do, Harry." 
 
 He did make himself quite at home ; for, having kissed his 
 cousin, and flung his top-coat down in the hall, he went into 
 the dining-room, and took possession of an easy-chair. 
 
 " Sha'n't have any supper, Jue, thank you. You won't mind 
 my lighting a cigar — somebody's been smoking here already. 
 And what's the least poisonous claret you've got ? " 
 
 " Well, I declare ! " she said ; but she got him the wine all 
 the same, and watched him light his cigar ; then she took the 
 easy-chair opposite. 
 
 " Tell us about your young man, Jue," he said. " Girls al- 
 ways like to talk about that." 
 
 " Do they ? " she said. " Not to boys." 
 
 " I shall be twenty-one in a fortnight. I am thinking of 
 getting married." 
 
 " So I hear," she remarked quietly. 
 
 Now he had been talking nonsense at random — mostly in- 
 tent on getting his cigar well lit ; but this little observation 
 rather startled him. 
 
 " What have you heard ? " he said, abruptly. 
 
 " Oh ! nothing — the ordinary stupid gossip," she said, though 
 she was watching him father closely. " Are you going to 
 stay with us for the next fortnight ? " 
 
 " No ; I have got rooms at the Queen's." 
 
 " I thought so. One might have expected you, however, 
 to stay with your relations when you came to Penzance." 
 
 " Oh ; that's all gammon, Jue ; " he said , " you know very 
 well your father doesn't care to have any one stay with you 
 
ON WINGS OF HOPE. 155 
 
 — it's too much bother. You'll have quite enough of me 
 while I am in Penzance." 
 
 " Shall we have anything of you ? " she said, with apparent 
 indifference. " I understood that Miss Rosewarne and her 
 mamma had already come here." 
 
 " And what if they have ? " he said, with unnecessary fierce- 
 ness. 
 
 "Well, Harry," she said, "you needn't get into a temper 
 about it ; but people will talk, you know ; and they say that 
 your attentions to that young lady are rather marked, consid- 
 ering that she is engaged to be married ; and you have in- 
 duced your mother to make a pet of her. Shall I go on ? " 
 
 " No, you needn't," he said, with a strong effort to overcome 
 his anger. " You're quite right — people do talk ; but they 
 wouldn't talk so much if other people didn't carry tales. Why, 
 it isn't like you, Jue. I thought you were another sort. And 
 about this girl of all girls in the world — " 
 
 He got up and began walking about the room, and talking 
 with considerable vehemence, but no more in anger. He 
 would tell her what cause there was for this silly gossip. 
 He would tell her who this girl was v/ho had been lightly men- 
 tioned. And in his blunt, frank, matter-of-fact way, which 
 did not quite conceal his emotion, he revealed to his cousin 
 all that he thought of Wenna Rosewarne, and what he hoped 
 for in the future, and what their present relations were, and 
 then plainly asked her if she could condemn him. Miss Ju- 
 liott was touched. 
 
 " Sit down, Harry ; I have wanted to talk to you, and I don't 
 mean to heed any gossip. Sit down, please — you frighten 
 me by walking up and down like that. Now I'm going to 
 talk common-sense to you, for I should like to be your friend ; 
 and your mother is so easily led away by any sort of senti- 
 ment that she isn't likely to have seen with my eyes. Sup- 
 pose that this Miss Rosewarne — " 
 
 " No ; hold hard a bit, Jue," he said, imperatively. "You 
 may talk till the millennium, but just keep off her, I warn 
 you." 
 
 "Will you hear me out, you silly boy ? Suppose that Miss 
 Rosewarne is everything that you believe her to be. I'm 
 going to grant that, because I'm going to ask you a question. 
 You can't have such an opinion of any girl, and be constantly 
 in her society, and go following her about like this, without 
 falling in love with her. Now, in that case, would you pro- 
 pose to marry her ?" 
 
 " I marry her ! " he said, his face becoming suddenly pale 
 
1 56 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 for a moment. " Jue, you are mad. I am not fit to marry a 
 girl like that. You don't know her. Why — " 
 
 " Let all that alone, Harry ; when a man is in love with a 
 woman he always thinks he's good enough for her; and 
 whether he does or not he tries to get her for a wife. Don't 
 let us discuss your comparative merits — one might even put 
 in a word for you. But suppose you drifted into being 
 in love with her — and I consider that quite probable — and 
 suppose you forgot, as I know you would forget, the differ- 
 ence in your social position, how would you like to go and 
 ask her to break her promise to the gentleman to whom she is 
 engaged ? " ' 
 
 Master Harry laughed aloud, in a somewhat nervous fash- 
 ion. 
 
 " Him ? Look here, Jue ; leave me out of it — I haven't 
 the cheek to talk of myself in that connection ; but if there 
 was a decent sort of fellow whom that girl really took a lik- 
 ing to, do you think he would let that elderly and elegant 
 swell in Jamaica stand in his way ? He would be no such 
 fool, I can tell you. He would consider the girl first of all. 
 He would say to himself, ' I mean to make this girl happy ; 
 if any one interferes, let him look out ! ' Why, Jue. you 
 don't suppose any man would be frightened by that sort of 
 thing ! " 
 
 Miss Juliott did not seem quite convinced by this burst of 
 scornful oratory. She continued quietly — 
 
 " You forget something, Harry. Your heroic young man 
 might find it easy to do something wild — to fight with that 
 gentleman in the West Indies, or murder him, or anything 
 like that, just as you see in a story ; but perhaps Miss Rose- 
 warne might have something to say." 
 
 " I meant if she cared for him," Trelyon said, looking 
 down. 
 
 "Granting that also, do you think it likely your hot-headed 
 gentleman would be able to get a young lady to disgrace her- 
 self by breaking her plighted word, and deceiving a man who 
 went away trusting in her ? You say she has a very tender 
 conscience — that she is so anxious to consult every one's 
 happiness before her own — and all that. Probably it is true. 
 I say nothing against her. But to bring the matter back to 
 yourself — for I believe you're hot-headed enough to do any- 
 thing — what would you think of her if you or anybody else 
 persuaded her to do such a treacherous thing ? " 
 
 " She is not capable of treachery, he said, somewhat 
 Stiffly. " If you've got no more cheerful things to talk about, 
 
LOVE-MAKING AT LAND'S END. 
 
 57 
 
 you'd better go to bed, Tue. I shall finish my cigar bv my- 
 self." * 
 
 " Very well, then, Harry. You know your room. Will 
 you put out the lamp when you have lit your candle ? " 
 
 So she went, and the young man was left alone, in no very 
 enviable frame of mind. He sat and smoked, while the clock 
 on the mantel-piece swung its gilded boy, and struck the 
 hours and half-hours with unheeded regularity. He lit a 
 second cigar, and a third ; he forgot the wine ; it seemed to 
 him that he was looking on all the roads of life that lay be- 
 fore him, and they were lit up by as strange and new a light 
 as that which was beginning to shine over the world outside. 
 New fancies seemed to awake with the new dawn. For him- 
 self to ask Wenna Rosewarne to be his wife ? — could he but 
 win the tender and shy regard of her eyes he would fall at 
 her feet and bathe them with his tears ! And if this wonder- 
 ful thing were possible — if she could put her hand in his and 
 trust to him for safety in all the coming years they might live 
 together — what man of woman born would dare to interfere ? 
 There was a blue light coming in through the shutters. He 
 went to the window — the topmost leaves of the trees were 
 quivering in the cold air, far up there in the clearing skies, 
 where the stars were fading out one by one. And he could 
 hear the sound of the sea on the distant beach ; and he knew 
 that across the gray plain of waters the dawn was breaking, 
 and that over the sleeping world another day was rising that 
 seemed to him the first day of a new and tremulous life, full 
 of joy and courage and hope. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 LOVE-MAKING AT LAND'S END. 
 
 " Are you dreaming again, child ? " said Mrs. Rosewarne 
 to her daughter. ** You are not a fit companion for a sick 
 womap, who is herself dull enough. Why do you always look 
 so sad when you look at the sea, Wenna ? " 
 
 The wan-faced, beautiful-eyed woman lay on a sofa, a book 
 beside her. She had been chatting in a bright, rapid, desul- 
 tory fashion about the book and a dozen other things — 
 amusing herself really by a continual stream of playful talk 
 — until she perceived that the girl's fancies were far away. 
 
158 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 Then she stopped suddenly, with this expression of petulant 
 but good-natured disappointment. 
 
 " Oh, I beg your pardon, mother," said Wenna, who was 
 seated at an open window fronting the bay. " What did you 
 say ? Why does the sea make one sad ? I don't know. 
 One feels less at home here than out on the rocks at Eglosil- 
 yan ; perhaps that is it. Or the place is so beautiful that it 
 almost makes you cry. I don't know." 
 
 And, indeed, Penzance Bay, on this still, clear morning, was 
 beautiful enough to attract wistful eyes and call up vague and 
 distant fancies. The cloudless sky was intensely dark in its 
 blue ; one had a notion that the unseen sun was overhead and 
 shining vertically down. The still plain of water — so clear 
 that the shingle could be seen through it a long way out — had 
 no decisive color ; but the fishing-smacks lying out there were 
 jet-black points in the bewildering glare. The sunlight did 
 not seem to be in the sky, in the air, or on the sea ; but when 
 you turned to the southern arm of the bay, where the low line 
 of green hills runs out into the water, there you could see the 
 strong clear light shining — shining on the green fields and on 
 the sharp black lines of hedges, on that bit of grey old town 
 with its cottage-gardens and its sea-wall, and on the line of 
 dark rock that formed the point of the promontory. On the 
 other side of the bay, the eye followed the curve of the level 
 shore, until it caught sight of St. Michael's Mount rising 
 palely from the water, its sunlit grays and purple shadows 
 softened by the cool distance. Then beyond that again, on 
 the verge of the far horizon, lay the long and narrow line of 
 the Lizard, half lost in a silver haze. For the rest, a cool 
 wind went this way and that through Mrs. Rosewarne's room, 
 stirring the curtains. There was a fresh odor of the sea in 
 the air. It was a day for dreaming, perhaps ; but not for the 
 gloom begotten of languor and an indolent pulse. 
 
 " Oh, mother— oh, mother ! " Wenna cried suddenly, with 
 a flush of color in hei cheeks. " Do you know who is coming 
 along ? Can you see ? It is Mr. Trelyon, and he is looking 
 at all the houses; I know he is looking for us." 
 
 " Child, child ! " said the mother. " How should Mr. Trel- 
 yon know we are here ? " 
 
 " Because I told him," Wenna replied, simply and hur- 
 riedly. " Mother, may I wave a handkerchief to him ? 
 Won't you come and see him ? he seems so much more manly 
 in this strange place ; and how brave and handsome he 
 looks ! " 
 
 " Wenna ! " her mothei said, severely. 
 
L O VE-MA KING A T LAND'S END. 1 59 
 
 The girl did not wave a handkerchief, it is true ; although 
 she knelt down at the open bay window, so that he must needs 
 see her ; and sure enough he did. Off went his hat in a min- 
 ute ; a bright look of recognition leaped to his eyes, and he 
 crossed the street. Then Wenna turned, all in a flutter of de- 
 light, and quite unconscious of the color in her face. 
 
 " Are you vexed, mother ? Mayn't I be glad to see him ? 
 Why, when I know that he will brighten up your spirits bet- 
 ter than a dozen doctors ! One feels quite happy and hope- 
 ful whenever he comes into the rqom. Mother, you won't 
 have to complain of dulness if Mr. Trelyon comes to see you. 
 And why doesn't the girl send him up at once ? " 
 
 Wenna was standing at the open door to receive him when 
 he came up-stairs ; she had wholly forgotten the embarrass- 
 ment of their last parting. 
 
 " I thought I should find you out," he said, when he came 
 into the room, and it was clear that there was little embarrass- 
 ment about him ; " and I know how your mother likes to be 
 teased and worried. You've get a nice place here, Mrs. 
 Rosewarne ; and what splendid weather you've brought with 
 you ! " 
 
 " Yes," said Wenna, her whole face lit up with a shy glad- 
 ness, " haven't we ? And did you ever see the bay looking 
 more beautiful ? It is enough to make you laugh and clap 
 your hands out of mere delight to see everything so lovely 
 and fresh ! " 
 
 " A few minutes ago I thought you were nearly crying over 
 it," said the mother, with a smile ; but Miss Wenna took no 
 heed of the reproof. She would have Mr. Trelyon help him- 
 self to a tumbler of claret-and-water. She fetched out from 
 some mysterious lodging-house recess an ornamented tin can of 
 biscuits. She accused herself of hieing the dullest compan- 
 ion in the world, and indirectly hinted that he might have 
 pity on her mamma and stay to luncheon with them. 
 
 " Well, its very odd," he said, telling a lie with great sim- 
 plicity of purpose, " but I had arranged to drive to the Land's 
 End for luncheon — to the inn there, you know. I suppose it 
 wouldn't — do you think, Mrs. Rosewarne — would it be con- 
 venient for you to come for a drive so far ? " 
 
 " Ohj it would be the very best thing in the world for her 
 — nothing could be better," said Wenna ; and then she added 
 meekly, " if it is not giving you too much trouble, Mr. Trel- 
 yon." 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " Trouble ! I'm glad to be of use to anybody ; and in this 
 
r6o THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 case I shall have all the pleasure on my side. Well, I'm off 
 now to see about the horses. If I come for you in half an hour 
 will that do ? " 
 
 As soon as he had left, Mrs. Rosewarne turned to her 
 daughter, and said to her, gravely enough — 
 
 " Wenna, one has seldom to talk to you about the proprie- 
 ties ; but, really, this seems just a little doubtful. Mr. 
 Trelyon may make a friend of you ; that is all very well, for 
 you are going to marry a friend of his. But you ought not to 
 expect him to associate with me." 
 
 " Mother," said Wenna, with hot cheeks, " I wonder how 
 you can suspect him -of thinking of such foolish and wicked 
 things. Why, he is the very last man in all the world to do 
 anything that was mean and unkind, or to think about it." 
 
 " My dear child, I suspect him of nothing," Mrs. Rose- 
 warne said ; " but look at the simple facts of the case. Mr. 
 Trelyon is a very rich gentleman : his family is an old one, 
 greatly honored about here ; and if he is so recklessly kind 
 as to offer his acquaintanceship to persons who are alto- 
 gether in a different sphere of life, we should take care not 
 to abuse his kindness, or to let people have occasion to won- 
 der at him. Looking at your marriage and future station, it 
 is perhaps more permissible with you ; but as regards myself, 
 I don't very much care, Wenna, to have Mr. Trelyon coming 
 about the house." 
 
 "Why, mother, I — I am surprised at you!" Wenna said, 
 warmly. "You judge of him by the contemptible things 
 that other people might say of him. Do you think he would 
 care for that ? Mr. Trelyon is a man, and like a man he has 
 the courage to choose such friends as he likes ; and it is no 
 more to him what money they have, or what their position is, 
 than the— than the shape of their pocket-handkerchiefs is ! 
 Perhaps that is his folly — recklessness — the recklessness of 
 a young man. Perhaps it is. I am not old enough to know 
 how people alter ; but I hope I shall never see Mr. Trelyon 
 alter in this respect — never, if he were to live for a hundred 
 years. And— and I am surprised to hear you, of all people, 
 mother, suggest such things of him. What has he done that 
 you should think so meanly of him ! " 
 
 Wenna was very indignant and hurt. She would have con- 
 tinued further, but that a tremulous movement of her under 
 lip caused her to turn away her head. 
 
 " Well, Wenna, you needn't cry about it," her mother said, 
 gently. " It is of no great consequence. Of course evey one 
 must please himself in choosing his friends ; and I quite ad- 
 
LOVE-MAKING AT LAND'S END. 161 
 
 mit that Mr. Trelyon is not likely to be hindered by anything 
 that anybody may say. Don't take it so much to heart, child ; 
 go and get on your things, and get back some of the cheer- 
 fulness you had while he was here. I will say that for the 
 young man — that he has an extraordinary power of raising 
 your spirits." 
 
 " You are a good mother after all," said Wenna, penitently ; 
 " and if you come and let me dress you prettily, I shall prom- 
 ise not to scold you again — not till the next time you deserve 
 it." 
 
 By the time they drove away from Penzance the forenoon 
 had softened into more beautiful colors. There was a paler 
 blue in the sky and on the sea, and millions of yellow stars 
 twinkled on the ripples. A faint haze had fallen over the 
 bright green hills lying on the south of the bay. 
 
 " Life looks worth having on such a day as this," Trelyon 
 said ; " doesn't it, Miss Wenna ? " 
 
 She certainly seemed pleased enough. She drank in the 
 sweet fresh air ; she called attention to the pure rare colors 
 of the sea and the green uplands ; the coolness of the woods 
 through which they drove, the profuse abundance of wild 
 flowers along the banks — all things around her seemed to 
 have conspired to yield her delight ; and a great happiness 
 shone in her eyes. Mr. Trelyon talked mostly to Mrs. Rose- 
 warne ; but his eyes rarely wandered away for long from 
 Wenna's pleased and radiant face ; and again and again he 
 said to himself, "And if a simple drive on a spring morning 
 can give this child so great a delight, it is not the last that she 
 and 1 shall have together" 
 
 " Mrs. Rosewarne," said he, " I think your daughter has 
 as much need of a holiday as anybody. I don't believe 
 there's a woman or girl in the country works as hard as she 
 does." 
 
 " I don't know whether she needs it," said Miss Wenna, of 
 herself, " but I know that she enjoys it." 
 
 " I know what you'd enjoy a good deal better than merely 
 getting out of sight of your own door for a week or two," 
 said he. " Wouldn't you like to get clear away from Eng- 
 land for six months, and go wandering about all sorts of fine 
 places ? Why, I could take you such a trip in that time ! I 
 should like to see what you'd say to some of the old Dutch 
 towns and their churches, and all that ; then Cologne, ycu 
 know, and a sail up the Rhine to Mainz ; then you'd go on 
 to Basel and Geneva, and we'd get you a fine big carriage 
 with the horses decorated with foxes' and pheasants' tails, to 
 
1 62 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 drive you to Chamounix. Then, when you had gone tremu- 
 lously over the Mer de Glace, and kept your wits about you 
 going down the Mauvais Pas, I don't think you could do bet- 
 ter than go on to the Italian lakes — you never saw anything 
 like them, I'll be bound — and Naples and Florence. Would 
 you come back by the Tyrol, and have a turn at Zurich and 
 Lucerne, with a ramble through the Black Forest in a trap 
 resembling a ramshackle landau?" 
 
 " Thank you," said Wenna, very cheerfully. " The sketch 
 is delightful ; but I am pretty comfortable where I am." 
 
 "But this can't last," said he. 
 
 " And neither can my holidays," she answered. 
 
 "Oh, but they ought to," he retorted vehemently. "You 
 have not half enough amusement in your life — that's my opin- 
 ion. You slave too much for all those folks about Eglosilyan 
 and their dozens of children. Why, you don't get anything 
 out of life as you ought to. What have you to look forward 
 to ? Only the same ceaseless round of working for other 
 people. Don't you think you might let some one else have a 
 turn at that useful but monotonous occupation ? " 
 
 " But Wenna has something else to look forward to now," 
 her mother reminded him gently ; and after that he did not 
 speak for some time. 
 
 Fair and blue was the sea that shone all around the land 
 when they got out on the rough moorland near the coast. 
 They drove to the solitary little inn perched over the steep 
 cliffs ; and here the horses were put up and luncheon ordered. 
 Would Mrs. Rosewarne venture down to the great rocks at 
 the promontory ? No, she would rather stay indoors till the 
 young people returned ; and so these two went along the 
 grassy path by themselves. 
 
 They clambered clown the slopes, and went out among the 
 huge blocks of weather-worn granite, many of which were 
 brilliant with gray, green, and orange lichens. There was a 
 low and thunderous noise in the air ; far below them, calm 
 and fine as the day was, the summer sea dashed and roared 
 into gigantic caverns, while the white foam floated out again 
 on the troubled waves. Could anything have been more 
 magical than the colors of the sea — its luminous greens, its 
 rich purples, its brilliant blues, lying in long swathes on the 
 apparently motionless surface ? It was only the seething 
 white beneath their feet and the hoaise thunder along the 
 coast that told of the force of this summer-like sea ; for the 
 rest the picture was light and calm and beautiful. Out there 
 the black rocks basked in the sunlight, the big skarts stand 
 
LOVE-MAKING AT LAND'S END. 163 
 
 ing on their ledges, not moving a feather. A small steamer 
 was slowly making for the island farther out, where a light- 
 house stood. And far away beyond these, on the remote 
 horizon, the Scilly Isles lay like a low bank of yellow fog, 
 under the pale blue skies. 
 
 They were very much by themselves, out here at the end 
 of the woild ; and yet they did not seem inclined to talk 
 much. Wenna sat down on the warm grass ; her companion 
 perched himself on one of the blocks of granite; they 
 watched the great undulations of the blue water rolling on 
 the black rocks, and then falling backward seething in foam. 
 
 " And what are you thinking about ? " said Trelycn to her 
 gently, so that she should not be startled. 
 
 "Of nothing at all — I am quite happy," Wenna said 
 frankly. Then she added, "I suppose the worst of a day 
 like this is that a long time after you look back upon it, and 
 it seems so beautiful and far away that it makes you misera- 
 ble. You think how happy you were once. That is the un- 
 fortunate side of being happy." 
 
 " Well," said he, " I must say you don't look forward to 
 the future with any great hope, if you think the recollection 
 of one bright day will make you wretched." 
 
 He came down from his perch and stood beside her. 
 
 " Why, Wenna," said he, " do you know what you really 
 need ? Some one to take you in hand thoroughly, and give 
 you such an abundance of cheerful and pleasant days that 
 you would never think of singling out any one of them. 
 Why shouldn't you have weeks and months of happy idling 
 in bright weather, such as lots of people have who don't de- 
 serve them a bit ? There's something wrong in your position. 
 You want some one to become your master, and compel you 
 to make yourself happy. You won't of yourself study your 
 own comfort ; some one else ought to make you." 
 
 " And who do you think would care to take so much 
 trouble about me ? " she said, with a smile ; for she attached 
 no serious meaning to this random talk. 
 
 Her companion's face flushed somewhat, not with embar- 
 rassment, but with the courage of what he was going to say. 
 
 " I would," he said, boldly. " You will say it is none of 
 my business ; but I tell you I would give twenty thousand 
 pounds to-morrow if I were allowed, to — to get you a whole 
 summer of pleasant holidays." 
 
 There was something about the plain-spoken honesty cf 
 this avowal that touched her keenly. Wild and impossible 
 as the suggestion was, it told her at least what one person in 
 
1 64 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 the world thought of her. She said to him, with her eyes 
 cast down — 
 
 " I like to hear you speak like that — not for my own sake 
 — but I know there is nothing generous and kindly that you 
 wouldn't do at a mere moment's impulse. But I hope you 
 don't think I have been grumbling over my lot, on such a 
 day as this ? Oh no ; I see too much of other people's ways 
 of living to complain of my own. I have every reason to be 
 contented and happy." 
 
 "Yes, you're a deal too contented and happy," said he, 
 with an impatient shrug. " You want somebody to alter all 
 that, and see that you get more to be contented and happy 
 about." 
 
 She rose ; he gave her his hand to help her up. But he 
 did not surrender her hand then, for the path up the slopes 
 was a steep and difficult one ; and she could fairly rely on 
 his strength and sureness of foot. 
 
 " But you are not content, Mr. Trelyon," she said. " I 
 always notice that whenever you get to a dangerous place 
 you are never satisfied unless you are putting your life in 
 peril. Wouldn't ycu like to ride your black horse down the 
 face of this precipice ? Or wouldn't you like to clamber 
 down blindfold ? Why does a man generally seem to be 
 anxious to get rid of his life ? " 
 
 " Perhaps it isn't of much use to him," he said, coolly. 
 
 "You ought not to say that," she answered, in a low voice. 
 
 " Well," he said, " I don't mean to break my neck yet 
 awhile ; but if I did, who would miss me ? I suppose my 
 mother would play half a dozen a day more operas or ora- 
 torios, or stuff of that sort, and there would be twenty 
 parsons in the house for one there is at present. And some 
 of the brats about the place would miss an occasional six- 
 pence — which would be better for their health. And Dick — 
 I suppose they'd sell him to some fool of a Londoner, who 
 would pound his knees out in the Park — he would miss me 
 too." 
 
 "And these are all," she said, "who would miss you? 
 You are kind to your friends." 
 
 " Why, would you ? " he said, with a stare of surprise ; and 
 then, seeing she would not speak, he continued with a laugh, 
 " I like the notion of my making an object of general com- 
 passion of myself. Did the poor dear tumble off a rock into 
 the sea ? And where was its mother's apron-string? I'm 
 not going to break my neck yet awhile, Miss Wenna ; so 
 
L O VE-MA KING AT LA ND'S END. 1 65 
 
 don't you think I'm going to let you off your promise to pay 
 me back for those sewing-machines." 
 
 " I have told you, Mr. Trelyon," she said, with some dig- 
 nity, " that we shall pay you back every farthing of the price 
 of them." 
 
 He began to whistle in an impertinent manner. He 
 clearly placed no great faith in the financial prospects of 
 that Sewing Club. 
 
 They had some light luncheon in the remote little inn, and 
 Mrs. Rosewarne was pleased to see her ordinarily demure 
 and preoccupied daughter in such high and careless spirits. 
 It was not a splendid banquet. Nor was the chamber a 
 gorgeous one, for the absence of ornament and the enor- 
 mous thickness of the walls told of the house being shut up 
 in the winter months and abandoned to the fury of the 
 western gales, when the wild sea came hurling up the face 
 of these steep cliffs and blowing over the land. But they 
 paid little attention to any lack of luxury. There was a 
 beautiful blue sea shining in the distance, the sunlight was 
 falling hotly on the greensward of the rocks outside, and a 
 fresh, cool breeze came blowing in at the open window. 
 They let the time pass easily, with pleasant talk and laugh- 
 ter. 
 
 Then they drove leisurely back in the afternoon. They 
 passed along the moorland ways, through rude little villages 
 built of stone, and by the outskirts of level and cheerless 
 farms, until they got into the beautiful woods and avenues 
 lying around Penzance. When they came in sight of the 
 broad bay, they found that the world had changed its colors 
 since the morning. The sea was of a cold purplish gray ; 
 but all around it, on the eastern horizon, there was a band of 
 pale pink in the sky. On the west, again, behind Penzance, 
 the warm hues of the sunset were shining behind the black 
 stems of the trees. The broad thoroughfare was mostly in 
 shadow ; and the sea was so still that one could hear the 
 footsteps and the voices of the people walking up and down 
 the Parade. 
 
 " I suppose I must go now," said the young gentleman, 
 when he had seen them safely seated in the small parlor over- 
 looking the bay. But he did not seem anxious to go. 
 
 " But why go ? " Wenna said, rather timidly. " You have 
 no engagement, Mr. Trelyon. Would you care to stay and 
 have dinner with us — such a dinner as we can give you I " 
 
 " Well, to tell you the truth, I should like it very much," he 
 said. 
 
1 66 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 Mrs. Rosewarne, a little surprised, and yet glad to see 
 Wenna enjoying herself, regarded the whole affair with a 
 gentle resignation. Wenna had the gas lighted, and the blinds 
 let down ; then, as the evening was rather cold, she had soon 
 a bright fire burning in the grate. She helped to lay the table. 
 She produced such wines as they had. She made sundry 
 visits to the kitchen ; and at length the banquet was ready. 
 
 What ailed the young man ? He seemed beside himself 
 w r ith careless and audacious mirth ; and he made Mrs. Rose- 
 warne laugh as she had not laughed for years. It was in vain 
 that Wenna assumed airs to rebuke his rudeness. Nothing 
 was sacred from his impertinence — not even the offended 
 majesty of her face. And at last she gave in too, and could 
 only revenge herself by saying things of him which, the more 
 severe they were, the more he seemed to enjoy. But after 
 dinner she went to the small piano, while her mother took a 
 big easy-chair near the fire ; and he sat by the table, appar- 
 ently looking over some books. There was no more reck- 
 less laughter then. 
 
 In ancient times — that is to say, in the half-forgotten days 
 of our youth — a species of song existed which exists no more. 
 It was not as the mournful ballads of these days, which seem 
 to record the gloomy utterances of a strange young woman 
 who has apparently wandered into the magic scene " Der 
 Freischiitz," and who mixes up the moanings of her passion 
 with descriptions of the sights and sounds she there finds 
 around her. It was of quite another stamp. It dealt with a 
 phraseology of sentiment peculiar to itself — a " patter," as it 
 were, which came to be universally recognized in drawing- 
 rooms. It spoke of maidens plighting their troth, of Phyllis 
 enchanting her lover with her varied moods, of marble halls 
 in which true love still remained the same. It apostrophized 
 the shells of ocean ; it tenderly described the three great cri- 
 ses of a particular heroine's life by mentioning successive 
 head-dresses ; it told of how the lover of Pretty Jane would 
 have her meet him in the evening. Well, all the world was 
 content to accept this conventional phraseology ; and, behind 
 the paraphernalia of "enchanted moonbeams " and "fondest 
 glances " and " adoring sighs," perceived and loved the senti- 
 ment that could find no simpler utterance. Some of us, hear- 
 ing the half-forgotten songs again, suddenly forget the odd 
 language, and the old pathos springs up again, as fresh as in 
 the days when our first love had just come home from her 
 boarding-school ; while others, who have no old-standing 
 acquaintance with these memorable songs, have somehow got 
 
LOVE-MAKING A T LAND'S END. 167 
 
 attracted to them by the mere quaintness of their speech and 
 the simplicity of their airs. Master Harry Trelyon was no 
 great critic of music. When Wenna Rosewarne sang that night 
 " She wore a wreath of roses," he fancied he had never list- 
 ened to anything so pathetic. When she sang " Meet me by 
 moonlight alone," he was delighted with the spirit and half- 
 humorous, half-tender grace of the composition. As she sang 
 " When other lips and other eyes," it seemed to him that there 
 were no songs like the old-fashioned songs, and that the 
 people who wrote those ballads were more frank and simple 
 and touching in their speech than writers nowadays. Some- 
 how, he began to think of the drawing-rooms of a former gen- 
 eration ; and of the pictures of herself his grandmother had 
 drawn for him many a time. Had she a high waist to that 
 white silk dress in which she ran away to Gretna ; and did 
 she have ostrich feathers on her head ? Anyhow, he entirely 
 believed what she had told him of the men of that generation. 
 They were capable of doing daring things for the sake of a 
 sweetheart. Of course his grandfather had done boldly and 
 well in whirling the girl off to the Scottish borders : for who 
 could tell what might have befallen her among ill-natured rela- 
 tives and persecuted suitors ? 
 
 Wenna Rosewarne was singing "We met, 'twas in a crowd, 
 and I thought he would shun me." It is the song of a girl 
 (must one explain so much in these later clays ?) who is in 
 love with one man, and has been induced to marry another : 
 she meets the former, and her heart is filled with shame and 
 anguish and remorse. As Wenna sang the song, it seemed 
 to this young man that there was an unusual pathos in her 
 voice ; and he was so carried away by the earnestness of her 
 singing that his heart swelled and rose up within him, and 
 he felt himself ready to declare that such should not be her 
 fate. This man who was coming back to marry her — was 
 there no one ready to meet him and challenge his atrocious 
 claim ? Then the song ended : and, with a sudden disap- 
 pointment, Trelyon recollected that he at least had no busi- 
 ness to interfere. What right had he to think of saving her ? 
 
 He had been idly turning over some volumes on the table. 
 At last he came tc a Prayer-book, of considerable size and 
 elegance of binding. Carelessly looking at the fly-leaf, he saw 
 that it was a present to Wenna Rosewarne, " with the very 
 dearest love of her sister Mabyn." He passed his hand over 
 the leaves, not noticing what he was doing ; suddenly he saw 
 something which effectually startled him into attention. 
 
 It was a sheet ot paper with two slits cut into it at top and 
 
1 68 THREE EEA THERS. 
 
 bottom. In these a carefully pressed piece of None-so-pretty 
 had been placed, and just underneath the flower was written 
 in pencil, " From H. T. to W. R., May 2d, 18—." He shut 
 the book quickly, as if his ringers had been burned ; and then 
 he sat quite silent, with his heart beating fast. 
 
 So she had kept the flower he had put in the basket of prim- 
 roses. It had carried its message ; and she still remained 
 his friend. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE CUT DIRECT. 
 
 " Well, mother," Miss Wenna said deliberately, after he 
 had gone, " I never did see you so thoroughly enjoy a whole 
 day." 
 
 " I was thinking the same about you, Wenna," the mother 
 answered, with an amused look. 
 
 " That is true enough, mother," the girl confessed, in her 
 simple way. " He is so good-natured, so full of spirits, and 
 careless, that one gets quite as careless and happy as himself. 
 It is a great comfort, mother, to be with anybody who doesn't 
 watch the meaning of every word you say — don't you think so ? 
 And I hope I wasn't rude — do you think I was rude ? " 
 
 " Why, child, I don't think you could be rude to a fox that 
 was eating your chickens. You would ask him to take a chair 
 and not hurry himself." 
 
 "Well, I must write to Mabyn now," Wenna said, with a 
 business-like air, " and thank her for posting me this Prayer- 
 book. I suppose she didn't know I had my small one with 
 me." 
 
 She took up the book, for she was sitting on the chair that 
 Harry Trelyon had just vacated. She had no sooner done so 
 than she caught sight of the sheet of paper with the dried 
 flower and the inscription in Mabyn's handwriting. She 
 stared, with something of a look of fear on her face. 
 
 " Mother," she said, in quite an altered voice, "did you no- 
 tice if Mr. Trelyon was looking at this Prayer-book ? " 
 
 " I don't know, I'm sure," Mrs. Rosewarne said. " I should 
 think he went over every book on the table." 
 
 The girl said nothing ; but she took the book in her hand 
 and carried it up to her own room. She stood for a moment 
 irresolute ; then she took the sheet of paper with the flowers 
 
THE CUT DIRECT. 169 
 
 on it, and tore it in a hundred pieces, and threw them into the 
 empty grate. Then she cried a little — as a girl must ; and 
 finally went down again and wrote a letter to Mabyn which 
 rather astonished that young lady : 
 
 " My dear Mabyn " — so the letter ran — " I am exceed- 
 ingly angry with you. I did not think you were capable of 
 such folly — I might call it by a worse name if I thought you 
 really meant what you seem to mean. I have just torn up the 
 worthless scrap of flower you so carefully preserved for me into 
 a thousand pieces ; but you will be glad to know that in all 
 probability Mr. Trelyon saw it on the paper, and the initials, 
 too, which you put there. I cannot tell you how pained and 
 angry I am. If he did place that flower intentionally among 
 the primroses, it was most impertinent of him ; but he is 
 often impertinent in joking. What must he think of me 
 that I should seem to have taken this seriously, and treas- 
 ured up that miserable and horrid piece of weed, and put 
 his initials below it, and the important date ? You put 
 thoughts into my head that cover me with shame. I should 
 not be fit to live if I were what you take me to be ? If I 
 thought there was another human being in the world who could 
 imagine or suspect what you apparently desire, I would resolve 
 this moment never to see Mr. Trelyon again ; and much harm 
 that would do either him or me ! But I am too proud to 
 think that any one could imagine such a thing. Nor did I 
 expect that to come from my own sister, who ought to know 
 what my true relations are with regard to Mr. Trelyon. I like 
 him very much, as I told him to his face two days before we 
 left Eglosilyan, and that will show you what our relations are. 
 I think he is very frank, generous, and good young man, and 
 a clever and cheerful companion ; and my mother has to-day 
 to thank him for about the pleasantest little trip she has ever 
 enjoyed. But as for your wishing me to preserve a flower 
 that he sent, or that you think he sent to me, why, I feel my 
 face burning at the thought of what you suggest. And what 
 can I say to him now, supposing he has seen it ? Can I tell 
 him that my own sister thought such things of me ? Perhaps, 
 after all, the simplest way to set matters right will be for me 
 to break off the acquaintance altogether ; and that will 
 show him whether I was likely to have treasured up a scrap 
 of London-pride in my Prayer-book. 
 
 " I am, your loving sister, 
 
 "Wenna Rosewarne." 
 
170 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 Meanwhile, Harry Trelyon was walking up and down the 
 almost empty thoroughfare by the side of the sea ; the stars 
 overhead shining clearly in the dark night, the dimly seen 
 waves falling monotonously on the shelving beach. 
 
 " To keep a flower, that is nothing," he was saying to him- 
 self. "All girls do that, no matter who gives it to them. I 
 suppose she has lots more, all with the proper initials and 
 date attached." 
 
 It was not an agreeable reflection; he turned to other 
 matters. 
 
 " If she were to care for me a little bit, would it be mean 
 of me to try to carry her off from that man ? Is it possible 
 that he has the same regard for her that I have ? In that 
 case it would be mean. Now, when I think of her, the 
 whole world seems filled with her presence somehow, and 
 everything is changed. When I hear the sea in the morning, 
 I think of her, and wonder where she is ; when I see a fine 
 day, I hope she is enjoying it somewhere ; the whole of Pen- 
 zance has become magical. It is no longer the same town. 
 I used to come to it, and never see it, in the old days, when 
 one was busy about stables and the pilchard-fishing and the 
 reports of the mines. Now the whole of Penzance has got a 
 sort of charm in it, since Wenna Rosewarne has come to it. 
 I look "at the houses, and wonder if the people inside know 
 anybody fit to compare with her ; and one becomes grateful 
 to the good weather for shining round about her and making 
 her happy. I suppose the weather knows what she deserves." 
 
 Then he began to argue the question as to whether it 
 would be fair and honorable to seek to take away from an- 
 other man the woman who had pledged herself to marry him ; 
 and of course an easy and definite decision is sure to be 
 arrived at when counsel on both sides, and jury, and judges 
 sitting in banco, are all one person, who conducts and closes 
 the case as it suits himself. 
 
 He began by assuming such facts as suited his arguments, 
 and ended by selecting and confirming such arguments as 
 suited himself. Wenna Rosewarne cared nothing for Mr. 
 Roscorla. She would be miserable if she married him ; her 
 own sister was continually hinting as much. Mr. Roscorla 
 cared nothing for her except in so far as she might prove a 
 pretty housewife for him. The selfishness that would sacri- 
 fice for its own purposes a girl's happiness was of a peculiar- 
 ly despicable sort which ought to be combated, and deserved 
 no mercy. Therefore, and because of all these things, Harry 
 Trelyon was justified in trying to win Wenna Rosewarne's 
 
THE CUT DIRECT. 171 
 
 love. One by one the people who had been strolling up and 
 down the dark thoroughfare left it; he was almost alone 
 now. He walked along to the house in which the Rose- 
 warnes were. There was no light in any of the windows. 
 But might she not be sitting up there by herself, looking out 
 on the starlit heavens and listening to the waves ? He 
 wished to be able to say good-night to her once more. 
 
 How soon would she be up and out on the morrow ? 
 Early in the morning, when the young day was rising over 
 the gray sea, and the sea-winds coming freshly in as if they 
 were returning from the cold night ? If he could but see her 
 at daybreak, with all the world asleep around them, and with 
 only themselves to watch the growing wonders of the dawn, 
 might not he say something to her then that she would not 
 be vexed to hear, and persuade her that a new sort of life 
 lay before her if she would only enter it along with him ? 
 That was the notion that he continually dwelt on for self- 
 justification, when he happened to take the trouble to justify 
 himself. The crisis of this girl's life was approaching. 
 Other errors might be retrieved ; that one, once committed, 
 never. If he could only see her now, this is what he would 
 say : " We can 'only live but once, We?ina ; and this for us two 
 would be life — our only chance of it. Whatever else may hap- 
 pen, that is 110 viatter ; let us make sure of this one chance, and 
 face the future together, you fill of sweetness and trust, I hav- 
 ing plenty of courage for both. We will treat objectors and ob- 
 jections as they may arise — afterwards ; perhaps they will be 
 prudent and keep out of our way." And, indeed, he con- 
 vinced himself that this was Wenna Rosewarne's one chance 
 of securing happiness for her life, assuming, in a way, that 
 he had love, as well as courage, sufficient for both. 
 
 He was early up next morning, and down on the prome- 
 nade ; but the day was not likely to tempt Wenna to come 
 out just then. A gray fog hung over land and sea ; the sea 
 itself being a dull, leaden plain. Trelyon walked about, 
 however, talking to everybody, as was his custom ; and every- 
 body said the fog would clear and a fine day follow. 
 This, in fact, happened ; and still Wenna did not make her 
 appearance. The fog over the sea seemed to separate itself 
 into clouds; there was a dim, yellow light in the breaks. 
 These breaks widened ; there was a glimmer of blue. Then 
 on the leaden plain a glare of white light fell, twinkling in 
 innumerable stars on the water. Everything promised a 
 clear, bright day. 
 
 As a last resource, he thought he would go and get Juliott 
 
172 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 Penaluna, and persuade that young lady to come and be 
 introduced to the Rosewarnes. At first Miss Penaluna 
 refused point-blank. She asked him how he could expect 
 her to do such a thing. But then her Cousin Harry happened 
 to be civil, and indeed kind in his manner to her ; and when 
 he was in one of those moods there was nothing she could 
 refuse him. She went and got ready with an air of resigna- 
 tion on her comely face. 
 
 " Mind, Harry, I am not responsible," she said, when she 
 came back. " I am afraid I shall get into awful trouble 
 about it." 
 
 "And who will interfere ? " said the young man, just as if 
 he were looking about for some one anxious to be thrown 
 from the top of the tower on St. Michael's Mount. 
 
 " I shall be accused of conniving, you know ; and I think 
 I am very good-natured to do so much for you, Harry.''' 
 
 " I think you are, Jue ; you are a thoroughly good sort of 
 girl when you like to be — that's a fact. And now you will see 
 whether what I have said about Miss Rosewarne is all 
 gammon or not." 
 
 " My poor boy, I wouldn't say a word against her for the 
 world. Do I want my head wrenched off ? But if any one 
 says anything to me about what I may do to day, I shall 
 have to tell the truth ; and do you know what that is, Harry ? 
 I do really believe you are in love with that girl, past all 
 argument ; and there never was one of your family who would 
 listen to reason. I know quite well what you will do. If 
 she cares ever so little for you, you will marry her in spite of 
 everybody, and probably against her own wish ; if she doesn't 
 care for you, you will revenge yourself on the happy man of 
 her choice, and probably murder him. Well, it isn't my fault. 
 I know what your mother will say — " 
 
 " Ah, you don't know, Jue, what my mother thinks of her," 
 he said confidently. 
 
 " Oh yes ; mothers think very well of a girl until they dis- 
 cover that she is going to marry their son." 
 
 " Oh, stuff ! why, the inconsistency — " 
 
 " It is the privilege of women to be inconsistent, Harry. 
 Your mother will detest that girl if you try to marry her." 
 
 " I don't care." 
 
 " Of course not. No man of your family cares for any- 
 thing that interferes with his own wishes. I suppose there's 
 no use in my trying to show you what a fearful amount of 
 annoyance and trouble you are preparing for yourself ? " 
 
 " None ; I'll take it as it comes — I'm not afraid." 
 
THE CUT DIRECT. 
 
 *73 
 
 They got down to the promenade ; the forenoon was now 
 bright and cheerful ; a good many folks had come out to 
 enjoy the sunlight and the cool sea-breeze. Miss Juliott was 
 not at all disinclined to walk there with her handsome cousin, 
 though he had forgotten his gloves, and was clearly not pay- 
 ing her very special attention. 
 
 " Jue," he said, suddenly, " I can see Miss Rosewarne — 
 right at the end of this road — can't you ? " 
 
 " I haven't got the eyes of a hawk, you stupid boy," his 
 cousin said. 
 
 " Oh, but I can recognize her dress a dozen times as far 
 away. These are her pet colors at present — a soft cream- 
 color and black, with bits of dark red — can you see now ? " 
 
 " I never before saw you pay the least attention to a lady's 
 dress." 
 
 " Because you don't know how she dresses," he said, 
 proudly. 
 
 She was coming along the parade, all alone. • 
 
 "Well, it is a pretty dress," Miss Juliott said, "and I 
 like the look of her face, Harry. You can't expect one 
 girl to say any more than that of another girl, can you ? " 
 
 " This is a very nice way of being able to introduce you," 
 he said. " I suppose you will be able to chaperon each other 
 afterwards, when her mother can't go out ? " 
 
 Wenna was coming quietly along, apparently rather pre- 
 occupied. Sometimes she looked out, with her dark, earnest, 
 and yet wistful eyes, at the great plain of water quivering in 
 the sunshine ; she paid little heed to the people who went 
 by. When, at length, she did see Harry Trelyon, she was 
 quite near him, and she had just time to glance for a moment 
 at his companion. The next moment — he could not tell how 
 it all happened — she passed him with a slight bow of recog- 
 nition, courteous enough, but nothing more. There was no 
 especial look of friendliness in her eyes. 
 
 He stood there, rather bewildered. 
 
 " That is as good as the cut direct, Harry," his cousin said. 
 " Come along — don't stand there." 
 
 " Oh, but there's some mistake, Jue," he said. 
 
 " A girl never does a thing of that sort by mistake. Either 
 she is vexed with you for walking with me — and that is im- 
 probable, for I doubt whether she saw me — or she thinks 
 the ardor of your acquaintance should be moderated, and 
 there I should agree with her. You don't seem so vexed as 
 one might have expected, Harry." 
 
i 74 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " Vexed ! " he said. " Why, can't you tell by that girl's 
 face that she could do nothing capricious or unkind ? Of 
 course she has a reason ; and I will find it out." 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 NOT THE LAST WORD. 
 
 As soon as he could decently leave his cousin at home, he 
 did ; and then he walked hastily down to the house in which 
 Mrs. Rosewarne had taken rooms. Miss Rosewarne was 
 not at home, the small maid-servant said. Was Mrs. Rose- 
 warne ? Yes ; so he would see her. 
 
 He went up-stairs, never thinking how his deep trouble 
 about so insignificant an incident would strike a third per- 
 son. 
 
 " Mrs. Rosewarne," he said, right out, " I want you to tell 
 me if Wenna wishes our acquaintance to end. Has she been 
 speaking to you ? Just now she passed me in the street as if 
 she did not wish to see me again." 
 
 " Probably," replied Mrs. Rosewarne, amused as well as 
 surprised by the young man's impetuosity, " she did not see 
 you, then. Wenna often passes people so. Most likely she 
 was thinking about other things ; for she had another letter 
 from Jamaica just before she went out." 
 
 " Oh, she has had another letter from Jamaica this morn- 
 ing ! " Trelyon said, with an angry light appearing in his 
 eyes. " That is it, is it ? " 
 
 " I don't understand you," Mrs. Rosewarne was saying, 
 when both of them heard Wenna enter below. 
 
 " Mrs. Rosewarne," he said, with a sudden entreaty in his 
 voice, " would you mind letting me see Wenna alone for a 
 couple of minutes ? I want to ask her if she is offended with 
 me — -you won't mind, will you ? " 
 
 " Not in the least," she said, good-naturedly ; and then 
 she added, at the door, " Mind, Mr. Trelyon, Wenna is 
 easily hurt. You must speak gently to her." 
 
 About a minute afterward, Wenna, having laid her hat and 
 shawl aside, came into the room. When she found Trelyon 
 there, alone, she almost shrank back, and her face paled 
 somewhat ; then she forced herself to go forward and shake 
 hands with him, though her face still wore a frightened and 
 constrained look. 
 
NOT THE LAST WORD. 
 
 175 
 
 "Werma," he said, "don't go away. I want to speak to 
 you for a minute. You are offended with me about something, 
 and I want you to tell me why. If you wish our friendship 
 to cease, say so, and I will obey you ; but you must tell me 
 why first." 
 
 " I am not offended with you, Mr. Trelyon," she said, in a 
 low and nervous voice. " Do not think that. But — but I 
 think it will be better if you will let our friendship cease, as 
 you say." 
 
 For a second he stared : then something of firmness came 
 about his mouth. 
 
 "Oh no," he said, " I will not, in this fashion. You've 
 got to tell me what is the matter first. Now remember this. 
 Not very long ago you chose to quarrel with me about 
 nothing — absolutely about nothing. You know quite well 
 that I meant no harm to you by lending Mr. Roscorla that 
 money ; yet you must needs flare up and give it to me as hot 
 as you could, all for nothing What could I do ? Why, only 
 wait until you saw what a mistake you had made." 
 
 " It was very wrong of me," she said. " I ask your for- 
 giveness. But now it is quite different. I am not angry 
 with you at all. I should like to remain your friend; and 
 yet I think it better not. I — I cannot explain to you, Mr. 
 Trelyon ; and I am sure you won't ask me, when I say so." 
 
 He looked at her for a moment, and then he said, gently 
 and yet firmly — 
 
 " Look here, Wenna. You think I am only a boy. That 
 may or may not be ; but I am going to talk reasonably to 
 you for once. Come over to this chair by the window, and 
 sit down." 
 
 She followed him in passive obedience. She took the one 
 chair, he the other. 
 
 " Perhaps I am only a boy," he said ; " but I have 
 knocked about a good deal, and I have kept my eyes as wide 
 open as most folks. I suppose ill-natured people might say 
 that, as I had nothing to do at Eglosilyan, I wanted to have 
 a flirtation with the only girl who was handy. I know better. 
 Year after year I saw more and more of you, bit by bit ; and 
 that after I had been abroad or living in other places in Eng- 
 land from time to time. I got to believe that I had never 
 seen anywhere any girl or woman who was so honest as you 
 are, and good in a dozen secret ways that needed a deal of 
 discovering. I found out far more about you than you im- 
 agined. I heard of you in cottages that you never knew I 
 was in : and everything I heard made me respect you more 
 
1 76 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 and more. Mind this, too. I had no sort of personal liking 
 for the sort of thing you were doing. I don't admire muggy 
 little rooms, and poverty and sick people, as appealing to a 
 fine sentiment. There never was anything of the parson or of 
 the benevolent old lady about me. I would rather give half 
 a crown to an impertinent little school-boy who had just 
 whopped another boy bigger than himself than give a half- 
 penny tract to a sickly infant in its mother's arms ; that's 
 original sin in me, I suppose. But all that squalid sort of 
 work you were in only made the jewel shine the more. I 
 used to think I should like to marry a very grand woman, 
 who could be presented at Court without a tremor, who would 
 come into a drawing-room as if she were conferring a favor 
 on the world at large ; and I certainly never thought I should 
 find the best woman I had ever seen in back-kitchens sew- 
 ing pinafores for children. And then, when 1 found her 
 there, wasn't it natural I should put some store by her 
 friendship ? I suppose you didn't know what I thought of 
 you, Wenna, because I kept chaffing you and 'Mabyn ? I 
 have told you something of it now ; and now I want you to 
 say whether you have a right to shunt me off like this with- 
 out a word of explanation." 
 
 She sat quite still, silent and nervous. The rude and im- 
 petuous eloquence of his speech, broken by many a hesita- 
 ting stammer had touched her. There was more thoughtful- 
 ness and tenderness in this wild lad than she had supposed. 
 
 " How can I explain ? " she burst out, suddenly. tk I 
 should cover myself with shame ! " 
 
 " And what have you to be ashamed of ? " he said, with a 
 stare. 
 
 The distress she was obviously suffering was so great that 
 he had almost a mind to take her at her word, and leave the 
 house without further ado. Just at this moment, when he 
 was considering what would be the most generous tiling to 
 do, she seemed to nerve herself to speak to him, and in a 
 low and measured voice she said — 
 
 "Yes, I will tell you. I have had a letter this morning 
 from Mr. Roscorla. He asks me if it is true that you are 
 paying me such attention that people notice it ; and he asks 
 me if that is how I keep my promise to him." 
 
 Something like a quiver of rage passed through the young 
 man at this moment, but his teeth were kept firmly together. 
 She did not look up to his face. 
 
 " That is not all. I must tell you that I was deeply shocked 
 and grieved by this letter ; but on looking back over the past 
 
NOT THE LAST WORD 177 
 
 six weeks I think a suspicious person might have been justi- 
 fied in complaining to Mr. Roscorla. And — and — and, Mr. 
 Trelyon, did you see that dried flower in my Prayer-book 
 last night ? " 
 
 Her resolution was fast ebbing away ; he could see that 
 her hands were clasped piteously together. 
 
 " Yes, I did," he said, boldly. 
 
 " And oh ! what could you have thought of me ! " she cried, 
 in her distress. " Indeed, Mr. Trelyon, it was all a mistake. 
 I did not keep the flower — I did not, indeed. And when I 
 thought you had seen it, I could have died for shame." 
 
 " And why ? " he said, in a way that made her lift up her 
 startled eyes to his face. There was a strange look there, 
 as of a man who had suddenly resolved to dare his fate. 
 " For you have been frank with me, and so will I be with you. 
 Why should you not have kept that flower ? Yes, I sent it to 
 you ; and with all the purpose that such a thing could carry. 
 Yes, you may be as angry as you please ; only listen, Wenna. 
 You don't love that man whom you are engaged to marry ; 
 you know in your heart that you do not believe in his love 
 for you ; and are you surprised that people should wish to 
 have you break off an engagement that will only bring you 
 misery ? " 
 
 " Mr. Trelyon ! " 
 
 ' ; Wenna, one minute — you must hear me. Do with my 
 offer what you like — only here it is ; give me the power to 
 break off this engagement, and I will. Give me the right to 
 do that ! Don't mind me in the matter. It is true I love you 
 — there, I will say it again : there is nothing I think of from 
 morning till night but my love for you ; and if you would say 
 that some time I might ask you to be my wife, you would 
 give me more happiness than you could dream of. But I 
 don't wish that now. I will remain your friend, if you like, 
 Wenna ; only let me do this thing for you ; and when you are 
 free, you can then say Yes or No." 
 
 She rose, not proud and indignant, but weeping bitterly. 
 
 "I have deserved this," she said, apparently overwhelmed 
 with mortification and self-reproach. " I have earned this 
 shame, and I must bear it. I do not blame you, Mr. Trelyon 
 — it is I who have done this. How many weeks is it since 
 the man left England to whom I promised to be faithful ? 
 and already — but this I can do, Mr. Trelyon : I will bid you 
 good-bye now, and I will never see you again." 
 
 Her face was quite pale. She held out her hand. 
 
 '* No,'' he said firmly. " We do not part like that, Wenna. 
 
I ;8 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 First, let me say that you have nothing to accuse yourself of. 
 You have done nothing, and said nothing, of which any man, 
 however mean and suspicious, could complain. Perhaps I 
 was too hasty in speaking of my love for you. In that case 
 I've got to pay for my folly." 
 
 " And it is folly, Mr Trelyon ! " she said, passionately, 
 and yet with nothing but tenderness in her face. " How 
 could you have thought of marrying me ? Why, the future 
 that ought to lie before you is far more than you can imagine 
 yet ; and you would go and hamper it by marrying an inn- 
 keeper's daughter ! It is folly, indeed ; and you will see that 
 very soon. But — but I am very sorry all this has occurred ; 
 it is another grief to me that I have troubled you. I think 
 I was born to bring grief to all my friends." 
 
 He was anxiously debating what he should do ; and he 
 needed all his wits at that moment, for his own feelings were 
 strong within him, and clamoring for expression. Would he 
 insist ? W T ould he bear down all opposition ? Happily, 
 quieter counsels prevailed ; for there was no mistaking the 
 absolute truthfulness of what the girl had said. 
 
 "Well, Wenna," he said, "I will do anything you like, only 
 to remain your friend. Is that possible ? Will you forgive 
 all that I have said if I make you a promise not to repeat it, 
 and never again to mention your engagement to Mr. Ros- 
 corla ? " 
 
 " No, we must part now altogether," she said slowly. Then, 
 by haphazard, she glanced up at his face for a moment, and 
 there was a great sadness in her eyes. " It is a hard thing 
 to part. Perhaps it will not be necessary that you should 
 never come to see me. But we must not be friends as we 
 have been ; for I have my duty to do towards him." 
 
 " Then I may come to see you sometimes ? " 
 
 She hesitated. 
 
 " You may come to see my mother sometimes. And I will 
 always think of you as a dear friend, whether I see you or not." 
 
 He went outside, and drew a long breath. 
 
 " I had to keep a tight grip on the reins that time," he was 
 thinking to himself; " a precious tight grip; but I did it." 
 
 He thought of the look there was in her eyes when she 
 finally bid him good-bye. His face grew the happier as he 
 thought of it. He was clearly not at all downhearted about 
 his rejection ; on the contrary, he went and told his Cousin 
 Juliott that the little affair of the morning had been quite sat- 
 isfactorily arranged ; that Miss Wenna and he were very good 
 
A PERILOUS TRUCE. 179 
 
 friends again ; and that it was quite a mistake to imagine that 
 she was already married to Mr. Roscorla. 
 
 " Harry," said his cousin, " I strictly forbid you to mention 
 that gentleman's name." 
 
 " Why, Jue ? " he said. 
 
 " Because I will not listen to the bad language you invari- 
 ably use whenever you speak of him ; and you ought to re- 
 member that you are in a clergyman's house. I wonder Miss 
 Rosewarne is not ashamed to have your acquaintance ; but I 
 dare say you amend your ways when you are in her presence. 
 She'll have plenty to reform if ever she takes you for a hus- 
 band." 
 
 " That's true enough, Jue," the young man said, penitently. 
 " I believe I'm a bad lot ; but then, look at the brilliant con- 
 trast which the future will present. You know that my old 
 grandmother is always saying to me, 'Harry, you were born 
 with as many manners as most folks ; and you've used none ; 
 so you'll have a rare stock to come and go on when you begin.' " 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 A PERILOUS TRUCE. 
 
 The very stars in their courses seemed to fight for this 
 young man. 
 
 No sooner had Wenna Rosewarne fled to her own room, 
 there to think over in a wild and bewildered way all that had 
 just happened, than her heart smote her sorely. She had not 
 acted prudently. She had forgotten her self-respect. She 
 ought to have forbidden him to come near her again — at least 
 until such time as this foolish fancy of his should have passed 
 away and been forgotten. 
 
 How could she have parted with him so calmly, and led 
 him to suppose that their former relations were unaltered ? 
 She looked back on the forced quietude of her manner, and 
 was herself astonished, Now her heart was beating rapidly ; 
 her trembling fingers were unconsciously twisting and untwist- 
 ing a bit of ribbon ; her head seemed giddy with the recollec- 
 tion of that brief and strange interview. Then, somehow, she 
 thought of the look on his face when she told him that hence- 
 forth they must be strangers to each other. It seemed hard 
 that he should be badly used for what was, perhaps, no inten- 
 
i So THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 tional fault. If anybody had been in fault, it was herself, in 
 being blind to a possibility to which even her own sister had 
 drawn her attention ; and so the punishment ought to fall on 
 her. 
 
 She would humble herself before Mr. Roscorla. She would 
 force herself to be affectionate towards him in her letters. 
 She would even write to Mabyn, and beg of her to take no 
 notice of that angry remonstrance. 
 
 Then Wenna thought of her mother, and how she ought to 
 tell her of all these things. But how could she ? During the 
 past clay or two Mrs. Rosewarne had been at times singularly 
 fretful and anxious. No letter had come from her husband. 
 In vain did Wenna remind her that men were more careless 
 of such small matters than women, and that it was too soon 
 to expect her father to sit down and write. Mrs. Rosewarne 
 sat brooding over her husband's silence ; then she would get 
 up in an excited fashion and declare her intention of going 
 straight back to Eglosilyan ; and these fitful moods preyed on 
 the health of the invalid. Ought Wenna to risk increasing 
 her anxiety by telling her this strange tale ? She would doubt- 
 less misunderstand it. She might be angry with Harry Trel- 
 yon. She would certainly be surprised that Wenna had 
 given him permission to see her again — not knowing that the 
 girl, in her forced composure, had been talking to him as if 
 this avowal of his were of no great moment. 
 
 All the same Wenna had a secret fear that she had been 
 imprudent in giving him this permission ; and the most she 
 could do now was to make his visits as few, short, and cere- 
 monious as possible. She would avoid him by every means 
 in her power ; and the first thing was to make sure that he 
 should not call on them again while they remained in Pen- 
 zance. 
 
 So she went down to the small parlor in a much more 
 equable frame of mind, though her heart was still throbbing 
 in an unusual way. The moment she entered the room she 
 saw that something had occurred to disturb her mother. 
 Mrs. Rosewarne turned from the window, and there was an 
 excited look in her eyes. 
 
 " Wenna," she said, hurriedly, " did you see that carriage ? 
 Did you see that woman ? Who was with her ? Did you 
 see who was with her ? I know it was she — not if I live a 
 hundred years could I forget that — that devil in human 
 shape ! " 
 
 " Mother, I don't know what you mean," Wenna said, 
 wholly aghast. 
 
A PERILOUS TRUCE. 181 
 
 Her mother had gone to the window again, and she was 
 saying to herself, hurriedly and in a low voice — 
 
 " No, you don't know ; you don't know — why should you 
 know ? That shameless creature ! And to drive by here — she 
 must have known I was here. Oh, the shamelessness of 
 the woman ! " 
 
 She turned to Wenna again. 
 
 "Wenna, I thought Mr. Trelyon was here. How long 
 has he been gone ? I want to see him most particularly — 
 most particularly, and only for a moment. He is sure to 
 know all the strangers at his hotel, is he not ? I want to ask 
 him some questions — Wenna, will you go at once and bid 
 him come to see me for a moment ? " 
 
 " Mother ! " Wenna said — how could she go to the hotehwith 
 such a message ? 
 
 "Well, send a note to him, Wenna — send a note by the 
 girl down-stairs. What harm is there in that ? " 
 
 " Lie down then, mother," said the girl calmly, " and I will 
 send a message to Mr. Trelyon." 
 
 She drew her chair to the table, and her cheeks crimsoned 
 to think of what he might imagine this letter to mean when 
 he got the envelope in his hands. Her fingers trembled as 
 she wrote the date at the head of the note. Then she came 
 to the word " Dear," and it seemed to her that if shame were 
 a punishment, she was doing sufficient penance for her indis- 
 cretion of that morning. Yet the note was not a compromis- 
 ing one. It merely said, " Dear Mr. Trelyon, — If you have 
 a moment to spare, my mother would be most obliged to you 
 if you would call on her. I hope you will forgive the trouble. 
 — Yours sincerely, Wenna Rosewarne." 
 
 When the young man got that note — he was just entering 
 the hotel when the servant arrived — he stared with surprise. 
 He told the girl he would call on Mrs. Rosewarne directly. 
 Then he followed her. 
 
 He never for a moment doubted that this note had refer- 
 ence to his own affairs. Wenna had told her mother what 
 had happened. The mother wished to see him to ask him to 
 cease visiting them. Well, he was prepared for that. He 
 would ask Wenna to leave the room. He would attack the 
 mother boldly, and tell her what he thought of Mr. Roscorla. 
 He would appeal to her to save her daughter from the im- 
 pending marriage. He would win her over to be his secret 
 ally and friend ; and while nothing should be done precipi- 
 tately to alarm Wenna or arouse her suspicions, might not 
 these two carry the citadel of her heart in time, and hand 
 
1 82 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 over the keys to the rightful lord ? It was a pleasant specu- 
 lation ; it was at least marked by that audacity that never 
 wholly forsook Master Harry Trelyon. Of course, he was 
 the rightful lord ; ready to bid all false claimants, rivals, and 
 pretenders beware. 
 
 And yet, as he walked up to the house, some little tremor 
 of anxiety crept into his heart. It was no mere game of brag 
 in which he was engaged. As he went into the parlor, 
 Wenna stepped quietly by him, her eyes downcast ; and he 
 knew that all he cared to look forward to in the world de- 
 pended on the decision of that quiet little person with the 
 sensitive mouth and the earnest eyes. Fighting was not of 
 much use there. 
 
 "Weil, Mrs. Rosewarne," said he, rather shamefacedly, "I 
 suppose you mean to scold me ? " 
 
 Her answer surprised him. She took no heed of his re- 
 mark, but in a vehement, excited way began to ask him 
 questions about a woman whom she described. He stared at 
 her. 
 
 " I hope you don't know anything about that elegant 
 creature ? " he said. 
 
 She did not wholly tell him the story, but left him to guess 
 at some portions of it ; and then she demanded to know all 
 about the woman and her companion, and how long they had 
 been in Penzance, and where they were going. Master Har- 
 ry was by chance able to reply to certain of her questions. 
 The answers comforted her greatly. Was he quite sure that 
 she was married ? What was her husband's name ? She was 
 no longer Mrs. Shirley ? Would he find out all he could ? 
 Would he forgive her asking him to take all this trouble ; and 
 would he premise to say no word about it to Wenna ? 
 
 When all this had been said and done, the young man felt 
 himself considerably embarrassed. Was there to be no men- 
 tion of his own affairs ? So far from remonstrating with him 
 and forbidding him the house, Mrs. Rosewarne was almost 
 effusively grateful to him,, and could only beg him a thousand 
 times not to mention the subject to her daughter. 
 
 " Oh, of course not," said he, rather bewildered. " But — 
 but I thought from the way in which she left the room that — 
 that perhaps I had offended her." 
 
 "Oh no, I am sure that is not the case," said Mrs. Rose- 
 warne, and she immediately went and called Wenna, who 
 came into the room with rather an anxious look on her face, 
 but she immediately perceived the change in her mother's 
 mood. The demon of suspicion and jealousy had teen as 
 
A PERILOUS TRUCE. 183 
 
 suddenly exorcised as it had been summoned. Mrs. Rose- 
 warne's fine eyes were lit by quite a new brightness and gay- 
 ety of spirits. She bade Wenr.a declare what fearful cause 
 of offence Mr. Trelyon had given ; and laughed when the 
 young man, blushing somewhat, hastily assured both of them 
 that it was all a stupid mistake of his own. 
 
 " Oh yes," Wenna said, rather nervously, " it is a mistake. 
 I am sure you have given me no offence at all, Mr. Trelyon." 
 
 It was an embarrassing moment for two, at least, out of 
 these three persons ; and Mrs. Rosewarne, in her abundant 
 good-nature, could not understand their awkward silence. 
 Wenna was apparently looking out of the window at the bright 
 blue bay and the boats ; and yet the girl was not ordinarily 
 so occupied when Mr. Trelyon was present. As for him, he 
 had got his hat in his hands ; he seemed to be much con- 
 cerned about it, or about his boots ; one did not often find 
 Harry Trelyon actually showing shyness. 
 
 At last he said, desperately — 
 
 " Mrs. Rosewarne, perhaps you would go out for a sail in 
 the afternoon ? I could get you a nice little yacht, and some 
 rods and lines. Won't you ? " 
 
 Mrs. Rosewarne was in a kindly humor. She said she 
 would be very glad to go, for Wenna was growing tired of 
 always sitting by the window. This would be some little 
 variety for her. 
 
 " I hope you won't consider me, mother," said the young 
 lady quickly, and with some asperity. " I am quite pleased 
 to sit by the window — I could do so always. And it is very 
 wrong of us to take up so much of Mr. Trelyon's time." 
 
 " Because Mr. Trelyon's time is of so much use to him," 
 said that young man, with a laugh ; and then he told them 
 when to expect him in the afternoon, and went his way. 
 
 He was in much better spirits when he went out. He 
 whistled as he went. The plash of the blue sea all along the 
 shingle seemed to have a sort of laugh in it ; he was in love 
 with Penzance and all its beautiful neighborhood. Once 
 again, he was saying to himself, he would spend a quiet and 
 delightful afternoon with Wenna Rosewarne, even if that were 
 to be the last. He would surrender himself to the gentle intoxi- 
 cation of her presence. He would get a glimpse, from time 
 to time, of her dark eyes when she was looking wistfully and 
 absently over the sea. It was no breach of the implied con- 
 tract with her that he should have seized this occasion. He 
 had been sent for. And if it was necessary that he should 
 abstain from seeing her for any great length of time, why 
 
184 THREE FEA TITERS. 
 
 this single afternoon would not make much difference. 
 Afterwards he would obey her wishes in any manner she 
 pleased. 
 
 He walked into the hotel. There was a gentleman stand- 
 ing in the hall whose acquaintance Master Harry had conde- 
 scended to make. He was a person of much money, uncertain 
 grammar, and oppressive generosity ; he wore a frilled shirt 
 and diamond studs, and he had such a vast admiration for 
 this handsome, careless, and somewhat rude young man that 
 he would have been very glad had Mr. Trelyon dined with 
 him every evening, and taken the trouble to win any reason- 
 able amount of money of him at billiards afterwards. Mr. 
 Trelyon had not as yet graced his table. 
 
 " Oh, Grainger," said the young man, " I want to speak to 
 you. Will you dine with me to-night at eight ? " 
 
 " No, no, no," said Mr. Grainger, shaking his head in 
 humble protest, " that isn't fair. You dine with me ? It 
 ain't the first or the second time of asking either." 
 
 " But look here," said Trelyon, " I've got lots more to ask 
 of you. I want you to lend me that little cutter of yours for 
 the afternoon ; will you ? You send your man on board to 
 see she's all right, and I'll pull out to her in about half an 
 hour's time. You'll do that, won't you, like a good fellow ? " 
 
 Mr. Grainger was not only willing to lend the yacht, but 
 also his own services, to see that she properly received so 
 distinguished a guest; whereupon Trelyon had to explain 
 that he wanted the small craft merely to give a couple of 
 ladies a sail for an hour or so. Then Mr. Grainger would 
 have his man instructed to let the ladies have some tea on 
 board ; and he would give Master Harry the key of certain 
 receptacles, in which he would find cans of preserved meat, 
 fancy buscuits, jam, and even a few bottles of dry Sillery ; 
 finally, he would immediately hurry off to see about fishing- 
 rods. Trelyon had to acknowledge to himself that this 
 worthy person deserved the best dinner that the hotel could 
 produce. 
 
 In the afternoon he walked along to fetch Mrs. Rosewarne 
 and her daughter, his face bright with expectation. Mrs. 
 Rosewarne was dressed and ready when he went in ; but she 
 said — 
 
 " I am afraid I can't go, Mr. Trelyon. Wenna says she is 
 a little tired, and would rather stay at home." 
 
 " Wenna, that isn't fair," he said, obviously hurt. " You 
 ought to make some little effort when you know it will do 
 
A PERILOUS TRUCE. 
 
 *5 
 
 your mother good. And it will do you good too, if only you 
 make up your mind to go." 
 
 She hesitated for a moment ; she saw that her mother was 
 disappointed. Then, without a word, she went and put on 
 her hat and shawl. 
 
 "Well," he said, approvingly, "you are very reasonable, 
 and very obedient. But we can't have you go with us with 
 such a face as that. People would say we were going to a 
 funeral." 
 
 A shy smile came over the gentle features, and she turned 
 aside. 
 
 " And we can't have you pretend that we forced you to go. 
 If we go at all, you must lead the way." 
 
 "You would tease the life out of a saint i " she said, with 
 a vexed and embarrassed laugh, and then she marched out 
 before them, very glad to be able to conceal her heightened 
 color. 
 
 But much of her reserve vanished when they had set sail, 
 and when the small cutter was beginning to make way 
 through the light and plashing waves. Wenna's face bright- 
 ened. She no longer let her two companions talk exclusively 
 to each other. She began to show a great curiosity about 
 the little yacht ; she grew anxious to have the lines flung 
 out ; no words of hers could express her admiration for the 
 beauty of the afternoon and of the scene around her. 
 
 " Now are you glad you came out ? " he said to her. 
 
 " Yes," she answered, shyly. 
 
 " And you'll take my advice another time ? " 
 
 " Do you ever take any one's advice ? " she said, venturing 
 to look up. 
 
 " Yes, certainly," he answered, " when it agrees with my 
 own inclination. Who ever does any more than that ? " 
 
 They were now a good bit away from land. 
 
 " Skipper," said Trelyon to Mr. Grainger's man, " we'll 
 put her about now, and let her drift. Here is a cigar for 
 you ; you can take it up to the bow and smoke it, and keep 
 a good lookout for the sea-serpent." 
 
 By this arrangement they obtained, as they sat and idly 
 talked, an excellent view of all the land around the bay, and 
 of the pale, clear sunset shining in the western skies. They 
 lay almost motionless in the lapping water; the light breeue 
 scarcely stirred the loose canvas. From time to time they 
 could hear a sound of calling or laughing from the distant 
 fishing-boats ; and that only seemed to increase the silence 
 around them. 
 
iS6 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 It was an evening that invited to repose and reverie •, 
 there were not even the usual fiery colors of the sunset to 
 arouse and fix attention by their rapidly changing and glow- 
 ing hues. The town itself, lying darkly all around the sweep 
 of the bay, was dusky and distant; elsewhere all the world 
 seemed to be flooded with the silver light coming over from 
 behind the western hills. The sky was of the palest blue ; 
 the long mackerel clouds that stretched across were of the 
 faintest yellow and light gray ; and into that shining gray 
 rose the black stems of the trees that were just over the out- 
 line of these low heights. St. Michael's Mount had its 
 summit touched by the pale glow ; the rest of the giant rock 
 and the far stretches of sea around it were gray with mist. 
 But close by the boat there was a sharper light on the lap- 
 ping waves and on the tall spars ; while it was warm enough 
 to heighten the color on Wenna's face as she sat and looked 
 silently at the great and open world around her. 
 
 They were drifting in more ways than one. Wenna almost 
 forgot what had occurred in the morning. She was so 
 pleased to see her mother pleased that she talked quite 
 unreservedly to the young man who had wrought the change, 
 and was ready to believe all that Mrs. Rosewarne said in 
 private about his being so delightful and cheerful a com- 
 panion. As for him, he was determined to profit by this last 
 opportunity. If the strict rules of honor demanded that Mr. 
 Roscorla should have fair play — or if Wenna wished him to 
 absent himself, which was of more consequence than Mr. 
 Roscorla's interests — he would make his visits few and 
 formal; but in the meantime, at least, they would have this 
 one pleasant afternoon together. Sometimes, it is true, he 
 rebelled against the uncertain pledge he had given her. Why 
 should he not seek to win her ? What had the strict rules of 
 honor to do with the prospect of a young girl allowing her- 
 self to be sacrificed, while here he was able and willing to 
 snatch her away from her fate ? 
 
 " How fond you are of the sea and of boats ! " he said to 
 her. " Sometimes I think I shall have a big schooner yacht 
 built for myself, and take her to the Mediterranean, going 
 from place to place just as one took the fancy. But it would 
 be very dull by yourself, wouldn't it, even if you had a dozen 
 men on board ? What you want is to have a small party all 
 very friendly with each other, and at night you would sit up 
 on deck and sing songs. And I think you would like those 
 old-fashioned songs that you sing, Miss Wenna, all the better 
 for hearing them so far away from home — at least, I should ; 
 
A PERILOUS TRUCE. 187 
 
 but then I'm an outer barbarian. I think you, now, would 
 be delighted with the grand music abroad — with the operas, 
 you know, and all that. I've had to knock about these places 
 with people ; but I don't care about it. I would rather hear 
 1 Norah, the Pride of Kildare,' or ' The Maid of Llangollen ' 
 — because, I suppose, these young women are more in my 
 line. You see, I shouldn't care to make the acquaintance of 
 a gorgeous creature with black hair and a train of yellow 
 satin half a mile long, who tosses up a gilt goblet when she 
 sings a drinking song, and then gets into a frightful passion 
 about what you don't understand. Wouldn't you rather meet 
 the ' Maid of Llangollen ' coming along a country road — 
 coming in by Marazion over there, for example — with a bright 
 print dress all smelling of lavender, and a basket of fresh 
 eggs over her arm ? Well — what was I saying ? Oh yes ! 
 don't you think if you were away in the Adriatic, and sitting 
 up on deck at night, you would make the people have a 
 quiet cry when you sang ' Home, sweet home ? ' The words 
 are rather silly, aren't they ? But they make you think of 
 such a lot if you hear them abroad." 
 
 " And when are you going away this year, Mr. Trelyon ? " 
 Wenna said, looking down. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know," he said, cheerfully ; he would have 
 no question of his going away interfere with the happiness of 
 the present moment. 
 
 At length, however, they had to bethink themselves of get- 
 ting back, for the western skies were deepening in color, and 
 the evening air was growing chill. They ran the small cutter 
 back to her moorings ; then they put off in the small boat 
 for the shore. It was a beautiful, quiet evening. Wenna, 
 who had taken off her glove and was allowing her bare hand 
 to drag through the rippling water, seemed to be lost in 
 distant and idle fancies not altogether of a melancholy 
 nature. 
 
 " Wenna," her mother said, "you will get your hand per- 
 fectly chilled." 
 
 The girl drew back her hand, and shook the water off her 
 dripping fingers. Then she uttered a slight cry. 
 
 " My ring ! " she said, looking with absolute flight at her 
 hand and then at the sea. 
 
 Of course, they stopped the boat instantly ; but all they 
 could do was to stare at the clear, dark water. The distress 
 of the girl was beyond expression. This was no ordinary 
 trinket that had been lost ; it was a gage of plighted affection 
 given her by one now far away, and in his absence she had 
 
1 88 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 carelessly flung it into the sea. She had no fear of omens, 
 as her sister had ; but surely, of all things in the world, she 
 ought to have treasured up this ring. In spite of herself, 
 tears sprang to her eyes. Her mother in vain attempted to 
 make light of the loss. And then at last Harry Trelyon, 
 driven almost beside himself by seeing the girl so plunged 
 in grief, hit upon a wild fashion of consoling her. 
 
 " Wenna," he said, " don't disturb yourself ! Why, we 
 can easily get you the ring. Look at the rocks there — a long 
 bank of smooth sand slopes out from them, and your ring is 
 quietly lying upon the sand. There is nothing easier than to 
 get it up with a dredging-machine — I will undertake to let 
 you have it by to-morrow afternoon." 
 
 Mrs. Rosewarne thought he was joking ; but he effectually 
 persuaded Wenna, at all events, that she should have her 
 ring next day. Then he discovered that he would be just in 
 time to catch the half-past six train to Plymouth, where he 
 would get the proper apparatus, and return in the morning. 
 
 " It was a pretty ring," said he. "There were six stones 
 in it, weren't there ? " 
 
 " Five," she said : so much she knew, though it must be 
 confessed she had not studied that token of Mr. Roscorla's 
 affection with the earnest solicitude which most young ladies 
 bestow on the first gift of their lover. 
 
 Trelyon jumped into a fly and drove off to the station, where 
 he sent back an apology to Mr. Grainger. Wenna went home 
 more perturbed than she had been for many a day, and that 
 not solely on account of the lost ring. 
 
 Everything seemed to conspire against her, and keep her 
 from carrying out her honorable resolutions. That sail in 
 the afternoon she could not well have avoided ; but she had 
 determined to take some opportunity of begging Mr. Trelyon 
 not to visit them again while they remained in Penzance. 
 Now, however, he was coming next clay ; and, whether or not 
 he was successful in his quest after the missing ring, would 
 she not have to show herself abundantly grateful for all his 
 kindness? 
 
 In putting away her gloves she came upon the letter of 
 Mr. Roscorla, which she had not yet answered. She shivered 
 slightly : the handwriting on the envelope seemed to reproach 
 her. And yet something of a rebellious spirit rose in her 
 against this imaginary accusation ; and she grew angry that 
 she was called upon to serve this harsh and inconsiderate 
 taskmaster, and give him explanations which humiliated her. 
 He had no right to ask questions about Mr. Trelyon. He 
 
FURTHER ENTANGLEMENTS. 189 
 
 ought not to have listened to idle gossip. He should have 
 had sufficient faith in her promised word ; and if he only knew 
 the torture of doubt and anxiety she was suffering on his be- 
 half- 
 She did not pursue these speculations further ; but it was 
 well with Mr. Roscorla that she did not at that moment sit 
 down and answer his letter. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIL 
 
 FURTHER ENTANGLEMENTS. 
 
 " Mother," said Wenna, that night, " what vexed you so this 
 morning ? Who was the woman who went by ? " 
 
 " Don't ask me, Wenna," the mother said, rather uneasily. 
 " It would do you no good to know. And you must not speak 
 of that woman — she is too horrid a creature to be mentioned 
 by a young girl ever." 
 
 Wenna looked surprised ; and then she said, warmly — 
 
 " And if she is so, mother, how could you ask Mr. Trelyon 
 to have anything to do with her ? Why should you send for 
 him ? Why should he be spoken to about her ? " 
 
 " Mr. Trelyon ! " her mother said, impatiently. " You seem 
 to have no thought now for anybody but Mr. Trelyon. Surely 
 the young man can take care of himself." 
 
 The reproof was just ; the justice of it was its sting. She 
 was indeed thinking too much about the young man, and her 
 mother was right in saying so ; but who was to understand 
 the extreme anxiety that possessed her to bring these danger- 
 ous relations to an end? 
 
 On the following afternoon Wenna, sitting alone at the 
 window, heard Trelyon enter below. The young person who 
 had charge of such matters allowed him to go up the stairs and 
 announce himself as a matter of course. He tapped at the 
 door, and came into the room. 
 
 "Where's your mother, Wenna? The girl said she was 
 here. However, never mind — I've brought you something 
 that will astonish you. What do you think of that ? " 
 
 She scarcely looked at the ring, so great was her em- 
 barrassment. That the present of one lover should be 
 brought back to her by another was an awkward, almost a 
 humiliating, circumstance. Yet she was glad as well as 
 ashamed. 
 
190 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Trelyon, how can I thank you ? " she said, in 
 her low, earnest voice. " All you seem to care for is to 
 make other people happy — and the trouble you have taken 
 too ! " 
 
 She forgot to look at the ring — even when he pointed out 
 how the washing in the sea had made it bright. She never 
 asked about the dredging. Indeed, she was evidently disin- 
 clined to speak of this matter in any way, and kept the finger 
 with the ring on it out of sight. 
 
 " Mr. Trelyon," she said then, with equal steadiness of 
 voice, " I am going to ask something more from you ; and I 
 am sure you will not refuse it — " 
 
 " I know," said he, hastily, " and let me have the first 
 word. I have been thinking over our position during this 
 trip to Plymouth and back. Well, I think I have become a 
 nuisance to you — wait a bit, let me say my say in my own 
 way ; I can see that I only embarrass you when I call on 
 you, and that the permission you give me is only leading to 
 awkwardness and discomfort. Mind, I don't think you are 
 acting fairly to yourself or to me in forbidding me to mention 
 again what I told you. I know you're wrong. You should 
 let me show you what sort of a life lies before you — but there, 
 I promised to keep clear of that. Well, I will do what you 
 like ; and if you'd rather have me stay away altogether, I will 
 do that. I don't want to be a nuisance to you. But mind 
 this, Wenna, I do it because you wish it — I don't do it 
 because I think any man is bound to respect an engagement 
 which — which — which, in fact, he doesn't respect — " 
 
 His eloquence broke down ; but his meaning was clear. 
 He stood there before her, ready to accept her decision with 
 all meekness and obedience ; but giving her frankly to 
 understand that he did not any the more countenance or 
 consider as a binding thing her engagement to Mr. Roscorla. 
 
 " Mind you," he said, " I am not quite as indifferent about 
 all this as I look. It isn't the way of our family to put their 
 hands in their pockets and wait for orders. But I can't fight 
 with you. Many a time I wish there was a man in the case 
 — then he and I might have it out ; but as it is, I suppose I 
 have got to do what you say, Wenna, and that's the long and 
 the short of it." 
 
 She did not hesitate. She went forward and offered him 
 her hand ; and with her frank eyes looking him in the face, 
 she said — 
 
 " You have said what I wished to say, and I feared I had 
 not the courage to say it. Now you are acting bravely. 
 
FURTHER ENTANGLEMENTS. 191 
 
 Perhaps at some future time we may become friends again — 
 oh yes, and I do hope that ! — but in the mean time you will 
 treat me as if I were a stranger to you ! " 
 
 " That is quite impossible," said he, decisively. " You ask 
 too much, Wenna." 
 
 " Would not that be the simpler way ? " she said, looking 
 at him again with the frank and earnest eyes ; and he knew 
 she was right. 
 
 " And the length of time ? " he said. 
 
 " Until Mr. Roscorla comes home again, at all events," 
 she said. 
 
 She had touched an angry chord. 
 
 " What has he to do with us ? " the young man said, almost 
 fiercely. " I refuse to have him come in as arbiter or in any 
 way whatever. Let him mind his own business ; and I can 
 tell you when he and I come to talk over this engagement of 
 yours — " 
 
 " You promised not to speak of that," she said quietly, and 
 he instantly ceased. 
 
 " Well, Wenna," he said, after a minute or two, " I think 
 you ask too much ; but you must have it your own way. I 
 won't annoy you and drive you into a corner — you may 
 depend on that. But to be perfect strangers for an indefinite 
 time ! — then you won't speak to me when I see you passing 
 to church ? " 
 
 " Oh yes," she said, looking down ; " I did not mean 
 strangers like that." 
 
 " And I thought," said he, with something more than disap- 
 pointment in his face, " that when I proposed to — to relieve 
 you from my visits, you would at least let us have one more 
 afternoon together — only one — for a drive, you know. It 
 would be nothing to you — it would be something for me to 
 remember — " 
 
 She would not recognize the fact, but for a brief moment 
 his under lip quivered ; and somehow she seemed to know it, 
 though she dared not look up to his face. 
 
 " One afternoon — only one, to-morrow — next day, Wenna ? 
 Surely you cannot refuse me that ? " 
 
 Then, looking at her with a great compassion in his eyes, 
 he suddenly altered his tone. 
 
 " I think I ought to be hanged," he said, in a vexed way. 
 " You are the only person in the world I care for, and every 
 time I see you I plunge you into trouble. # Well, this is the 
 last time. Good-bye, Wenna ! " 
 
 Almost involuntarily she put out her hand ; but it was 
 
192 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 with the least perceptible gesture to bid him remain. Then 
 she went past him ; and there were tears running down her 
 face. 
 
 " If — if you will wait a moment," she said, " I will see if 
 mamma and I can go with you to-morrow afternoon." 
 
 She went out and he was left alone. Each word that she 
 had uttered had pierced his heart ; but which did he feel the 
 more deeply — remorse that he should have insisted on this 
 slight and useless concession, or bitter rage against the cir- 
 cumstances that environed them, and the man who was al- 
 together responsible for these ? There was now at least one 
 person in the world who greatly longed for the return of Mr. 
 Roscorla. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 FAREWELL ! 
 
 "Yes, it is true,", the young man said, next morning, to 
 his cousin, " this is the last time I shall see her for many a 
 day." 
 
 He was standing with his back to her, moodily staring out 
 of the window. 
 
 " Well, Harry," his cousin said, gently enough, " you won't 
 be hurt if I say it is a very good thing ? I am glad to see 
 you have so much patience and reasonableness. Indeed, I 
 think Miss Rosewarne has very much improved you in that 
 respect ; and it is very good advice she has given you now. ;> 
 
 " Oh yes, it is all .very well to talk ! " he said, impatiently. 
 " Common-sense is precious easy when you are quite indiffer- 
 ent. Of course, she is quite indifferent, and she says, ' Don't 
 trouble me!' What can one do -but go? But if she was 
 not so indifferent — " 
 
 He turned suddenly. 
 
 " J ue > y ou can't tell what trouble I am in ! Do you know 
 that sometimes I have fancied she was not quite so indiffer- 
 ent — I have had the cheek to think so from one or two things 
 she said — and then, if that were so, it is enough to drive one 
 mad to think of leaving her. How could I leave her, Jue ? 
 If any one cared for you, would you quietly sneak off in order 
 to consult your own comfort and convenience ? Would you 
 be patient and reasonable then ? " 
 
 " Harry, don't talk in that excited way. Listen. She 
 does not ask you to go away for your sake, but for hers." 
 
FAREWELL! 193 
 
 " For her sake ? " he repeated, staring. " If she is indif- 
 ferent, how can that matter to her ? Well, I suppose I am_ a 
 nuisance to her — as much as I am to myself. There it is. 
 I am an interloper." 
 
 " My poor boy," his cousin said, with a kindiy smile, " you 
 don't know your own mind two minutes running. During this 
 past week you have been blown about by all sorts of con- 
 trary winds of opinion and fancy. Sometimes you thought 
 she cared for you — sometimes no. Sometimes you thought 
 it a shame to interfere with Mr. Roscorla ; then again you 
 grew indignant and would have slaughtered him. Now you 
 don't know whether you ought to go away or stop to perse- 
 cute her. Don't you think she is the best judge ? " 
 
 " No, I don't," he said. " I think she is no judge of what 
 is best for her, because she never thinks of that. She wants 
 somebody by her to insist on her being properly selfish." 
 
 "That would be a pretty lesson." 
 
 " A necessary one, anyhow, with some women, I can tell 
 you. But I suppose I must go, as she says. I couldn't 
 bear meeting her about Eglosilyan, and be scarcely allowed 
 to speak to her. Then when that hideous little beast comes 
 back from Jamaica, fancy seeing them walk about together ! 
 I must cut the whole place. I shall go into the army — it's 
 the only profession open to a fool like me, and they say it 
 won't be long open either. When I come back, Jue, I sup- 
 pose you'll be Mrs. Tressider." 
 
 "I am very sorry," his cousin said, not heeding the refer- 
 ence to herself ; " I never expected to see you so deep in 
 trouble, Harry. But you have youth and good spirits on 
 your side : you will get over it." 
 
 " I suppose so," he said, not very cheerfully ; and then he 
 went off to see about the carriage which was to take Wenna 
 and himself for their last drive together. 
 
 At the same time that he was talking to his cousin, Wenna 
 was seated at her writing-desk answering Mr. Roscorla's let- 
 ter. Her brows were knit together; she was evidently 
 laboring at some difficult and disagreeable task. Her 
 mother, lying on the sofa,, was regarding her with an amused 
 look. 
 
 V What is the matter, Wenna ? That letter seems to give 
 you a deal of trouble." 
 
 The girl put down her pen with some trace of vexation in 
 her face. 
 
 " Yes, indeed, mother. How is one to explain delicate 
 
i 9 4 THREE FEATHERS- 
 
 matters in a letter ? Every phrase seems capable of mis- 
 construction. And then the mischief it may cause ! " 
 
 " But surely you don't need to write with such care to Mr. 
 Roscorla ! " 
 
 Wenna colored slightly, and hesitated, as she answered — 
 
 "Well, mother, it is something peculiar. I did not wish 
 to trouble you ; but after all I don't think you will vex your- 
 self about so small a thing. Mr. Roscorla has been told 
 stories about me. He is angry that Mr. Trelyon should visit 
 us so often. And — and — I am trying to explain. That, is 
 all, mother." 
 
 " It is quite enough, Wenna ; but I am not surprised. Of 
 course, if foolish persons liked to misconstrue Mr. Trelyon's 
 visits, they might make mischief. I see no harm in them 
 myself. I suppose the young man found an evening at the 
 inn amusing; and I can see that he likes you very well, 
 as many other people do. But you know how you are sit- 
 uated, Wenna. If Mr. Roscorla objects to your continuing 
 an acquaintance with Mr. Trelyon, your duty is clear." 
 
 " I do not think it is, mother," Wenna said, an indignant 
 flush of color appearing in her face. " I should not be justi- 
 fied in throwing over any friend or acquaintance merely be- 
 cause Mr. Roscorla had heard rumors. I would not do it. 
 He ought not to listen to such things — he ought to have 
 greater faith in me. But at the same time I have asked Mr. 
 Trelyon not to come here so often — I have done so already 
 — and after to-day, mother, the gossips will have nothing to 
 report." 
 
 " That is better, Wenna," the mother said ; " I shall be 
 sorry myself to miss the young man, for I like him ; but it 
 is better you should attend to Mr. Roscorla's wishes. And 
 don't answer his letter in a vexed or angry way, Wenna." 
 
 She was certainly not doing so. Whatever she might be 
 thinking, a deliberate and even anxious courtesy was visible 
 in the answer she was sending him. Her pride would not 
 allow her to apologize for what had been done, in which she 
 had seen no wrong; but as to the future she was earnest in 
 her promises. And yet she could not help saying a good 
 word for Trelyon. 
 
 " You have known him longer than I have," she wrote, 
 " and you know what his character is. I could see nothing 
 wrong in his coming to see my family and myself ; nor did 
 you say anything against him while you saw him with us. I 
 am sure you believe he is straightforward, honest, and frank ; 
 and if his frankness sometimes verges upon rudeness, he is 
 
FAREWELL! 195 
 
 of late greatly improved in that respect — as in many others 
 — and he is most respectful and gentle in his manners. As 
 for his kindness to my mother and myself, we could not shut 
 our eyes to it Here is the latest instance of it ; although I 
 feel deeply ashamed to tell you the story. We were return- 
 ing in a small boat, and I was carelessly letting my hand 
 drag through the water, when somehow the ring you gave me 
 dropped off. Of course, we all considered it lost — all except 
 Mr. Trelyon, who took the trouble to go at once all the way 
 to Plymouth for a dredging-machine, and the following after- 
 noon I was overjoyed to find him return with the lost ring, 
 which I had scarcely dared hope to see again. How many 
 gentleman would have done so much for a mere acquaintance ? 
 I am sure if you had been here you would have been ashamed 
 of me if I had not been grateful to him. Now, however, 
 since you appear to attach importance to these idle rumors, 
 I have asked Mr. Trelyon — " 
 
 So the letter went on. She would not have written so 
 calmly if she had foreseen the passion which her ingenuous 
 story about the dredging-machine was destined to arouse. 
 Whe'n Mr. Roscorla read that simple narrative, he first stared 
 with astonishment as though she were making some foolish 
 joke. Directly he saw she was serious, however, his rage 
 and mortification were indescribable. Here was this young 
 man, not content with hanging about the girl so that neigh- 
 bors talked, but actually imposing on her credulity, and mak- 
 ing a jest of that engaged ring which ought to have been sa- 
 cred to her. Mr. Roscorla at once saw through the whole 
 affair— the trip to Plymouth, the purchasing of a gypsy ring 
 that could have been matched a dozen times over anywhere 
 — the return to Penzance with a cock-and-bull story about a 
 dredging-machine. So hot was his anger that it overcame 
 his prudence. He would start for England at once. He 
 had taken no such resolution when he heard from the friendly 
 and communicative Mr. Barnes that Mr. Trelyon's conduct 
 with regard to Wenna was causing scandal ; but this making a 
 fool of him in his absence he could not bear. At any cost 
 he would set out for England ; arrange matters more to his 
 satisfaction by recalling Wenna to a sense : of her position ; 
 then he would return to Jamaica. His affairs there were al- 
 ready promising so well that he could afford the- trip. 
 
 Meanwhile Wenna had just finished her letter when Mr. 
 Trelyon drove up with the carriage, and shortly afterwards 
 came into the room. He seemed rather grave, and yet not 
 at all sentimentally sad. He addressed himself mostly to 
 
196 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 Mrs. Rosewarne, and talked to her about the Port Isaac 
 fishing, the emigration of the miners, and other matters. 
 Then Wenna slipped away to get ready. 
 
 " Mrs. Rosewarne," he said, " you asked me to find out 
 what I could about that red-faced person, you know. Well, 
 here is an advertisement which may interest you. I came 
 on it quite accidentally last night in the smoking-room of the 
 hotel." 
 
 It was a marriage advertisment, cut from a paper about 
 a week old. The name of the lady was " Katherine Ann, 
 widow of the late J. T. Shirley, Esq., of Barrackpore." 
 
 " Yes ! I was sure it was that woman ! " Mrs. Rosewarne 
 said eagerly. " And so she is married again ? " 
 
 " I fancied the gay young things were here on their 
 wedding-trip," Trelyon said carelessly. " They amused me. 
 I like to see turtle-doves of fifty billing and cooing on the 
 promenade, especially when one of them wears a brown wig, 
 has an Irish accent, and drinks brandy-and-water at breakfast. 
 But he is a good billiard-player ; yes, he is an uncommonly 
 good billiard-player. He told me last night he had beaten 
 the Irish Secretary the other day in the billiard room of the 
 House of Commons. I humbly suspect that was a lie. At 
 least, I can't remember anything about a billiard-table in the 
 House of Commons, and I was two or three times through 
 every bit of it when I was a little chap, with an uncle of 
 mine, who was a member then ; but perhaps they've got a 
 billiard-table now — who knows ? He told me he had stood 
 for an Irish borough — spent ^3000 on a population of 284 — 
 and all he got was a black eye and a broken head. I should 
 say all that was a fabrication, too ; indeed, I think he rather 
 amuses himself with lies — and brandy-and-water. But you 
 don't want to know anything more about him, Mrs. Rose- 
 warne ? " 
 
 She did not. All that she cared to know was in that little 
 strip of printed paper ; and as she left the room to get ready 
 for the drive she expressed herself grateful to him in such 
 warm tones that he was rather astonished. After all, as he 
 said to himself, he had had nothing to do in bringing about 
 the marriage of that somewhat gorgeous person in whom 
 Mrs. Rosewarne was so strangely interested. 
 
 They were silent as they drove away. There was one 
 happy face among them, that of Mrs. Rosewarne ; but she 
 was thinking of her own affairs, in a sort of pleased reverie. 
 Wenna was timid and a trifle sad ; she said little beyond 
 " Yes, Air. Trelyon," and " No, Mr. Trelyon," and even that 
 
FAREWELL! 197 
 
 was said fh a low voice. As for him, he spoke "o her grave- 
 ly and respectfully: it was already as if she were a mere 
 stranger. 
 
 Had some of his old friends and acquaintances seer* him 
 now, they would have been something more than astonished. 
 Was this young man, talking in a gentle and courteous fashion 
 to his companion, and endeavoring to interest her in the 
 various things around her, the same dare-devil lad who used 
 to clatter down the main street of Eglosilyan, who knew no 
 control other than his own unruly wishes, and who had no 
 answer but a mocking jest for any remonstrance ? 
 
 " And how long do you remain in Penzance, Mr. Trel- 
 yon ? " Mrs. Rosewarne said at length. 
 
 " Until to-morrow, I expect," he answered. 
 
 " To-morrow ? " 
 
 "Yes; I am going back to Eglosilyan. You know my 
 mother means to give some party or other on my coming of 
 age, and there is so little of that amusement going on at our 
 house that it needs all possible encouragement. After that 
 I mean to leave Eglosilyan for a time." 
 
 Wenna said nothing ; but her downcast face grew a little 
 paler : it was she who was banishing him. 
 
 "By the way," he continued, with a smile, "my mother is 
 very anxious about Miss Wenna's return. I fancy she has 
 been trying to go into that business of the Sewing Club on 
 her own account ; and in that case she would be sure to get 
 into a mess. I know her first impulse would be to pay any 
 money to smooth matters over ; but that would be a bad be- 
 ginning, wouldn't it ? " 
 
 " Yes, it would," Wenna said ; but somehow, at this mo- 
 ment, she was less inclined to be hopeful about the future. 
 
 " And as for you, Mrs. Rosewarne," he said, " I suppose 
 you will be going home soon, now that the change seems to 
 have done you so much good ? " 
 
 "Yes, I hope so," she said; "but Wenna must go first. 
 My husband writes to me that he cannot do without her, and 
 offers to send Mabyn instead. Nobody seems to be able to 
 get on without our Wenna." 
 
 "And yet she has the most curious fancy that she is of no 
 account to anybody. Why, some day I expect to hear of the 
 people in Eglosilyan holding a public meeting to present her 
 with a service of plate, and an address written on parchment, 
 with blue and gold letters." 
 
 " Perhaps they will do that when she gets married," the 
 mother said, ignorant of the stab she was dealing. 
 
198 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 It was a picturesque and pleasant bit of country through 
 which they were driving ; yet to two of them at least the af- 
 ternoon sun seemed to shine over it with a certain sadness. 
 It was as if they were bidding good-bye to some beautiful scene 
 they could scarcely expect to revisit. For many a day there- 
 after, indeed, Wenna seemed to recollect that drive as though 
 it had happened in a dream. She remembered the rough and 
 lonely road leading up sharp hills and getting down into val- 
 leys again ; the masses of ferns and wild flowers by the stone 
 walls , the wild and undulating country, with its stretches of 
 yellow furze, its clumps of trees, and its huge blocks of gray 
 granite. She remembered their passing into a curious little 
 valley, densely wooded, the winding path of which was not 
 well fitted for a broad carriage and a pair of horses. They 
 had to watch the boughs and branches as they jolted by. 
 The sun was warm among the foliage ; there was a resinous 
 scent of ferns about. By and by the valley abruptly opened 
 on a wide and beautiful picture. Lamorna Cove lay before 
 them, and a cold fresh breeze came in from the sea. Here 
 the world seemed to cease suddenly. All around them were 
 huge rocks and wild flowers and trees ; and far up there on 
 their left rose a hill of granite, burning red with the sunset ; 
 but down below them the strange little harbor was in shadow, 
 and the sea beyond, catching nothing of the glow in the west, 
 was gray and mystic and silent. Not a ship was visible on 
 that pale plain ; no human being could be seen about the 
 stone quays and the cottages ; it seemed as if they had come 
 to the end of the world, and were its last inhabitants. All 
 these things Wenna thought of in after-days, until the odd and 
 plain little harbor of Lamorna and its rocks and bushes and 
 slopes of granite seemed to be some bit of fairyland, steeped 
 in the rich hues of the sunset, and yet ethereal, distant, and 
 unrecoverable. 
 
 Mrs. Rosewarne did not at all understand the silence of 
 these young people, and made many attempts to break it up. 
 Was the mere fact of Mr. Trelyon returning to Eglosilyan 
 next day anything to be sad about ? He was not a school-boy 
 going back to school. As for Wenna, she had got back her 
 engaged ring, and ought to have been grateful and happy. 
 
 " Come now," she said, " if you purpose to dnve back by 
 the Mouse Hole, we must waste no more time here. Wenna, 
 have you gone to sleep ? " 
 
 The girl started as if she had really been asleep \ then she 
 walked back to the carriage and got in. They drove away 
 again without saying a word. 
 
FAREWELL! 199 
 
 " What is the matter with you, Wenna ? Why are you so 
 downcast ? " her mother asked. 
 
 " Oh, nothing ! " the girl said hastily. " But — but one does 
 not care to talk much on so beautiful an evening." 
 
 " Yes, that is quite true/' said Mr. Trelyon, quite as eager- 
 ly, and with something of a blush ; " one only cares to sit and 
 look at things.'* 
 
 "Oh, indeed," said Mrs. Rosewarne, with a smile; she 
 had never before heard Mr. Trelyon express his views upon 
 scenery. 
 
 They drove around by the Mouse Hole, and when they 
 came in sight of Penzance again, the bay and the semicircle 
 of houses and St. Michael's Mount were all of a pale gray in 
 the twilight. As they drove quietly along, they heard the 
 voices of people from time to time ; the occupants of the cot- 
 tages had come out for their evening stroll and chat. Sud- 
 denly, as they were passing certain hugh masses of rock that 
 sloped suddenly down to the sea, they heard another sound 
 — that of two or three boys calling out for help. The brief- 
 est glance showed what was going on. These boys were 
 standing on the rocks, staring fixedly at one of their compan- 
 ions who had fallen into the water and was wildly splashing 
 about, while all they could do to help him was to call for aid 
 at the pitch of their voices. 
 
 " That chap's drowning 1 " Trelyon said, jumping out of the 
 carriage. 
 
 The next minute he was out on the rocks, hastily pulling 
 off his coat. What was it he heard just as he plunged into 
 the sea — the agonized voice of a girl calling him back ? 
 
 Mrs. Rosewarne was at this moment staring at her daugh- 
 ter with almost a horror-stricken look en her face. Was it 
 really Wenna Rosewarne who had been so mean ; and what 
 madness possessed her to make her so ? The girl had hold 
 of her mother's arm with both her hands, and held it with the 
 grip of a vice ; while her white face was turned to the rocks 
 and the sea. 
 
 " Oh, mother ! " she cried, " it is only a boy, and he is a 
 man — and there is not another in all the world like him — " 
 
 " Wenna, is it you who are speaking ; or a devil ? The 
 boy is drowning ! " 
 
 But he was drowning no longer. He was laid hold of by 
 a strong arm, dragged in to the rocks, and there fished out 
 by his companions. Then Trelyon got up on the rocks, and 
 calmly looked at his dripping clothes. 
 
 " You are a nice little beast, you are ! " he said to the 
 
200 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 small boy, who had swallowed a good deal of salt water, but 
 was otherwise quite unhurt. " How do you expect I am 
 going home in these trousers ? Perhaps your mother'll pay 
 me for a new pair, eh ? And give you a jolly good thrashing 
 for tumbling in ? Here's a half-crown for you, you young 
 ruffian ; and if I catch you on these rocks again, I'll throw 
 you in and let you swim for it — see if I don't." 
 
 He walked up to the carriage, shaking himself, and putting 
 on his coat as he went, with great difficulty. 
 
 " Mrs. Rosewarne, I must walk back — I can't think of — " 
 
 He uttered a short cry. Wenna was lying as one dead in 
 her mother's arms, Mrs. Rosewarne vainly endeavoring to 
 revive her. He rushed down the rocks again to a pool, and 
 soaked his handkerchief in the water ; then he went hurriedly 
 back to the carriage, and put the cool handkerchief on her 
 temples and on her face. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Trelyon, do go away, or you will get your death 
 of cold ! " Mrs. Rosewarne said. " Leave Wenna to me. 
 See, there is a gentleman who will lend you his horse, and 
 you will get to your hotel directly." 
 
 He did not even answer her. His own face was about as 
 pale as that of the girl before him, and hers was that of a 
 corpse. But by and by strange tremors passed through her 
 frame ; her hands tightened their grip of her mother's arm, 
 and, with a sort of shudder, she opened her eyes and fearfully 
 looked around. She caught sight of the young man standing 
 there ; she scarcely seemed to recognize him for a moment. 
 And then, with a quick nervous action, she caught at his 
 hand and kissed it twice, hurriedly and wildly; then she 
 turned to her mother, hid her face in her bosom, and burst 
 into a flood of tears. Probably the girl scarcely knew all 
 that had taken place ; but her two companions, in silence, 
 and with a great apprehension filling their hearts, saw and rec- 
 ognized the story she had told. 
 
 "Mr. Trelyon," said Mrs, Rosewarne, "you must not re- 
 main here." 
 
 Mechanically he obeyed her. The gentleman who had 
 been riding along the road had dismounted, and, fearing 
 some accident had occurred, had come forward to offer his 
 assistance. When he was told how matters stood, he at once 
 gave Trelyon his horse to ride into Penzance ; and then the 
 carriage was driven off also, at a considerably less rapid pace. 
 
 That evening Trelyon, having got into warm clothes and 
 dined, went along to ask how Wenna was. His heart beat 
 hurriedly as he knocked at the door. He had intended 
 
MA B YN DREA MS. 20 1 
 
 merely making the inquiry, and coming away again ; but the 
 servant said that Mrs. Rosewarne wished to see him. 
 
 He went up-stairs, and found Mrs. Rosewarne alone. 
 These two looked at each other; that single glance told 
 everything. They were both aware of the secret that had 
 been revealed. 
 
 For an instant there was dead silence between them ; and 
 then Mrs. Rosewarne, with a great sadness in her voice, de- 
 spite its studied calmness, said — 
 
 " Mr. Trelyon, we need say nothing of what has occurred. 
 There are some things that are best not spoken of. But I 
 can trust to you not to seek to see Wenna before you leave 
 here. She is quite recovered — only a little nervous, you 
 know, and frightened. To-morrow she will be quite well 
 again." 
 
 " You will bid her good-bye for me," he said. 
 
 But for the tight clasp of the hand between these two, it 
 was an ordinary parting. He put on his hat and went out. 
 Perhaps it was the cold sea-air that made his face so pale. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 MABYN DREAMS. 
 
 "Yes, mother," said Mabyn, bursting into the room, 
 " here I am ; and Jennifer's down-stairs with my box ; and I 
 am to stay with you here for another week or a fortnight ; 
 and Wenna's to go back at once, for the whole world is con- 
 vulsed because of Mr. Trelyon's coming of age; and Mrs. 
 Trelyon has sent and taken all our spare rooms ; and father 
 says'Wenna must come back directly, for it's always ' Wenna, 
 do this,' and ' Wenna, do that ; ' and if Wenna isn't there, 
 of course the sky will tumble down on the earth — Mother, 
 what's the matter, and where's Wenna ? " 
 
 Mabyn was suddenly brought up in the middle of her vol- 
 uble speech by the strange expression on her mother's 
 face. 
 
 " Oh, Mabyn, something dreadful has happened to our 
 Wenna ! " 
 
 Mabyn turned deadly white. 
 
 " Is she ill ? " she said, almost in a whisper. 
 
 " No, not ill, but a great trouble has fallen on her." 
 
 Then the mother, in a low voice, apparently fearful that 
 
202 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 any one should overhear, b.egan to tell her younger daughter 
 of all she had learned within the past day or two — how 
 young Trelyon had been bold enough to tell Wenna that he 
 loved her ; how Wenna had dallied with her conscience and 
 been loth to part with him ; how at length she had as good 
 as revealed to him that she loved him in return ; and how 
 she was now overwhelmed and crushed beneath a sense of 
 her own faithlessness and the impossibility of making repar- 
 ation to her betrothed. 
 
 "Only to think, Mabyn," said the mother, in accents of 
 despair, " that all this distress should have come about in 
 such a quiet and unexpected way ! Who could have foreseen 
 it ? Why, of all people in the world, you would have 
 thought our Wenna was the least likely to have any misery 
 of this sort ; and many a time, don't you remember, I used 
 to say it was so wise of her getting engaged to a prudent and 
 elderly man, who would save her from the plagues and 
 trials that young girls often suffer at the hands of their 
 lovers. I thought she was so comfortably settled. Every- 
 thing promised her a quiet and gentle life. And now this 
 sudden shock has come upon her, she seems to think she is 
 not fit to live, and she goes on in such a wild way — " 
 
 " Where is she ? " Mabyn said, abruptly. 
 
 " No, no, no," the mother said, anxiously. " You must not 
 speak a word to her, Mabyn. You must not let her know I 
 have told you anything about it. Leave her to herself for 
 a while at least ; if you spoke to her, she would take it you 
 meant to accuse her ; for she says you warned her, and she 
 would pay no heed. Leave her to herself, Mabyn." 
 
 " Then where is Mr. Trelyon ? " said Mabyn, with some 
 touch of indignation in her voice. i( What is he doing ? Is 
 he leaving her to herself too ? " 
 
 " I clont know what you mean, Mabyn," her mother said, 
 timidly. 
 
 " Why doesn't he come forward like a man, and marry 
 her ? " said Mabyn, boldly. " Yes, that as what I would do, 
 if I were a man. She has sent him away ? Yes, of course. 
 That is right and proper. And Wenna will go on doing 
 what is right and proper, if you allow her, to the very end, 
 and the end will be a lifetime of misery, that's all. No, my 
 notion is that she should do something that is not right and 
 is quite improper, if only it makes her happy ; and you'll see 
 if I don't get her to do it. Why, mother, haven't you had 
 eyes to see that these two have been in love for years ? No- 
 bodv in the world had ever the least control over him but 
 
MAB YN DREAMS. 203 
 
 her ; he would do anything for Wenna ; and she — why, she 
 always came back singing after she had met and spoken to 
 him. And then you talk about a prudent and sensible hus- 
 band ! I don't want Wenna to marry a watchful, mean, old 
 stocking-darning cripple, who will creep about the house all 
 day, and peer into cupboards, and give her fourpence-half- 
 penny a week to live on. I want her to marry a man, one 
 that is strong enough to protect her ; and I tell you, mother — 
 I've said it before and I say it again — she shall not marry 
 Mr. Roscorla ! " 
 
 " Mabyn ! " said her mother, " you are getting madder than 
 ever. Your dislike to Mr. Roscorla is most unreasonable. A 
 cripple ! — why — " 
 
 " Oh, mother ! " Mabyn cried, with a bright light on her 
 face, " only think of our Wenna being married to Mr. Trelyon, 
 and how happy and pleased and pretty she would look as they 
 went walking together ! And then how proud he would be 
 to have so nice a wife ; and he would joke about her, and be 
 very impertinent, but he would simply worship her all the 
 same, and do everything he could to please her. And he 
 would take her away and show her all the beautiful places 
 abroad ; and he would have a yacht, too ; and he would give 
 her a fine house in London ; and don't you think our Wenna 
 would fascinate everybody with her mouse-like ways, and her 
 nice, small steps ? And if they did have any trouble, wouldn't 
 she be better to have somebody with her, not timid and anx- 
 ious and pettifogging, but somebody who wouldn't be cast 
 down, but make her as brave as himself ? " 
 
 Miss Mabyn was a shrewd young woman, and she saw that 
 her mother's quick, imaginative, sympathetic nature was being 
 captivated by this picture. She determined to have her as an 
 ally. 
 
 " And don't you see, mother, how it all lies within her reach ? 
 Harry Trelyon is in love with her — there was no need for him 
 to say so — I knew it long before he did. And she — why, she 
 has told him now that she cares for him; and if I were 
 he, I know what I'd do in his place. What is there in the 
 way ? Why, a — a sort of understanding — " 
 
 " A promise, Mabyn," said the mother. 
 
 " Well, a promise," said the girl, desperately, and coloring 
 somewhat. " But it was a promise given in ignorance — she 
 didn't know — how could she know ? Everybody knows that 
 such promises are constantly broken. If you are in love with 
 somebody else, what's the good of your keeping the promise ? 
 Now, mother, won't you argue with her ? See here. If she 
 
204 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 keeps her promise, there's three people miserable. If she 
 breaks it, there's only one — and I doubt whether he's got the 
 capacity to be miserable. That's two to one, or three to one, 
 is it ? Now will you argue with her, mother ? " 
 
 " Mabyn, Mabyn," the mother said, with a shake of her 
 head, but evidently pleased with the voice of the tempter, 
 " your fancy has run away with you. Why, Mr. Trelyon has 
 never proposed to marry her." 
 
 " I know he wants to," said Mabyn, confidently. 
 
 " How can you know ? " 
 
 " I'll ask him and prove it to you." 
 
 "Indeed," said the mother, sadly, "it is no thought of mar- 
 riage that is in Wenna's head just now. The poor girl is full 
 of remorse and apprehension. I think she would like to start 
 at once for Jamaica, and fling herself at Mr. Roscorla's feet, 
 and confess her fault. I am glad she has to go back to Eg- 
 losilyan ; that may distract her mind in a measure ; at present 
 she is suffering more than she shows." 
 
 " Where is she ? " 
 
 " In her own room, tired out and fast asleep. I looked in 
 a few minutes ago." 
 
 Mabyn went up-stairs, after having seen that Jennifer had 
 properly bestowed her box. Wenna had just risen from the 
 sofa, and was standing in the middle of the room. Her 
 younger and taller sister went blithely forward to her, kissed 
 her as usual, took no notice of the sudden flush of red that 
 sprang into her face, and proceeded to state, in a business- 
 like fashion, all the arrangements that had to be made. 
 
 " Have you been enjoying yourself, Wenna ? " Mabyn said, 
 with a fine air of indifference. 
 
 " Oh yes," Wenna answered ; adding hastily, " don't you 
 think mother is greatly improved ? " 
 
 " Wonderfully. I almost forgot she was an invalid. How 
 lucky you are to be going back to see all the fine doings at the 
 Hall ; of course they will ask you up." 
 
 " They will do nothing of the kind," Wenna said, with some 
 asperity, and with her face turned aside. 
 
 " Lord and Lady Amersham have already come to the Hall." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! " 
 
 " Yes ; they said some time ago that there was a good 
 chance of Mr. Trelyon marrying the daughter — the tall girl 
 with the yellow hair, you remember ? " 
 
 " And the stooping shoulders ? yes. I should think they 
 would be glad to get her married to anybody. She's thirty." 
 
 "Oh, Wenna!" 
 
MABYN DREAMS. 205 
 
 " Mr. Trelyon told me so," said Wenna, sharply. 
 
 " And they are a little surprised," continued Mabyn, in 
 the same indifferent way, but watching her sister all the 
 while, " that Mr. Trelyon has remained absent until so near 
 the time. But I suppose he means to take Miss Penakina 
 with him. She lives here, doesn't she ? They used to say 
 there was a chance of a marriage there, too." 
 
 " Mabyn, what do you mean ? " Wenna said, suddenly and 
 angrily. " What do I care about Mr. Trelyon's marriage ? 
 What is it you mean ? " 
 
 But the firmness of her lips began to yield ; there was an 
 ominous trembling about them ; and at the same moment 
 her younger sister caught her to her bosom, and hid her face 
 there, and hushed her wild sobbing. She would hear no 
 confession. She knew enough. Nothing would convince 
 her that Wenna had done anything wrong ; so there was no 
 use speaking about it. 
 
 "Wenna," she said, in a low voice, "have you sent him 
 any message ? " 
 
 " Oh no, no," the girl said, trembling. " I fear even to 
 think of him ; and when you mentioned his name, Mabyn, it 
 seemed to choke me. And now I have to go back to Eglo- 
 silyan ; and, oh ! if you only knew how I dread that, 
 Mabyn!" 
 
 Mabyn's conscience was struck. She it was who had done 
 this thing. She had persuaded her father that her mother 
 needed another week or fortnight at Penzance ; she had 
 frightened him by telling him what bother he would suffer if 
 Wenna were not back at the inn during the festivities at 
 Trelyon Hall ;^and then she had offered to go and take her 
 sister's post. " George Rosewarne was heartily glad to ex- 
 change the one daughter for the other. Mabyn was too inde- 
 pendent. She thwarted him ; sometimes she insisted on his 
 bestirring himself. Wenna, on the other hand, went about 
 the place like some invisible spirit of order, making every- 
 thing comfortable for him, without noise or worry. He was 
 easily led to issue the necessary orders ; and so it was that 
 Mabyn thought she was doing her sister a friendly turn by 
 sending her back to Eglosilyan in order to join in congratu- 
 lating Harry Trelyon on his entrance into man's estate. 
 Now Mabyn found that she had only plunged her sister into 
 deeper trouble. 
 
 What could be done to save her ? 
 
 " Wenna," said Mabyn, rather timidly, " do you think he 
 has left Penzance ? " 
 
20 6 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 Wenna turned to her with a sudden look of entreaty in her 
 face. 
 
 " I cannot bear to speak of him, Mabyn. I have no right 
 to— I hope you will not ask me. Just now I — I am going to 
 write a letter — to Jamaica. I shall tell the whole truth. It 
 is for him to say what must happen now. I have done him a 
 great injury. I did not intend it ; I had no thought of it ; 
 but my own folly and thoughtlessness-brought it about, and" I 
 have to bear the penalty. I don't think he need be anxious 
 about punishing me." 
 
 She turned away with a tired look on her face, and began 
 to get out her writing materials. Mabyn watched her for a 
 moment or two in silence ; then she left and went to her 
 own room, saying to herself, " Punishment ! Whoever talks 
 of punishment will have to address himself to me." 
 
 When she got to her own room, she wrote these words on 
 apiece of paper — in her firm, bold, free hand — " A friend 
 would like to see you for a minute in front of the Post-office in 
 the middle of the town:' She put that in an envelope, and ad- 
 dressed the envelope to Harry Trelyon, Esq. Still keeping 
 her bonnet on, she went down-stairs, and had a little general 
 conversation with her mother, in the course of which she 
 quite casually asked the name of the hotel at which Mr. Trel- 
 yon had been staying. Then, just as if she were going out 
 to the Parade to have a look at the sea, she carelessly left 
 the house. 
 
 The dusk of the evening was growing to dark. A white 
 mist lay over the sea. The solitary lamps were being lit 
 along the Parade— each golden star shining sharply in the 
 pale purple twilight ; but a more confused glow of orange 
 showed where the little town was busy in its narrow thorough- 
 fares. She got hold of a small boy, gave him the letter, six- 
 pence, and his instructions. He was to ask if the gentleman 
 were in the hotel. If not, had he left Penzance, or would he 
 return that night ? In any case the boy was not to leave the 
 letter unless Mr. Trelyon were there. 
 
 The small boy returned in a couple of minutes. The gen- 
 tleman was there, and had taken the letter. So Mabyn at 
 once set out for the centre of the town, and soon found her- 
 self in among a mass of huddled houses, bright shops, and 
 thoroughfares pretty well filled with strolling sailors, women 
 getting home from market, and townspeople come out to 
 gossip. She had accurately judged that she would be less 
 observed in this busy little place than out on the Parade ; 
 and as it was the first appointment she had ever made 
 
MABYN DREAMS. 207 
 
 to meet a young gentleman alone, she was just a little 
 nervous. 
 
 Trelyon was there. He had recognized the handwriting in 
 a moment. He had no time to ridicule or even to think of 
 Mabyn's school-girl affectation of secrecy ; he had at once 
 rushed off to the place of appointment, and that by a short 
 cut of which she had no knowledge. 
 
 " Mabyn, what's the matter ? Is Wenna ill ? " he said — for- 
 getting in his anxiety even to shake hands with her. 
 
 " Oh no, she isn't," said Mabyn, rather coldly and defiantly. 
 If he was in love with her sister, it was for him to make ad- 
 vances. 
 
 " Oh no, she's pretty well, thank you," continued Mabyn, 
 indifferently. " But she never could stand much worry. I 
 wanted to see you about that. She is going back to Eglosil- 
 yan to-morrow; and you must promise not to have her asked 
 up to the Hall while these grand doings are going on — you 
 must not try to see her and persuade her — if you could keep 
 out of her way altogether — " 
 
 " You know all about it, then, Mabyn ? " he said, suddenly ; 
 and even in the dusky light of the street she could see the 
 rapid look of gladness that filled his face. " And you are 
 not going to be vexed, eh ? You'll remain friends with me, 
 Mabyn — you will tell me how she is from time to time. 
 Don't you see I must go away — and, by Jove, Mabyn, I've 
 got such a lot to tell you ! " 
 
 She looked around. 
 
 " I'can't talk to you here. Won't you walk back by the 
 other road behind the town ? " he said. 
 
 Yes, she would go willingly with him now. The anxiety of 
 his face, the almost wild way in which he seemed to beg for 
 her help and friendship, the mere impatience of his manner 
 pleased and satisfied her. This was as it should be. Here 
 was no sweetheart by line and rule, demonstrating his affec- 
 tion by argument, acting at all times with a studied pro- 
 priety ; but a real, true lover, full of passionate hope and as 
 passionate fear, ready to do anything, and yet not knowing 
 what to do. Above all he was "brave and handsome, like a 
 prince ! " and therefore a fit lover for her gentle sister. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Trelyon," she said, with a great burst of confi- 
 dence, " I did so fear that you might be indifferent ! " 
 
 "Indifferent ! " said he, with some bitterness. " Per- 
 haps that is the best thing that could happen ; only it isn't very 
 likely to happen. Did you ever see anybody placed as I am 
 placed, Mabyn ? Nothing but stumbling-blocks every way I 
 
2o3 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 look. Our family have always been hot-headed and hot-tem- 
 pered ; if I told my grandmother at this minute how I am 
 situated, I believe she would say, ' Why don't you go like a 
 man, and run off with the girl ? ' — " 
 
 " Yes ! " said Mabyn, quite delighted. 
 
 " But suppose you've bothered and worried the girl until 
 you feel ashamed of yourself, and she begs of you to leave 
 her, aren't you bound in fair manliness to go ? " 
 
 " I don't know," said Mabyn, doubtfully. 
 
 " Well, I do. It would be very mean to pester her. I'm 
 off as soon as these people leave the Hall. But then there 
 are other things. There is your sister engaged to this 
 fellow out in Jamaica — " 
 
 " Isn't he a horried wretch ! " said Mabyn between her 
 teeth. 
 
 " Oh, I quite agree with you. If I could have it out with 
 him now — but after all, what harm has the man done ? Is 
 it any wonder he wanted to get Wenna for a wife ? " 
 
 "Oh, but he cheated her," said Mabyn, warmly. "He 
 persuaded her, and reasoned with her, and argued her into 
 marrying him. And what business had he to tell her that 
 love between young people is all bitterness and trial ; and 
 that a girl is only safe when she marries a prudent and elderly 
 man who will look after her ? Why, it is to look after him 
 that he wants her. Wenna is going to him as a housekeeper 
 and a nurse. Only — only, Mr. Trelyon, she hasn't gone to 
 him just yet /" 
 
 " Oh, I don't think he did anything unfair," the young man 
 said, gloomily. " It doesn't matter anyhow. What I was 
 going to say is that my grandmother's notion of what one of 
 our family ought to do in such a case can't be carried out : 
 whatever you may think of a man, you can't go and try to rob 
 him of his sweetheart behind his back. Even supposing she 
 was willing to break with him, which she is not, you've at 
 least got to wait to give the fellow a chance." 
 
 " There I quite disagree with you, Mr. Trelyon," Mabyn 
 said, warmly. "Wait to give him a chance to make our 
 Wenna miserable ? Is she to be made the prize of a sort of 
 fight ? If I were a man, I'd pay less attention to my own 
 scruples and try what I could do for her— Oh, Mr. Trelyon 
 — I — I beg your pardon." 
 
 Mabyn suddenly stopped on the road, overwhelmed with 
 confusion. She had been so warmly thinking of her sister's 
 welfare that she had been hurried into something worse than 
 an indiscretion. 
 
MABYN DREAMS. 209 
 
 " What, then, Mabyn ? " said he, profoundly surprised. 
 
 " I beg your pardon. I have been so thoughtless. I had 
 no right to assume that you wished — that you wished for the 
 — for the opportunity — " 
 
 " Of marrying Wenna ? " said he, with a great stare. " But 
 what else have we been speaking about ? Or rather, I sup- 
 pose we did assume it. Well, the more I think of it, Mabyn, 
 the more I am maddened by all these obstacles, and by the 
 notion of all the things that may happen. That's the bad 
 part of my going away. How can I tell what may happen ? 
 He might come back, and insist on her marrying him right 
 off." 
 
 " Mr. Trelyon," said Mabyn, speaking very clearly, " there's 
 one thing you may be sure of. If you let me know where 
 you are, nothing will happen to Wenna that you don't hear of." 
 
 He took her hand, and pressed it in mute thankfulness. He 
 was not insensible to the value of having so warm an advocate, 
 so faithful an ally, always at Wenna's side. 
 
 " How long do letters take in going to Jamaica ? " Mabyn 
 asked. 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 " I could fetch him back for you directly," said she, " if 
 you would like that." 
 
 " How ? " 
 
 " By writing and telling him that you and Wenna were go- 
 ing to get married. Wouldn't that fetch him back pretty 
 quickly ? " 
 
 " I doubt it. He wouldn't believe it of Wenna. Then he 
 is a sensible sort of fellow, and would say to himself that, if 
 the news was true, he would have his journey for nothing. 
 Besides, Barnes says that things are looking well with him in 
 Jamaica — better than anybody expected. He might not be 
 anxious to leave." 
 
 They had now got back to the Parade, and Mabyn stopped. 
 
 "I must leave you now, Mr. Trelyon. Mind not to go 
 near Wenna when you get to Eglosilyan — " 
 
 " She sha'n't even see me. I shall be there only a couple 
 of days or so ; then I am going to London. I am going to 
 have a try at the Civil Service examinations — for first com- 
 missions, you know. I shall only come back to Eglosilyan 
 for a day now and again at long intervals. You have 
 promised' to write to me, Mabyn — well, I'll send you my 
 address." 
 
 She looked at laim keenly as she offered him her hand. 
 
210 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " I wouldn't be downhearted if I were you," she said. 
 "Very odd things sometimes happen." 
 
 " Oh, I sha'n't be downhearted," said he, " so long as I hear 
 that she is all right, and not vexing herself about anything." 
 
 "Good-bye, Mr. Trelyon, I am sorry I can't take any 
 message for you." 
 
 " To her ? No, that is impossible. Good-bye, Mabyn ; I 
 think you are the best friend I have in the world." 
 
 " We'll see about that," she said, as she walked rapidly off. 
 
 Her mother had been sufficiently astonished by her long 
 absence ; she was now equally surprised by the excitement 
 and pleasure visible in her face. 
 
 " Oh, mammy, do you know whom I've seen ? Mr. Trel- 
 yon ! 
 
 " Mabyn ! " 
 
 " Yes. We've walked right around Penzance — all by our- 
 selves. And it's all settled, mother." 
 
 " What is all settled ? " 
 
 "The understanding between him and me. An offensive 
 and defensive alliance. Let tyrants beware ! " 
 
 She took off her bonnet, and came and sat down on the 
 floor by the side of the sofa. 
 
 " Oh, mammy, I see such beautiful things in the future — 
 you wouldn't believe it if I told you all I see ! Everybody 
 else seems determined to forecast such gloomy events— there's 
 Wenna crying and writing letters of contrition, and expecting 
 all sorts of anger and scolding ; there's Mr. Trelyon, haunted 
 by the notion that Mr. Roscorla will suddenly come home 
 and marry Wenna right off ; and as for him out there in Ja- 
 maica, I expect he'll be in a nice state when he hears of all 
 this. But far on a head of all that I see such a beautiful pic- 
 ture—" 
 
 " It is a dream of yours, Mabyn," her mother said ; but 
 there was an imaginative light in her fine eyes, too. 
 
 "No, it is not a dream, mother; for there are so many 
 people all wishing now that it should come about, in spite of 
 of these gloomy fancies. What is there to prevent it, when 
 we are all agreed ? Mr. Trelyon and I heading the list with 
 our important alliance ; and you, mother, would be so proud 
 to see Wenna happy ; and Mrs. Trelyon pets her as if she 
 were a daughter already, and everybody — every man, woman, 
 and child in Eglosilyan would rather see that come about 
 than get a guinea apiece. Oh, mother, if you could see the 
 picture that I see just now — " 
 
 " It is a pretty picture, Mabyn," her mother said, shaking 
 
FERN - IN DIE WEL T. 2 r r 
 
 her head. " But when you think of everybody being agreed, 
 you forget one, and that is Wenna herself. Whatever she 
 thinks fit and right to do, that she is certain to do, and all 
 your alliances and friendly wishes won't alter her decision, 
 even if it should break her heart. And, indeed, I hope the 
 poor child won't sink under the terrible sixain that is on her : 
 what do you think of her looks, Mabyn ? " 
 
 "They want mending; yes, they want mending," Mabyn 
 admitted, apparently with some compunction ; but then she 
 added, boldly, " and you know as well as I do, mother, that 
 there is but the one way of mending them J " 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 FERN IN DIE WELT. 
 
 If this story were not tied by its title to the Duchy of 
 Cornwall, it might be interesting enough to follow Mr. Ros- 
 corla into the new world that had opened all around him, 
 and say something of the sudden shock his old habits had 
 thus received, and of the quite altered views of his own life 
 he had been led to form. As matters stand, we can only 
 pay him a flying visit. 
 
 He is seated in a veranda, fronting a garden, in which 
 pomegranates and oranges form the principal fruit Down 
 below him some blacks are bringing provisions up to Yacca 
 Farm, along the cactus avenue leading to the gate. Far 
 away on his right, the last rays of the sun are shining on the 
 summit of Blue Mountain Peak*, and along the horizon the 
 reflected glow of the sky shines on the calm sea. It is a 
 fine, still evening ; his cigar smells sweet in the air ; it is a 
 time for indolent dreaming and for memories of home. 
 
 But Mr. Roscorla is not so much enraptured by thoughts 
 of home as he might be. 
 
 " Why," he is saying to himself, " my life in Basset Cot- 
 tage was no life at all, but only a waiting for death. Day 
 after day passed in that monotonous fashion ; what had one 
 to look forward to but old age, sickness, and then the quiet 
 of a coffin ? It was nothing but an hourly procession to the 
 grave, varied by rabbit-shooting. This bold breaking away 
 from the narrow life of such a place has given me a new 
 lease of existence. Now I can look back with surprise on 
 the dulness of that Cornish village, and on the regularity of 
 
2X2 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 habits which I did not know were habits. For is not that 
 always the case ? You don't know that you are forming a 
 habit ; you take each act to be an individual act, which you 
 may perform or not at will ; but all the same the succession 
 of them is getting you into its power, custom gets a grip of 
 your ways of thinkyig as well as your ways of living ; the 
 habit is formed, and it does not cease its hold until it con- 
 ducts you to the grave. Try Jamaica for a cure. Fling a 
 sleeping man into the sea, and watch if he does not wake. 
 Why, when I look back to the slow, methodical, commonplace 
 life I led at Eglosilyan, can I wonder that I was sometimes 
 afraid of Wenna Rosewarne regarding me as a staid and ven- 
 erable person, on whose infirmities she ought to take pity ? " 
 
 He rose and began to walk up and down the veranda, 
 putting his foot down firmly. His loose linen suit was smart 
 enough ; his complexion had been improved by the sun. 
 The consciousness that his business affairs were promising 
 well did not lessen his sense of self-importance. 
 
 "Wenna must be prepared to move about a bit when I 
 go back," he was saying to himself. " She must give up 
 that daily attendance on cottagers' children. If all turns out 
 well, I don't see why we should not live in London ; for who 
 will know there who her father was ? That consideration was 
 of no consequence so long as I looked forward to living the 
 rest of my life in Basset Cottage ; now there are other things 
 to be thought of when there is a chance of my going among 
 my old friends again." 
 
 By this time, it must be observed, Mr. Roscorla had aban- 
 doned his hasty intention of returning to England to upbraid 
 Wenna with having received a ring from Harry Trelyon. 
 After all, he reasoned with himself, the mere fact that she 
 should talk thus simply and frankly about young Trelyon 
 showed that, so far as she was concerned, her loyalty to her 
 absent lover was unbroken. As for the young gentleman 
 himself, he was, Mr. Roscorla knew, fond of joking. He had 
 doubtless thought it a fine thing to make a fool of two or 
 three women by imposing on them this cock-and-bull story of 
 finding a ring by dredging. He was a little angry that 
 Wenna should have been deceived ; but then, he reflected, 
 these gypsy rings are so much like one another that, the 
 young man had probably got a pretty fair duplicate. For the 
 rest, he did not want to quarrel with Harry Trelyon at 
 present. 
 
 But as he was walking up and down this veranda, looking 
 a much younger and brisker man than the Mr. Roscorla who 
 
FERN IN DIE WELT. 213 
 
 had left Eglosilyan, a servant came through the house and 
 brought him a couple of letters. He saw they were respect- 
 ively from Mr. Barnes and from Wenna ; and, curiously 
 enough, he opened the reverend gentleman's first — perhaps 
 as school-boys like to leave the best bit of a tart to the last. 
 
 He read the letter over carefully ; he sat down and read it 
 again ; then he put it before him on the table. He was 
 evidently puzzled by it. 
 
 " What does this man mean by writing these letters to 
 me ? " — so Mr. Roscorla, who was a cautious and reflective 
 person, communed with himself. " He is no particular friend 
 of mine. He must be driving at something. Now he says 
 I am to be of good cheer. I must not think anything of 
 what he formerly wrote. Mr. Trelyon is leaving Eglosilyan 
 for good, and his mother will at last have some peace of 
 mind. What a pity it is that this sensitive creature should 
 be at the mercy of the rude passions of this son of hers — that 
 she should have no protector — that she should be allowed to 
 mope herself to death in a melancholy seclusion." 
 
 An odd fancy occurred to Mr. Roscorla at this moment, 
 and he smiled. 
 
 " I think I have got a clew to Mr. Barnes's disinterested 
 anxiety about my affairs. The widower would like to pro- 
 tect the solitary and unfriended widow ; but the young man 
 is in the way. The young man would be very much in the 
 way if he married Wenna Rosewarne ; the widower's fears 
 drive him into suspicion, then .into certainty ; nothing will do 
 but that I should return to England at once, and spoil this 
 little arrangement. But as soon as Harry Trelyon declares 
 his intention of leaving Eglosilyan for good, then my affairs 
 may go anyhow. Mr. Barnes finds the coast clear; I am 
 bidden to stay where I am. Well, that is what I mean to do ; 
 but now I fancy I understand Mr. Barnes's generous friend- 
 ship for me and his affectionate correspondence." 
 
 He turned to Wenna's letter with much compunction. He 
 owed her some atonement for having listened to the disin- 
 genuous reports of this scheming clergyman. How could he 
 have so far forgotten the firm, uncompromising rectitude of 
 the gill's character, her sensitive notions of honor, the prom- 
 ises she had given ? 
 
 He read the letter, and as he read his eyes seemed to grow 
 hot with rage. He paid no heed to the passionate contrition 
 of the trembling lines ; to the obvious pain that she had en- 
 dured in telling the story, without concealment, against her- 
 self; to the utter and abject wretchedness with which she 
 
214 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 awaited his decision. It was thus she had kept faith with 
 him the moment his back was turned. Such were the safe- 
 guards afforded by a woman's sense of honor. What a fool 
 he had been to imagine that any woman could remain true to 
 her promise so soon as some other object of flirtation and in- 
 cipient love-making came in her way ! 
 
 He looked at the letter again : he could scarcely believe it 
 to be in her handwriting. This the quiet, reasonable, gentle, 
 and timid Wenna Rosewarne, whose virtues were almost a 
 trifle too severe ? The despair and remorse over the letter 
 did not touch him — he was too angry and indignant over the 
 insult to himself — but it astonished him. The passionate 
 emotion of those closely written pages he could scarcely con- 
 nect with the shy, frank, kindly little girl he remembered ; it 
 was a cry of agony from a tortured woman, and he knew at 
 least that for her the old, quiet time was over. 
 
 He knew not what to do. All this that had happened was 
 new to him ; it was old and gone by in England, anc] who 
 could tell what further complications might have arisen ? But 
 his anger required some vent ; he went indoors, called for a 
 lamp, and sat down and wrote, with a hard and resolute look 
 on his face : 
 
 " I have received your letter. I am not surprised. You 
 are a woman ; and I ought to have known that a woman's 
 promise is of value so long as you are by her side to see that 
 she keeps it. You ask what reparation you can make ; I ask 
 if there is any that you can suggest. No ; you have done 
 what cannot be undone. Do you think a man would marry 
 a woman who is in love with, or has been in love with another 
 man, even if he could overlook her breach of faith and the 
 shameless thoughtlessness of her conduct ? My course is 
 clear, at all events. I give you back the promise that you 
 did not know how to keep ; and now you can go and ask 
 the young man who has been making a holiday toy of you 
 whether he will be pleased to marry you. 
 
 " Richard Roscorla." 
 
 He sealed and addressed this letter, still with the firm, hard 
 look about his face ; then he summoned a servant — a tall, 
 red-haired Irishman. He did not hesitate for a moment. 
 
 " Look here, Sullivan, the English mails go out to-morrow 
 morning — you must ride down to the Post-office, as hard as 
 you can go ; and if you're a few minutes late, see Mr. Keith, 
 and give him my compliments, and ask him if he can possi- 
 
FERN IN DTE WELT. 2:5 
 
 bly take this letter if the mails are not made up. It is of great 
 importance. Quick now ! " 
 
 He watched the man go clattering down the cactus avenue 
 until he was out of sight. Then he turned, put the letters in 
 his pocket, went indoors, and again struck a small gong that 
 did duty for a bell. He wanted his horse brought around at 
 once. He was going over to Pleasant Farm ; probably he 
 would not return that night. He lit another cigar and paced 
 up and down the gravel in front of the house until the horse was 
 brought around. 
 
 When he reached Pleasant Farm the stars were shining 
 overhead, and the odors of the night-flowers came floating 
 out of the forest ; but inside the house there were brilliant 
 lights and the voices of men talking. A bachelor supper- 
 party was going forward. Mr. Roscorla entered, and pres- 
 ently was seated at the hospitable board. 
 
 They had never seen him so gay ; and they had certainly 
 never seen him so generously inclined, for Mr. Roscorla was 
 economical in his habits. He would have them all to dinner 
 the next evening, and promised them such champagne as had 
 never been sent to Kingston before. He passed around his 
 best cigars; he hinted something about unlimited loo; he 
 drank pretty freely ; and was altogether in a jovial humor. 
 
 " England ? " he said, when some one mentioned the mother 
 country. " Of one thing I am pretty certain — England will 
 never see me again. No — a man lives here; in England he 
 waits for his death. What life I have got before me I shall 
 live in Jamaica — that is my view of the question." 
 
 " Then she is coming out to you ? " said his host, with a 
 grin. 
 
 Roscorla's face flushed with anger. 
 
 " There is no she in the matter," he said, abruptly, almost 
 fiercely. " I thank God I am not tied to any woman." 
 
 " Oh, I beg your pardon," said his host, good-naturedly, 
 who did not care to recall the occasions on which Mr. Ros- 
 corla had been rather pleased to admit that certain tender ties 
 bound him to his native land. 
 
 " No, there is not ! " he said. " What fool would have his 
 comfort and peace of mind depend on the caprice of a woman ? 
 I like your plan better, Rogers : when they're dependent on 
 you, you can do as you like ; but when they've got to be 
 treated as equals, they're the devil. No, my boys, you don't 
 find me going in for the angel in the house — she's too exact- 
 ing. Is it to be unlimited ? " 
 
 Now, to play unlimited loo in a reckless fashion is about 
 
2l6 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 the easiest way of getting rid of money that the ingenuity of 
 man has devised. The other players were much better qual- 
 ified to run such risks than Mr. Roscorla ; but none played 
 half so wildly as he. I.O.U.'s went freely about. At one 
 point in the evening the floating paper bearing the signature 
 of Mr. Roscorla represented a sum of about ^300; and yet 
 his losses did not weigh heavily on him. At length every one 
 got tired, and it was resolved to stop short at a certain hour. 
 But from this point the luck changed ; nothing could stand 
 against his cards ; one by one -his I.O.U.'s were recalled ; 
 and when they all rose from the table he had won about £$>. 
 He was not elated. 
 
 He went to his room, and sat down in an easy-chair ; and 
 then it seemed to him that lie saw Eglosilyan once more, and 
 the far coasts of Cornwall, and the broad uplands lying un- 
 der a blue English sky. That was his home, and he had cut 
 himself away from it, and from the little glimmer of romance 
 that had recently brightened it for him. Every bit of the 
 place, too, was associated somehow with Wenna Rosewarne. 
 He could see the seat, fronting the Atlantic, on which she 
 used to sit and sew on the fine summer forenoons. He could 
 see the rough road, leading over the downs, on which he met 
 her one wintry morning, she wrapped up and driving her 
 father's dog-cart, while the red sun in the sky seemed to 
 brighten the pink color the cold wind had brought into her 
 cheeks. He thought of her walking sedately up to church ; 
 of her wild scramblings among the rocks with Mabyn ; of her 
 enjoyment of a fierce wind when it came laden with the spray 
 of the great rollers breaking on the cliff outside. What was 
 the song she used to sing to herself as she went along the 
 quietTwood-land ways ? — 
 
 " Your Polly has never been false, she declares, 
 Since last time we parted at Wapping Old Stairs." 
 
 He could not let her go. All the anger of wounded vanity 
 had left his heart ; he thought now only of the chance he was 
 throwing away. Where else could he hope to find for him- 
 self so pleasant a companion and friend, who would cheer 
 up his dull daily life with her warm sympathies, her quick 
 humor, her winning womanly ways ? 
 
 He thought of that letter he had sent away, and cursed 
 his own folly. So long as she was bound by her promise, 
 he knew he could marry her when he pleased ; but now he had 
 voluntarily released her. In a couple of weeks she would 
 hold her manumission in her hands ; the past would no longer 
 
FERN IN DIE WELT. 217 
 
 have any power over her ; if ever they met, they would meet 
 as mere acquaintances. Every moment the prize slipping out 
 of his grasp seemed to grow more valuable ; his vexation with 
 himself grew intolerable ; he suddenly resolved that he would 
 make a wild effort to get back that fatal letter. 
 
 He had sat communing with himself for over an hour ; all 
 the household was fast asleep. He would not wake any one, 
 for fear of being compelled to give explanations ; so he noise- 
 lessly crept along the dark passages until he got to the door, 
 which he carefully opened and let himself out. The night 
 was wonderfully clear ; the constellations throbbing and glit- 
 tering overhead ; the trees were black against the pale sky. 
 
 He made his way around to the stables, and had some sort 
 of notion that he would try to get at his horse, until it occur- 
 red to him that some suddenly awakened servant or master 
 would probably send a bullet whizzing at him. So he aban- 
 doned that enterprise and set off to walk, as quickly as he 
 could, down the slopes of the mountain, with the stars still 
 shining over his head, the air sweet with powerful scents, 
 the leaves of the bushes hanging silently in the semi-dark- 
 ness. 
 
 How long he walked he did not know ; he was not aware 
 that, when he reached the sleeping town, a pale gray was 
 lightening the eastern skies. He went to the house of the 
 post master, and hurriedly aroused him. Mr. Keith began to 
 think that the ordinarily sedate Mr. Roscorla had gone mad. 
 
 " But I must have the letter," he said. " Come now, Keith, 
 you can give it me back if you like. Of course, I know it is 
 very wrong ; but you'll do it to oblige a friend — " 
 
 "My dear sir," said the postmaster, who could not get 
 time for explanation, " the mails were made up last night — " 
 
 " Yes, yes ; but you can open the English bag." 
 
 " They were sent on board last night." 
 
 " Then the packet is still in the harbor ; you might come 
 down with me — " 
 
 " She sails at daybreak — " 
 
 " It is not daybreak yet," said Mr. Roscorla, looking up. 
 
 Then he saw how the gray dawn had come over the skies, 
 banishing the stars, and he became aware of the wan light 
 shining around him. With the new day his life was altered ; 
 he would no more be as he had been ; the chief aim and pur- 
 pose of his existence had been changed. 
 
 Walking heedlessly back, he came to a point from which 
 he had a distant view of the harbor and the sea beyond. Far 
 away out on the dull gray plain was a steamer slowly making 
 
2i8 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 her way towards the east. Was that the packet bound for 
 England, carrying to Wenna Rosewarne the message that she 
 was free ? 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 " BLUE IS THE SWEETEST." 
 
 The following correspondence may now, without any great 
 breach of confidence, be published : 
 
 " Eglosilyan, Monday morning. 
 " Dear Mr. Trelyon, — 
 
 " Do you know what Mr. Roscorla says in the letter Wenna 
 has just received ? Why, that you could not get up that ring 
 by dredging, but that you must have bought the ring at Plym- 
 outh. Just think of the wicked old wretch fancying such 
 things ; as if you would give a ring of emeralds to any one ! 
 Tell me that this is a story, that I may bid Wenna contradict 
 him at once. I have got no patience with a man who is given 
 over to such mean suspicions. Yours faithfully, 
 
 " Dear Mabyn, — 
 
 Mabyn Rosewarne." 
 " London, Tuesday night. 
 
 " 1 am sorry to say Mr. Roscorla is right. It was a foolish 
 trick — I did not think it would be successful, for my hitting 
 the size of her finger was rather a stroke of luck ; but I thought 
 it would amuse her if she did find it out after an hour or two. 
 I was afraid to tell her afterwards, for she would think it im 
 pertinent. What's to be done ? Is she angry about it ? 
 " Yours sincerely, 
 
 " Harry Trelyon." 
 
 "Eglosilyan. 
 " Dear Mr. Trelyon, — 
 
 " How could you do such a thing ! Why, to give Wenna, 
 of all people in the world, an emerald ring, just after I had 
 got Mr. Roscorla to give her one, for bad luck to himself ! 
 Why, how could you do it ! I don't know what to say about 
 it — unless you demand it back, and send her one with sapphires 
 if i it at once. Yours, 
 
 " M.R. 
 
 " P. S. — As quick as ever you can. 1 * 
 
"BLUE IS THE SWEETEST:' 219 
 
 " London, Friday morning. 
 
 " Dear Mabyn, — 
 
 "Why, you know she wouldn't take a sapphire ring or any 
 other from me. Yours faithfully, 
 
 " H. Trelyon." 
 " My dear Mr. Trelyon, — 
 
 " Pray don't lose any time in writing; but send me at once 
 a sapphire ring for Wenna. You have hit the size once, and 
 you can do it again ; but, in any case, I have marked the 
 size on this bit of thread, and the jeweller will understand. 
 And please, dear Mr. Trelyon, don't get a very expensive 
 one, but a plain, good one, just like what a poor person like 
 me would buy for a present if I wanted to. And post it at 
 once, please — this is very important. 
 
 " Yours most sincerely, 
 
 " Mabyn Rosewarne." 
 
 In consequence of this correspondence, Mabyn, one morn- 
 ing, proceeded to seek out her sister, whom she found busy 
 with the accounts of the Sewing Club, which was now in a 
 flourishing condition. Mabyn seemed a little shy. 
 
 " Oh, Wenna," she said, " I have something to tell you. 
 You know I wrote to ask Mr. Trelyon about the ring. Well, 
 he's very, very sorry — oh, you don't know how sorry he is, 
 Wenna ! — but it's quite true. He thought he would please 
 you by getting the ring, and that you would make a joke of it 
 when you found it out ; and then he was afraid to speak of it 
 afterwards — " 
 
 Wenna had quietly slipped the ring off her finger. She 
 betrayed no emotion at the mention of Mr. Trelyon's name. 
 Her face was a trifle red, that was all. 
 
 " It was a stupid thing to do," she said, " but I suppose he 
 meant no harm. Will you send him back the ring ? " 
 
 " Yes," she said, eagerly. " Give me the ring, Wenna." 
 
 She carefully wrapped it up in a piece of paper, and put it 
 in her pocket. Any one who knew her would have seen by 
 her face that she meant to give that ring short shift. Then 
 she said timidly — 
 
 " You are not very angry, Wenna ? " 
 
 " No. I am sorry I should have vexed Mr. Roscorla by my 
 carelessness." 
 
 " Wenna," the younger sister continued, even more timidly, 
 " do you know what I've heard about rings — that when you've 
 worn one for some time on a finger, you ought never to leave 
 it off altogether ; I think it affects the circulation — or some- 
 thing of that kind. Now, if Mr. Trelyon were to send you 
 
220 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 another ring, just to — to keep the place of that one until Mr. 
 Roscorla came back — " 
 
 " Mabyn, you must be mad to think of such a thing," said 
 her sister, looking down. 
 
 " Oh yes," Mabyn said, meekly, " I thought you wouldn't 
 like the notion of Mr. Trelyon giving you a ring. And so, 
 dear Wenna, I've — I've got a ring for you — you won't mind 
 taking it from me ; and if you do wear it on the engaged fin- 
 ger, why, that doesn't matter, don't you see — " 
 
 She produced the ring of dark blue stones, and herself put 
 it on Wenna's finger. 
 
 " Oh, Mabyn," Wenna said, " how could you be so extrav- 
 agant ! And just after you gave me that ten shillings for 
 the Leans." 
 
 " You be quiet," said Mabyn, briskly, going off with a light 
 look on her face. 
 
 And yet there was some determination about her mouth. 
 She hastily put on her hat and went out. She took the path 
 by the hill-side over the little harbor ; and eventually she 
 reached the face of Black Cliff, at the foot of which a gray- 
 green sea was dashing in white masses of foam ; there was no 
 living thing around her but the choughs and daws, and the 
 white sea-gulls sailing overhead. 
 
 She took out a large sheet of brown paper and placed it 
 on the ground. Then she sought out a bit of rock, weighing 
 about two pounds. Then she took out the little parcel which 
 contained the emerald ring, tied it up carefully along with 
 the stone in the sheet of brown paper ; finally, she rose up to 
 her full height and heaved the whole into the sea. A splash 
 down there, and that was all. 
 
 She clapped her hands with joy. 
 
 " And now, my precious emerald ring, that's the last of 
 you, I imagine ! And there isn't much chance of a fish bring- 
 ing you back, to make mischief with your ugly green stones ! " 
 
 Then she went home, and wrote this note : 
 
 "Eglosilyan, Monday. 
 
 " Dear Mr. Trelyon, — 
 
 "I have just thrown the emerald ring you gave Wenna into 
 the sea, and she wears the other one now on her engaged 
 finger, but she thinks I bought it. Did you ever hear of an 
 old-fashioned rhyme that is this ? — 
 
 4 Oh, green's forsaken, 
 
 And yellow's forsworn, 
 And blue's the sweetest 
 Color that's worn ! ' 
 
 You can't tell what mischief that emerald ring might not 
 
"BLUE IS THE SWEETEST." 221 
 
 have done. But the sapphires that Wenna is wearing now 
 are perfectly beautiful ; and Wenna is not so heartbroken 
 that she isn't very proud of them. I never saw such a beau- 
 tiful ring. 
 
 " Yours sincerely, 
 
 " Mabyn Rosewarne. 
 
 " P. S. — Are you never coming back to Eglosilyan any 
 more ? " 
 
 So the days went by, and Mabyn waited, with a secret hope, 
 to see what answer Mr. Roscorla would send to that letter 
 of confession and contrition Wenna had written to him at 
 Penzance. The letter had been written as an act of duty, 
 and posted too ; but there was no mail going out for ten days 
 thereafter, so that a considerable time had to elapse before 
 the answer came. 
 
 During that time Wenna went about her ordinary duties, 
 just as if there were no hidden fire of pain consuming her 
 heart ; there was no word spoken by her or to her of all that 
 had recently occurred ; her mother and sister were glad to see 
 her so continuously busy. At first she shrank from going up 
 to Trelyon Hall, and would rather have corresponded with 
 Mrs. Trelyon about their joint work of charity, but she con- 
 quered the feeling, and went and saw the gentle lady, who per- 
 ceived nothing altered or strange in her demeanor. At last 
 the letter from Jamaica came ; and Mabyn, having sent it up 
 to her sister's room, waited for a few minutes, and then follow- 
 ed it. She was a little afraid, despite her belief in the virtues 
 of the sapphire ring. 
 
 When she entered the room, she uttered a slight cry of 
 alarm and ran forward to her sister. Wenna was seated on 
 a chair by the side of the bed, but she had thrown her arms 
 out on the bed, her head was between them, and she was 
 sobbing as if her heart would break. 
 
 " Wenna, what is the matter ? what has he said to you ? " 
 
 Mabyn's eyes were all afire now. Wenna would not an- 
 swer. She would not even raise her head. 
 
 " Wenna, I want to see that letter." 
 
 " Oh no, no," the girl moaned. " I deserve it ; he says 
 what is true ; I want you to leave me alone, Mabyn — you — 
 you can't do anything to help this — " 
 
 But Mabyn had by this time perceived that her sister 
 held in her hand, crumpled up, the letter which was the 
 cause of this wild outburst of grief. She went forward and 
 
222 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 firmly took it out of the yielding fingers ; then she turned to 
 the light and read it. 
 
 " Oh, if I were a man ! " she said ; and then the very pas- 
 sion of her indignation, finding no other vent, filled her eyes 
 with proud and angry tears. She forgot to rejoice that her 
 sister was now free. She only saw the cruel insult of those 
 lines, and the fashion in which it had struck down its vic- 
 tim. 
 
 " Wenna," she said, hotly, " you ought to have more spirit ! 
 You don't mean to say you care for the opinion of a man 
 who would write to any girl like that ! You ought to be 
 precious glad that he has shown himself in his true colors. 
 Why, he never cared a bit for you — never ! — or he would 
 never turn at a moment's notice and insult you — " 
 
 " I have deserved it all ; it is every word of it true ; he 
 could not have written otherwise " — that was all that Wenna 
 would say between her sobs. 
 
 " Well," retorted Mabyn, " after all I am glad he was an- 
 gry. I did not think he had so much spirit. And if this is 
 his opinion of you, I don't think it is worth heeding, only I 
 hope he'll keep to it. Yes, I do ! I hope he'll continue 
 to think you're everything that is wicked, and remain out in 
 Jamaica. Wenna, you must not lie and cry like that. 
 Come, get up, and look at the strawberries that Mr. Tre- 
 whella has sent you." 
 
 " Please, Mabyn, leave me alone, there's a good girl." 
 
 " I shall be up again in a few minutes, then ; I want you 
 to drive me over to St. Gwennis. Wenna, I must go over to 
 St. Gwennis before lunch ; and father won't let me have any- 
 body to drive ; do you hear, Wenna?" 
 
 Then she went out and down into the kitchen, where she 
 bothered Jennifer for a few minutes until she had got an 
 iron heated at the fire. With this implement she carefully 
 smoothed out the crumpled letter, and then she as carefully 
 folded it, took it up-stairs, and put it safely away in her own 
 desk. She had just time to write a few lines : 
 
 " Dear Mr. Trelyon, — 
 
 " Do you know what news I have got to tell you ? Can 
 you guess ? The engagement between Mr. Roscorla and 
 Wenna is broke?i off; and I have got in my possession the let- 
 ter in which he sets her free. If you knew how glad I am ! — 
 I should like to cry i Hurrah ! hurrah ! ' all through the 
 streets of Eglosilyan, and I think every one else would do 
 cne same if only they knew. Of course, she is very much 
 
THE EXILE'S RETURN. 223 
 
 grieved, for he has been most insulting. I cannot tell you 
 the things he has said ; you would kill him if you heard 
 them. But she will come round very soon, I know ; and 
 then she will have her freedom again, and no more emerald 
 rings, and letters all filled with arguments. Would you like 
 to see her, Mr. Trelyon ? But don't come yet — not for a 
 long time — she would only get angry and obstinate. I'll tell 
 you when to come ; and in the mean time, you know, she is 
 still wearing your ring, so that you need not be afraid. 
 How glad I shall be to see you again ! 
 
 "Yours most faithfully, 
 
 " Mabyn Rosewarne." 
 
 She went down-stairs quickly, and put this letter in the 
 letter box. There was an air of triumph on her face. She 
 had worked for this result — aided by the mysterious powers 
 of fate, whom she had conjured to serve her — and now the 
 welcome end of her labors had arrived. She bade the 
 hostler get out the dog-cart, as if she were the Queen of 
 Sheba going to visit Solomon. She went marching up to 
 her sister's room, announcing her approach with a more than 
 ordinarily accurate rendering of " Oh, the men of merry, 
 merry England ! " so that a stranger might have fancied 
 that he heard the very voice of Harry Trelyon, with all its 
 unmelodious vigor, ringing along the passage. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 THE EXILE'S RETURN. 
 
 Perhaps you have been away in distant parts of the earth, 
 each day crowded with new experiences and slowly obscur- 
 ing the clear pictures of England with which you left ; 
 perhaps you have only been hidden away in London, amid its 
 ceaseless noise, its strange faces, its monotonous recurrence 
 of duties ; let us say, in any case, that you are returning 
 home for a space to the quiet of northern Cornwall. 
 
 You look out of the high window of a Plymouth hotel 
 early in the morning; there is proirfise of a beautiful 
 autumn day. A ring of pink mist lies around the horizon ; 
 overhead the sky is clear and blue ; the white sickle of the 
 moon still lingers visible. The new warmth of the day be- 
 gins to melt the hoar-frost in the meadows, and you know 
 
224 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 that out beyond the town the sun is shining brilliantly on the 
 wet grass, with the brown cattle gleaming red in the light. 
 
 You leave the great world behind, with all its bustle, 
 crowds, and express engines, when you get into the quiet lit- 
 tle train that takes you leisurely up to Launceston, through 
 woods, by the sides of rivers, over great valleys. There is a 
 sense of repose about this railway journey. The train stops 
 at any number of small stations — apparently to let the guard 
 have a chat with the station-master — and then jogs on in a 
 quiet, contented fashion. And on such an autumn day as 
 this, that is a beautiful, still, rich-colored, and English-look- 
 ing country through which it passes. Here is a deep valley, 
 all glittering with the dew and the sunlight. Down in the 
 hollow a farm-yard is half hidden behind the yellowing elms ; 
 a boy is driving a flock of white geese along the twisting 
 road ; the hedges are red with the withering briers. Up 
 here, along the hill-sides, the woods of scrub-oak are glowing 
 with every imaginable hue of gold, crimson, and bronze, 
 except where a few dark firs appear, or where a tuft of 
 broom, pure and bright in its green, stands out among the 
 faded brackens. The gorse is profusely in bloom — it always 
 is in Cornwall. Still further over there are sheep visible on 
 the uplands ; beyond these again the bleak brown moors rise 
 into peaks of hills ; overhead the silent blue, and all around 
 the sweet, fresh country air. 
 
 With a sharp whistle the small train darts into an opening 
 in the hills ; here we are in the twilight of a great wood. 
 The tall trees are becoming bare ; the ground is red with the 
 fallen leaves ; through the branches the blue-winged jay flies, 
 screaming harshly ; you can smell the damp and resinous 
 odors of the ferns. Out again we get into the sunlight ; and 
 lo ! a rushing, brawling, narrow stream, its clear flood sway- 
 ing this way and that by the big stones ; a wall of rock over- 
 head crowned by glowing furze ; a herd of red cattle sent 
 scampering through the bright-green grass. Now we get 
 slowly into a small white station, and catch a glimpse of a 
 tiny town over in the valley ; again we go on by wood and 
 valley, by rocks and streams and farms. It is a pleasant 
 drive on such a morning. 
 
 In one of the carriages in this train Master Harry Trelyon 
 and his grandmother were seated. How he had ever persuaded 
 her to go with him to Cornwall by train was mysterious 
 enough ; for the old lady thoroughly hated all such modern 
 devices. It was her custom to go travelling all over the 
 country with a big, old-fashioned phaeton and a pair of 
 
THE EXILE 'S RE TuRM 2 2 5 
 
 horses ; and her chief amusement during these long excur- 
 sions was driving up to any big house she took a fancy to, in 
 order to see if there were a chance of its being let to her. 
 The faithful old servant who attended her, and who was 
 about as old as the coachman, had a great respect for his 
 mistress ; but sometimes he swore — inaudibly — when she 
 ordered him to make the usual inquiry at the front-door of 
 some noble lord's country residence, which he would as soon 
 have thought of letting as of forfeiting his seat in the House 
 of Peers or his hopes of heaven. But the carriage and 
 horses were coming down all the same to Eglosilyan, to take 
 her back again. 
 
 " Harry," she was saying at this moment, " the longer I 
 look at you, the more positive I am that you are ill. I don't 
 like your color; you are thin and careworn and anxious. 
 What is the matter with you ? " 
 
 " Going to school again at twenty-one is hard work, grand- 
 mother," he said. " Don't you try it. But I don't think I'm 
 particularly ill ; few folks can keep a complexion like yours, 
 grandmother." 
 
 "Yes," said the old lady, rather pleased, "many's the time 
 they said that about me, that there wasn't much to complain 
 of in my looks; and that's what a girl thinks of then, and 
 sweethearts and balls, and all the other men looking savage 
 when she's dancing with any one of them. Well, well, 
 Harry ; and what is all this about you and the young lady 
 your mother has made such a pet of ? Oh yes, I have my 
 suspicions ; and she's engaged to another man, isn't she ? 
 Your grandfather would have fought him, I'll be bound ; but 
 we live in a peaceable way now — well, well, no matter ; but 
 hasn't that got something to do with your glum looks, 
 Harry ? " 
 
 " I'll tell you, grandmother, I have been hard at work in 
 London. You can't look very brilliant after a few months 
 in London." 
 
 " And what keeps you in London at this time of the year ?" 
 said this plain-spoken old lady. " Your fancy about getting 
 into the army ? Nonsense, man ; don't tell me such a tale 
 as that. There's a woman in the case ; a Trelyon never puts 
 himself so much about from any other cause. To stop in 
 town at this time of the year ! Why, your grandfather and 
 your father, too, would have laughed to hear of it. I haven't 
 had a brace of birds or a pheasant sent me since last autumn 
 — not one. Come, sir, be frank with me. I'm an old woman, 
 but I can hold my tongue.'*' 
 *5 
 
2?6 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 "There's nothing to tell, grandmother," he said. "You 
 just about hit it in that guess of yours — I suppose Juliott told 
 you. Well, the girl is engaged to another man \ and what 
 more is to be said ? " 
 
 " The man's in Jamaica ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Why are you going down to-day ? " 
 
 "Only for a brief visit : I've been a long time away." 
 
 The old lady sat silent for some time. She had heard of 
 the whole affair before ; but she wished to have the rumor 
 confirmed. And at first she was sorely troubled that her 
 grandson should contemplate marrying an innkeeper's daugh- 
 ter, however intelligent, amiable, and well-educated the young 
 lady might be ; but she knew the Trelyons pretty well, and 
 knew that, if he had made up his mind to it, argument and 
 remonstrance would be useless. Moreover, she had a great 
 affection for this young man, and was strongly disposed to 
 sympathize with any wish of his. She grew in time to have 
 a great interest in Miss Wenna Rosewarne ; at this moment 
 the chief object of her visit was to make her acquaintance. 
 She grew to pity young Trelyon in'his disappointment, and was 
 inclined to believe that the person in Jamaica was something 
 of a public enemy. The fact was, her mere liking for her 
 grandson would have converted her to a sympathy with the 
 wildest project he could have formed. 
 
 "Dear, dear," she said, "what awkward things engage- 
 ments are when they stand in your way. Shall I tell you the 
 truth ? I was just about as good as engaged to John Chol- 
 mondeley when I gave myself up to your grandfather — but 
 there, when a girl's heart pulls her one way, and her promise 
 pull's her another way, she needs to be a very firm-minded 
 young woman, if she means to hold fast. John Cholmondeley 
 was as good-hearted a young fellow as ever lived — yes, I will 
 say that for him ; and I was mightily sorry for him ; but — but 
 you see that's how things come about. Dear, dear, that 
 evening at Bath — I remember it as well as if it was yester- 
 day — an d it was only two months after I had run away with your 
 grandfather. Yes, there was a ball that night ; and we had 
 kept very quiet, you know, after coining back ; but this time 
 your grandfather had set his heart on taking me out before 
 everybody, and, you know, he had to have his way. As sure 
 as I live, Harry, the first man I saw was John Cholmondeley, 
 just as white as a ghost — they said he had been drinking hard 
 and gambling pretty nearly the whole of these two months. 
 He wouldn't come near me. He wouldn't take the least no- 
 
THE EXILE'S RETURN. 227 
 
 tice of me. The whole night he pretended to be vastly gay 
 and merry ; he danced with everybody ; but his eyes never 
 came near me. Well, you know what a girl is — that vexed 
 me a little bit ; for there never was a man such a slave to a 
 woman as he was to me — dear, dear, the way my father used 
 to laugh at him, until he got wild with anger. Well, I went 
 up to him at last, when he was by himself, and I said to him, 
 just in a careless way, you know, ' John, aren't you going to 
 dance with me to-night?' Well, do you know, his face got 
 quite white again ; and he said — I remember the very words, as 
 cold as ice — ' Madam,' say she, ' I am glad to find that your 
 hurried trip to Scotland has impaired neither your good 
 looks nor your self-command.' Wasn't it cruel of him ? — but 
 then, poor fellow, he had been badly used, I admit that. Poor 
 fellow, he never did marry ; and I don't believe he ever for- 
 got me to his dying day. Many a time I'd like to have told 
 him all about it ; and how there was no use in my marrying 
 him if I liked another man better ; but though we met some- 
 times, especially when he came down about the Reform Bill 
 time — and I do believe I made a red-hot Radical of him — he 
 was always very proud, and I hadn't the heart to go back on 
 the old story. But I'll tell you what your grandfather did 
 for him — he got him returned at the very next election, and he 
 on the other side too ; and after a bit a man begins to think 
 more about getting a seat in Parliament than about courting 
 an empty-headed girl. I have met this Mr. Roscorla, haven't 
 I?" 
 
 " Of course you have." 
 
 " A good-looking man rather, with a fresh complexion and 
 gray hair ? " 
 
 " I don't know what you mean by good looks," said Trel- 
 yon, shortly. " I shouldn't think people would call him an 
 Adonis. But there's no accounting for tastes." 
 
 " Perhaps I may have been mistaken," the old lady said ; 
 " but there was a gentleman at Plymouth Station who seemed 
 to be something like what I can recall of Mr. Roscorla — you 
 didn't see him, I suppose." 
 
 " At Plymouth Station, grandmother ? " the young man 
 said, becoming rather uneasy. 
 
 " Yes. He got into the train just as we came up. A 
 neatly dressed man, gray hair, and a healthy-looking face — I 
 must have seen him somewhere about here before." 
 
 " Roscorla is in Jamaica," said Trelyon, positively. 
 
 Just at this moment the train slowed into Launceston Sta- 
 tion, and the people began to get out on the platform. 
 
228 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 "That is the man I mean," said the old lady. 
 
 Trelyon turned and stared. There, sure enough, was Mr. 
 Roscorla, looking not one whit different from the precise, 
 elderly, fresh-colored gentleman who had left Cornwall some 
 seven months before. 
 
 " Good Lord, Harry ! " said the old lady, nervously looking 
 at her grandson's face, " don't have a fight here ! " 
 
 The next second Mr. Rosccrla wheeled around, anxious 
 about some luggage, and now it was his turn to stare in aston- 
 ishment and anger — anger, because he had been told that 
 Harry Trelyon never came near Cornwall, and his first sud- 
 den suspicion was that he had been deceived. All this had 
 happened in a minute. Trelyon was the first to regain his 
 self-command. He walked deliberately forward, held out his 
 hand, and said — 
 
 " Hillo, Roscorla ; back in England again ? I didn't know 
 you were coming." 
 
 " No," said Mr. Roscorla, with his face grown just a trifle 
 grayer, — " no, I suppose not." 
 
 In point of fact he had not informed anyone of his coming. 
 He had prepared a little surprise. The chief motive of his 
 return was to get Wenna to cancel forever that unlucky letter 
 of release he had sent her, which he had done more or less 
 successfully in subsequent correspondence ; but he had also 
 hoped to introduce a little romanticism into his meeting with 
 her. He would enter Eglosilyan on foot. He would wander 
 clown to the rocks at the mouth of the harbor, on the chance 
 of finding Wenna there. Might he not hear her humming to 
 herself, as she sat and sewed, some snatch of " Your Polly 
 has never been false, she declares " — or was that the very 
 last ballad in the world she would now think of singing ? 
 Then the delight of regarding again the placid, bright face 
 and earnest eyes, of securing once more a perfect understand- 
 ing between them and their glad return to the inn. 
 
 All this had been spoiled by the appearance of this young 
 man : he loved him none the more for that. 
 
 " I suppose you haven't got a trap waiting for you ?" said 
 Trelyon, with cold politeness. " I can drive you over, if you 
 like." 
 
 He could do no less than make the offer ; the other had 
 no alternative but to accept. Old Mrs. Trelyon heard this 
 compact made with considerable dread. 
 
 Indeed, it was a dismal drive over to Eglosilyan, bright as 
 the forenoon was. The old lady did her best to be courteous 
 to Mr. Roscorla and cheerful with her grandson ; but she 
 
THE EXILE'S RETURN. 229 
 
 was oppressed by the belief that it was only her presence 
 that had so far restrained the two men from giving vent to 
 the rage and jealousy that filled their hearts. The conversa- 
 tion kept up was singular. 
 
 " Are you going to remain in England long, Roscorla ? " 
 said the younger of the two men, making an unnecessary 
 cut at one of the two horses he was driving. 
 " Don't know yet. Perhaps I may." 
 
 " Because," said Trelyon, with angry impertinence, " I 
 suppose if you do you'll have to look around for a house- 
 keeper." 
 
 The insinuation was felt; and Roscorla's eyes looked 
 anything but pleasant as he answered — 
 
 "You forget I've got Mrs. Cornish to look after my 
 house." 
 
 " Oh, Mrs. Cornish is not much of a companion for you." 
 "Men seldom want to make companions of their house- 
 keepers," was the retort, uttered rather hotly. 
 
 " But sometimes they wish to have the two offices com- 
 bined, for economy's sake." 
 
 At this juncture Mrs. Trelyon struck in, somewhat wildly, 
 with a remark about an old ruined house, which seemed to 
 have had at one time a private still inside : the danger was 
 staved off for the moment. 
 
 " Harry," she said, " mind what you are about ; the horses 
 seem very fresh." 
 
 "Yes, they like a good run; I suspect they've had pre- 
 cious little to do since I left Cornwall." 
 
 Did she fear that, the young man was determined to throw 
 them into a ditch or down a precipice, with the wild desire 
 of killing his rival at any cost? If she had known the 
 whole state of affairs between them — the story of the emerald 
 ring, for example — she would have understood at least the 
 difficulty experienced by these two men in remaining de- 
 cently civil towards each other. 
 
 So they passed over the high and wide moors, until far 
 ahead they caught a glimpse of the blue plain of the sea. 
 Mr. Roscorla relapsed into silence ; he was becoming a 
 trifle nervous. He was probably so occupied with anticipa- 
 tions of hij meeting with Wenna that he failed to notice the 
 objects around him — and one of these, now become visible, 
 was a very handsome young lady, who was coming smartly 
 along a wooded lane, carrying a basket of bright-colored 
 flowers. 
 
 " Why, here's Mabyn Rosewarne. I must wait for her." 
 
230 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 Mabyn had seen at a distance Mrs. Trelyon's grey horses; 
 she guessed that the young master had come back, and that 
 he had brought some strangers with him. She did not like 
 to be stared at by strangers. She came along the path, 
 with her eyes fixed on the ground ; she thought it imperti- 
 nent of Harry Trelyon to wait to speak to her. 
 
 " Oh, Mabyn," he cried, " you must let me drive you 
 home ! And let me introduce you to my grandmother. 
 There is some one else whom you know." 
 
 The young lady bowed to Mrs. Trelyon ; then she stared, 
 and changed color somewhat, when she saw Mr. Roscorla ; 
 then she was helped up into a seat. 
 
 " How do you do, Mr. Trelyon ? " she said. " I am very 
 glad to see you have come back. How do you do, Mr. 
 Roscorla ? " 
 
 She shook hands with them both, but not quite in the 
 same fashion. 
 
 " And you have sent no message that you were coming ? " 
 she said, looking her companion straight in the face. 
 
 " No — no, I did not," he said, angry and embarrassed by 
 the open enmity of the girl. " I thought I should surprise 
 you all—" 
 
 "You have surprised me, anyway," said Mabyn, "for 
 how can you be so thoughtless? Wenna has been very ill — 
 I tell you, she has been very ill indeed, though she has said 
 little about it, and the least thing upsets her. How can you 
 think of frightening her so ? Do you know what you are 
 doing ? I wish you would go away back to Launceston, or 
 London, and write her a note there, if you are coming, 
 instead of trying to frighten her ! " 
 
 This was the language, it appeared to Mr. Roscorla, of a 
 virago; only viragos do not ordinarily have tears in their 
 eyes, as was the case with Mabyn, when she finished her 
 indignant appeal. 
 
 " Mr. Trelyon, do you think it is fair to go and frighten 
 Wenna so ? " she demanded. 
 
 " It is none of my business," Trelyon answered, with an air 
 as if he had said to his rival, " Yes, go and kill the girl ! 
 You are a nice sort of a gentleman, to come down from 
 London to kill the girl ! " 
 
 "This is absurd," said Mr. Roscorla, contemptuously, for 
 he was stung into reprisal by the persecution of these two ; 
 "a girl isn't so easily frightened out of her wits. Why, she 
 must have known that my coming home was at any time 
 probable." 
 
THE EXILE 'S RE TURN. 23 1 
 
 " I have no doubt she feared that it was," said Mabyn, 
 partly to herself ; for once she was afraid of speaking out. 
 
 Presently, however, a brighter light came over the girl's 
 face. 
 
 " Why, I quite forgot," she said, addressing Harry Trel- 
 yon; "I quite forgot that Wenna was just going up to 
 Trelyon Hall when I left. Of course, she will be up there. 
 You will be able to tell her that Mr. Roscorla has arrived, 
 won't you ? " 
 
 The malice of this suggestion was so apparent that the 
 young gentleman in front could not help grinning at it ; fort- 
 unately, his face could not be seen by his rival. What he 
 thought of the whole arrangement can only be imagined. 
 
 And so, as it happened, Mr. Roscorla and his friend Mabyn 
 were dropped at the inn; while Harry Trelyon drove his 
 grandmother up and on to the Hall. 
 
 " Well, Harry," the old lady said, " I am glad to be able to 
 breathe at last ; I thought you two were going to kill each 
 other." 
 
 " There is no fear of that," the young man said ; "that is 
 not the way in which this affair has to be settled. It is en- 
 tirely a matter for her decision — and look how everything is 
 in his favor. I am not even allowed to say a word to her ; 
 and even if I could, he is a deal cleverer than me in argument. 
 He would argue my head off in half an hour." 
 
 "But you don't turn a girl's heart around by argument, 
 Harry. When a girl has to choose between a young lover 
 and an elderly one, it isn't always good-sense that directs her 
 choice. Is fyliss Wenna Rosewarne at all like her sister ? " 
 
 "She's not such a tomboy," he said ; "but she is quite as 
 straightforward, and proud, and quick to tell you what is the 
 ' right thing to do. There's no sort of shamming tolerated by 
 these two girls. But then Wenna is gentle and quieter, and 
 more soft and lovable than Mabyn — in my fancy, you know ; 
 and she is more humorous and clever, so that she never gets 
 into those school-girl rages. But it is really a shame to com- 
 pare them like that ; and, indeed, if any one said die least 
 thing against one of these girls, the other would precious soon 
 make him regret the day he was born. You don't catch me 
 doing that with either of them ; I've had a warning already, 
 when I hinted that Mabyn might probably manage to keep 
 her husband in good order. And so she would, I believe, if 
 the husband were not of the right sort; but when she is 
 really fond of anybody, she becomes their slave out-and-out. 
 There is nothing she wouldn't do for her sister; and her 
 
252 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 sister thinks there's nobody in the world like Mabyn. So you 
 see — " 
 
 He stopped in the middle of this sentence. 
 
 "Grandmother/' he said, almost in a whisper, "here she is 
 coming along the road." 
 
 " Miss Rosewarne ? " 
 
 " Yes : shall I introduce you ? " 
 
 " If you like." 
 
 Wenna was coming down the steep road, between the high 
 hedges, with a small girl on each side of her, whom she was 
 leading by the hand. She was gayly talking to them ; you 
 could hear the children laughing at what she said. Old Mrs. 
 Trelyon came to the conclusion that this merry young lady, 
 with the light and free step, the careless talk, and fresh color 
 in her face, was certainly not dying of any love-affair. 
 
 " Take the reins, grandmother, for a minute." 
 
 He had leaped down into the road, and was standing before 
 her, almost ere she had time to recognize him. For a moment 
 a quick gleam of gladness shone on her face ; then, almost 
 instinctively, she seemed to shrink from him, and she was re- 
 served, distant, and formal. 
 
 He introduced her to the old lady, who said something 
 nice to her about her sister. The young man was looking 
 wistfully at her, troubled at heart that she treated him so 
 coldly. 
 
 " I have got to break some news to you," he said ; " perhaps 
 you will consider it good news." 
 
 She looked up quickly. 
 
 " Nothing has happened to anybody — only some one has 
 arrived. Mr. Roscorla is at the inn." 
 
 She did not flinch. He was vexed with her that she showed 
 no sign of fear or dislike. On the contrary, she quickly said 
 that she must then go down to the inn ; and she bade them 
 both good-bye, in a placid and ordinary way ; while he drove 
 off, with dark thoughts crowding into his imagination of what 
 might happen down at the inn during the next few days. He 
 was angry with her, he scarcely knew why. 
 
 Meanwhile Wenna, apparently quite calm, went on down 
 the road ; but there was uo more laughing in her voice, no 
 more light in her face. 
 
 " Miss Wenna," said the smaller of the two children, who 
 could not understand this change, and who looked up with big, 
 wondering eyes, " why does oo tremble so ? " 
 
SOME OLD FRIENDS. 233 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 SOME OLD FRIENDS. 
 
 When they heard that Wenna was coming down the road 
 they left Mr. Roscorla alone : lovers like to have their meet- 
 ings and partings unobserved. 
 
 She went into the room, pale and yet firm — there was even 
 a sense of gladness in her heart that now she must know the 
 worst. What would he say? How would he receive her? 
 She knew that she was at his mercy. 
 
 Well, Mr. Roscorla at this moment was angry enough, for 
 he had been deceived and trifled with in his absence, but he 
 was also anxious, and his anxiety caused him to conceal his 
 anger. He came forward to her with quite a pleasant look 
 on his face ; he kissed her and said — 
 
 " Why, now, Wenna, how frightened you seem ! Did you 
 think I was going to scold you ? No, no, no — I hope there 
 is no necessity for that. I am not unreasonable or over-ex- 
 acting, as a younger man might be ; I can make allowances. 
 Of course I can't say I liked what you told me, when I first 
 heard of it ; but then I reasoned with myself : I thought of 
 your lonely position ; of the natural liking a girl has for the 
 attention of a young man ; of the possibility of any one going 
 thoughtlessly wrong. And really I see no great harm done. 
 A passing fancy — that is all." 
 
 " Oh, I hope that is so ! " she cried suddenly, with a pathet- 
 ic earnestness of appeal. " It is so good of you, so gener- 
 ous of you to speak like that ! " 
 
 For the first time she ventured to raise her eyes to his face. 
 They were full of gratitude. Mr. Roscorla complimented 
 himself on his knowledge of women ; a younger man would 
 have flown into a fury. 
 
 " Oh dear, yes, Wenna ! " he said lightly, " I suppose all 
 girls have their fancies stray a little bit from time to time ; 
 but is there any harm done ? None whatever ! There is noth- 
 ing like marriage to fix the affections, as I hope you will dis- 
 cover ere long — the sooner the better, indeed. Now we will 
 dismiss all those unpleasant matters we have been writing 
 about." 
 
 " Then you do forgive me ? You are not really angry with 
 me ? " she said ; and then, finding a welcome assurance in 
 his face, she gratefully took his hand and touched it with her 
 lips. 
 
234 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 This little act of graceful submission quite conquered Mr. 
 Roscorla, and definitely removed all lingering traces of anger 
 from his heart. He was no longer acting clemency when he 
 said — with a slight blush on his forehead — 
 
 " You know, Wenna, I have not been free from blame 
 either. That letter — it was merely a piece ot thoughtless an- 
 ger ; but still it was very kind of you to consider it cancelled 
 and withdrawn when I asked you. Well, I was in a bad tem- 
 per at that time. You cannot look at things so philosoph- 
 ically when you are far away from home ; you feel yourself so 
 helpless ; and you think you are being unfairly — However, 
 not another word ! Come, let us talk of all your affairs, and 
 all the work you have done since I left." 
 
 It was a natural invitation ; and yet it revealed in a moment 
 the hollowness of the apparent reconciliation between them. 
 What chance of mutual confidence could there be between 
 these two ? 
 
 He asked Wenna if she had been busy in his absence ; and 
 the thought immediately occurred to him that she had had at 
 least sufficient leisure to go walking about with young Trel- 
 yon. 
 
 He asked her about the Sewing Club ; and she stumbled 
 into the admission that Mr. Trelyon had presented that asso- 
 ciation with six sewing-machines. 
 
 Always Trelyon — always the recurrence of that uneasy con- 
 sciousness of the past events, which divided these two as 
 completely as the Atlantic had done. It was a strange meet- 
 ing, after that long absence. 
 
 " It is a curious thing," he said, rather desperately, " how 
 marriage makes a husband and wife sure of each other. 
 Anxiety is all over then. We have near us, out in Jamaica, 
 several men whose wives and families are here in England ; 
 and they accept their exile there as an ordinary commercial 
 necessity. But then they put their whole minds into their 
 work ; for they know that when they return to England they 
 will find their wives and families just as they left them. Of 
 course, in the majority of cases, the married men there have 
 taken their wives out with them. Do you fear a long sea-voy- 
 age, Wenna ? " 
 
 " I don't know/' she said rather startled. 
 
 " You ought to be a good sailor, you know." 
 
 She said nothing to that : she was looking down, dreading 
 what was coming. 
 
 " I am sure you must be a good sailor. I have heard of 
 many of your boating adventures. Weren't you rather fond, 
 
SOME OLD FRIENDS. 235 
 
 some years ago, of going out at night with the Lundy 
 pilots ? " 
 
 " I have never gone a long voyage in a large vessel," Wen- 
 na said, rather faintly. 
 
 " But if there was any reasonable object to be gained, an 
 ordinary sea-voyage would not frighten you ? " 
 
 " Perhaps not." 
 
 " And they have really very good steamers going to the 
 West Indies." 
 
 " Oh, indeed." 
 
 " First-rate ! You get a most comfortable cabin." 
 
 "I thought you rather — in your description of it — in your 
 first letter — " 
 
 "Oh," said he, hurriedly and lightly (for he had been 
 claiming sympathy on account of the discomfort of his voy- 
 age out), "perhaps I made a little too much of that. Besides, 
 I did not make a proper choice in time. One gains experi- 
 ence in such matters. Now, if you were going out to Jamaica, 
 I should see that you had every comfort." 
 
 " But you don't wish me to go out to Jamaica ? " she said, 
 almost retreating from him. 
 
 " Well," said he, with a smile, for his only object at pres- 
 ent was to familiarize her with the idea, " I don't particu- 
 larly wish it, unless the project seemed a good one to you. 
 You see, Wenna, I find that my stay there must be longer 
 than I expected. When I went out at first the intention of 
 my partners and myself was that I should merely be on the 
 spot to help our manager by comparing his accounts at the 
 moment, and undertaking a lot of work of that sort, which 
 otherwise would have consumed time in correspondence. I 
 was merely to see the whole thing well started, and then re- 
 turn. But now I find that my superintendence may be needed 
 there for a long while. Just when everything promises so 
 well, I should not like to imperil all our chances simply for 
 a year or two." 
 
 " Oh no, of course not," Wenna said ; she had no objection 
 to his remaining in Jamaica for a year or two longer than he 
 had intended. 
 
 " That being so," he continued, " it occurred to me that 
 perhaps you might consent to our marriage before I leave 
 England again ; and that, indeed, you might even make up 
 your mind to try a trip to Jamaica. Of course, we should 
 have considerable spells of holiday, if you thought it was 
 worth while coming home for a short time. I assure you, you 
 would find the place delightful — far more delightful than any- 
 
236 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 thing I told you in my letters, for I'm not very good at 
 describing things. And there is a fair amount of society." 
 
 He did not prefer the request in an impassioned manner. 
 On the contrary, he merely felt that he was satisfying him- 
 self by carrying out an intention he had formed on his 
 voyage home. If, he had said to himself, Wenna and he 
 became friends, he would at least suggest to her that she 
 might put an end to all further suspense and anxiety by at 
 once marrying him and accompanying him to Jamaica. 
 
 " What do you say ? " he said, with a friendly smile. " Or 
 have I frightened you too much? Well, let us drop the 
 subject altogether for the present." 
 
 Wenna breathed again. 
 
 " Yes," said he, good-naturedly, " you can think over it. 
 In the mean time do not harass yourself about that or any- 
 thing else. You know, I have come home to spend a holi- 
 day." 
 
 " And won't you come and see the others ? " said Wenna, 
 rising, with a glad look of relief on her face. 
 
 " Oh yes, if you like," he said, and then he stopped short, 
 and an angry gleam shot into his eyes. 
 
 " Wenna, who gave you that ring ? " 
 
 " Oh, Mabyn did," was the frank reply ; but all the same 
 Wenna blushed hotly, for that matter of the emerald ring had 
 not been touched upon. 
 
 " Mabyn did ? " he repeated, somewhat suspiciously. 
 " She must have been in a generous mood." 
 
 " When you know Mabyn as well as I do, you will find 
 out that she always is," said Miss Wenna, quite cheerfully ; 
 she was indeed in the best of spirits to find that this dreaded 
 interview had not been so very frightful after all, and that 
 she had done no mortal injury to one who had placed his 
 happiness in her hands. 
 
 When Mr. Roscorla, some time after, set out to walk by 
 himself up to Basset Cottage, whither his luggage had been 
 sent before him, he felt a little tired. He was not accustomed 
 to violent emotions ; and that morning he had gone through 
 a good deal. His anger and anxiety had for long*been fight- 
 ing for mastery; and both had reached their climax that 
 morning. On the one hand, he wanted to avenge himself for 
 the insult paid him, and to show that he was not to be trifled 
 with ; on the other hand, his anxiety lest he should be unable 
 to make up matters with Wenna, led him to put an unusual 
 value upon her. What was the result^ now that he had defi- 
 
SOME OLD FRIENDS. 237 
 
 nitely won her back to himself ? What was the sentiment that 
 followed on these jarring emotions of the morning? 
 
 To tell the truth, a little disappointment. Wenna was not 
 looking her best when she entered the room ; even now he 
 remembered that the pale face rather shocked him. She was 
 more — insignificant, perhaps, is the best word — than he had ex- 
 pected. Now that he had got back the prize which he thought 
 he had lost, it did not seem to him, after all, to be so wonder- 
 ful. 
 
 And in this mood he went up and walked into the pretty 
 little cottage which had once been his home. " What ? " he 
 said to himself, looking in amazement at the small old-fashioned 
 parlor, and at the still smaller study, filled with books, " is it 
 possible that I ever proposed to myself to live and die in a 
 hole like this ? — my only companion a cantankerous old fool 
 of a woman, my only occupation reading the newspapers, my 
 only society the good folks of the inn ? " 
 
 He thanked God he had escaped. His knocking about the 
 w r orld for a bit had opened up his mind. The possibility of 
 his having in time a handsome income had let in upon him 
 many new and daring ambitions. 
 
 His housekeeper, having expressed her grief that she had 
 just posted some letters to him, not knowing that he was re- 
 turning to England, brought in a number of small pass-books 
 and a large sheet of blue paper. 
 
 " If yii bain't too tired, zor, vor to look over the accounts, 
 'tis all theear but the pultry that Mr. — " 
 
 " Good heavens, Mrs. Cornish ! " said he, " do you think I 
 am going to look over a lot of grocers' bills ? " 
 
 Mrs. Cornish not only hinted in very plain language that 
 her master had been at one time particular enough about gro- 
 cers' bills, and all other bills, however trifling, but further 
 proceeded to give him a full and minute account of the vari- 
 ous incidental expenses to which she had been put through 
 young Penny Luke having bioken a window by flinging a 
 stone from the road ; through the cat having knocked down 
 the best teapot ; through the pig having got out of its sty, 
 gone mad, and smashed a cucumber-frame ; and so forth, and 
 so forth. In desperation, Mr. Roscorla got up, put on his hat, 
 and went outside, leaving her at once astonished and indig- 
 nant over his want of interest in what at one time had been 
 his only care. 
 
 Was this, then, the place in which he had chosen to spend 
 the rest of his life, without change, without movement, with- 
 out interest ? It seemed to him at the moment a living tomb. 
 
238 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 There was not a human being within sight. Far away out 
 there lay the gray-blue sea — a plain without a speck on it. 
 The great black crags at the mouth of the harbor were voice- 
 less and sterile ; could anything have been more bleak than 
 the bare uplands on which the pale sun of an English Octo- 
 ber was shining ? The quiet crushed him ; there was not a 
 nigger near to swear at ; nor could he, at the impulse of a 
 moment, get on horseback and ride over to the busy and 
 interesting and picturesque scene supplied by his faithful 
 coolies at work. 
 
 What was he to do on this very first day in England, for 
 example ? Unpack his luggage, in which were some curiosi- 
 ties he had brought home for Wenna ? — there was too much 
 trouble in that. Walk about the garden and smoke a pipe as 
 had been his wont ? — he had got emancipated from these de- 
 lights of dotage. Attack his grocers' bills ? — he swore by all 
 his gods that he would have nothing to do with the price of 
 candles and cheese now or at any future time. The return of 
 the exile to his native land had already produced a feeling of 
 deep disappointment ; when he married, he said to himself, 
 he would take very good care not to sink into an oyster-like 
 life in Eglosilyan. 
 
 About a couple of hours after, however, he was reminded 
 that Eglosilyan had its small measure of society by the receipt 
 of a letter from Mrs. Trelyon, who said she had just heard of 
 his arrival, and hastened to ask him whether he would dine 
 at the PI all, not next evening, but the following one, to meet 
 two old friends of his, General and Lady Weekes, who were 
 there on a brief visit. 
 
 " And I have written to ask Miss Rosewarne," Mrs. Trel- 
 yon continued, " to spare us the same evening, so that we 
 hope to have you both. Perhaps you will kindly add your 
 entreaties to mine." 
 
 The friendly intention of this postscript was evident ; and 
 yet it did not seem to please Mr. Roscorla. This Sir Percy 
 Weekes had been a friend of his father's ; and when the 
 younger Roscorla was a young man about town, Lady Weekes 
 had been very kind to him, and had nearly got him mar- 
 ried once or twice. There was a great contrast between 
 those days and these. He hoped the old gentleman would 
 not be tempted to come and visit him at Basset Cottage. 
 
 " Oh, Wenna," said he carelessly to her next morning, 
 " Mrs. Trelyon told me she had asked you to go up there to- 
 morrow evening." 
 
 " Yes," Wenna said, looking rather uncomfortable. Then 
 
SOME OLD FRIENDS. 239 
 
 she added, quickly, "Would it displease you if I did not go ? 
 I ought to be at a children's party at Mr. Trewhella's." 
 
 This was precisely what Mr. Roscorla wanted ; but he 
 said — 
 
 " You must not be shy, Wenna. However, please yourself ; 
 you need have no fear of vexing me. But I must go ; for 
 the Weekeses are old friends of mine." 
 
 "They stayed at the inn two or three days in May last," 
 said Wenna, innocently. " They came here by chance and 
 found Mrs. Trelyon from home." 
 
 Mr. Roscorla seemed startled. 
 
 " Oh," said he. " Did they— did they— ask for me ? " 
 
 " Yes, I believe they did," Wenna said. 
 
 " Then you told them," said Mr. Roscorla, with a pleasant 
 smile — " you told them, of course, why you were the best per- 
 son in»the world to give them information about me ?" 
 
 " Oh, dear no," said Wenna, blushing hotly, " they spoke 
 to Jennifer." 
 
 Mr, Roscorla felt himself rebuked. It was George Rose- 
 warne's express wish that his daughters should not be ap- 
 proached by strangers visiting the inn as if they were offi- 
 cially connected with the place ; Mr. Roscorla should have 
 remembered that inquiries would be made of a servant. 
 
 But, as it happened, Sir Percy and his wife had really 
 made the acquaintance of both Wenna and Mabyn on their 
 chance visit to Eglosilyan ; and it was of these two girls they 
 were speaking when Mr. Roscorla was announced in Mrs. 
 Trelyon's drawing-room the following evening. The thin, 
 wiry, white-moustached old man, who had wonderfully bright 
 eyes and a great vivacity of spirits for a veteran of seventy- 
 four, was standing in front of the fire, and declaring to every- 
 body that two such well-accomplished, smart, talkative, and 
 ladylike young women he had never met with in his life. 
 
 " What did you say the name was, my dear Mrs. Trelyon ? 
 Rosewarne, eh ? — Rosewarne ? A good old Cornish name — 
 as good as yours, Roscorla. So they're called Rosewarne — 
 Gad, if her august ladyship there wants to appoint a succes- 
 sor, I'm willing to let her choice fall on one o' those two 
 girls." 
 
 Her august ladyship — a dark and silent old woman of 
 eighty — did not like, in the first place, to be called her au- 
 gust ladyship, and did not relish either having her death 
 talked of as a joke. 
 
 "Roscorla, now — Roscorla — there's \ good chance for 
 you, eh ? " continued the old General. " We never could get 
 
2p THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 you married, you know — wild young dog. Don't ye know 
 the girls ? " 
 
 "Oh yes, Sir Percy," Mr. Roscorla said, with no great 
 good will ; then he turned to the fire and began to warm his 
 hands. 
 
 There was a tall young gentleman standing there who, in 
 former days, would have been delighted to cry out on such an 
 occasion, "Why, Roscorla's going to marry one of 'em." 
 He remained silent now. 
 
 He was very silent, too, throughout the evening ; and al- 
 most anxiously civil towards Mr. Roscorla. He paid great 
 attention when the latter was describing to the company at 
 table the beauties of West Indian scenery, the delights of 
 West Indian life, the change that had come over the pros- 
 pects of Jamaica since the introduction of coolie labor, and 
 the fashion in which the rich merchants of Cuba were setting 
 about getting plantations there for the growth of tobacco. 
 Mr. Roscorla spoke with the air of a man who now knew 
 what the world was. When the old General asked him if he 
 were coming back to live in Eglosilyan after he had become 
 a millionaire, he laughed, and said that one's coffin came 
 soon enough without one's rushing to meet it. No ; when he 
 came back to England finally, he would live in London ; and 
 had Sir Percy still that old walled-in house in Brompton ? 
 
 Sir Percy paid less heed to these descriptions of Jamaica 
 than Harry Trelyon did, for his next neighbor was old Mrs. 
 Trelyon, and these two venerable flirts were talking of old 
 acquaintances and old times at Bath and Cheltenham, and 
 of the celebrated beauties, wits, and murderers of other days, 
 in a manner which her silent ladyship did not at all seem to 
 approve. The General was bringing out all his old fashioned 
 gallantry-compliments, easy phrases in French, polite atten- 
 tions ; his companion began to use her fan with a coquettish 
 grace, and was vastly pleased when a reference was made to 
 her celebrated flight to Gretna Green. 
 
 " Ah, Sir Percy," she said, " the men were men in those 
 days, and the women women, I promise you ; no beating 
 about the bush, but the fair word given, and the fair word 
 taken ; and then a broken head for whoever should interfere 
 — father, uncle, or brother, no matter who ; and you know 
 our family, Sir Percy, our family were among the worst — " 
 
 " I tell you what, madam," said the General, hotly, " your 
 family had among 'em the handsomest women in the west of 
 England — and the handsomest men, too, by Gad. Do you 
 remember Jane Swanhope — the Fair Maid of Somerset they 
 
SOME OLD FRIENDS. 241 
 
 used to call her — that married th§ fellow living down Yeovil 
 way, who broke his neck in a steeplechase ? " 
 
 " Do I remember her ? " said the old lady. " She was one 
 of my bridesmaids when they took me up to London to get 
 married properly after I came back. She was my cousin on 
 the mother's side ; but they were connected with the Trelyons, 
 too. Arid do you remember old John Treylon of Polkerris ; 
 and did you ever see a man straighter in the back than he 
 was, at seventy-one, when he married his second wife — that 
 was at Exeter, I think. But there now, you don't find such 
 men and women in these times ; and do you know the reason 
 of that, Sir Percy ? I'll tell you ; it's the doctors. The doc- 
 tors can keep all the sickly ones alive now ; before it was 
 only the strong ones that lived. Dear, clear me ! when I 
 hear some of those London women talk — it is nothing but a 
 catalogue of illnesses and diseases. No wonder they should 
 say in church, ' There is no health in us ; ' every one of them 
 has something the matter, even the young girls, poor things ; 
 and pretty mothers they're likely to make ! They're a misery 
 to themselves ; they'll bring miserable things into the world ; 
 and all because the doctors have become so clever in pulling 
 sickly people through. That's my opinion, Sir Percy. The 
 doctors are responsible for five sixths of all the suffering you 
 hear of in families, either through illness or the losing of 
 one's friends and relatives." 
 
 " Upon my word, madam," the General protested, " you use 
 the doctor badly. He is blamed if he kills people, and he 
 is blamed if he keeps them alive. What is he to do ? " 
 
 '' Do ? He can't help saving the sickly ones now," the 
 old lady admitted ; " for relatives will have it done, and they 
 know he can do it; but it's a great misfortune, Sir Percy, 
 that's what it is, to have all these sickly creatures growing 
 up to intermarry into the good old families that used to be 
 famous for their comeliness and strength. There was a man 
 — yes, I remember him well — that came from Devonshire — 
 he was a man of good family, too, and they made such a noise 
 about his wrestling. Said I to myself, wrestling is not a fit 
 amusement for gentlemen, but if this man comes up to our 
 county, there's one or other of the Trelyons will try his met- 
 tle. And well I remember saying to my eldest, son George 
 — you remember when he was a young man, Sir Percy, no 
 older than his own son there — ' George,' I said, ' if this Mr. 
 So-and-so comes into these parts, mind you have nothing to 
 do with him ; for wrestling is not fit for gentlemen.' ' All 
 right, mother,' said he ; but he laughed, and I knew what the 
 16 
 
242 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 laugh meant. My dear Sir Percy, I tell you the man hadn't 
 a chance — I heard of it all afterwards. George caught him 
 up, before he could begin any of his tricks, and flung him 
 onto the hedge — and there were a dozen more in our family 
 who could have done ft, I'll be bound." 
 
 "But then, you know, Mrs. Trelyon," Mr. Roscorla vent- 
 ured to say, "physical strength is not everything that is 
 needed. If the doctors were to let the sickly ones die, we 
 might be losing all sorts of great poets and statesmen and 
 philosophers." 
 
 The old lady turned on him. 
 
 " And do you think a man has to be sickly to be clever ! 
 No, no, Mr. Roscorla, give him better health and you give 
 him a better head, that's what we believed in the old days. 
 I fancy, now, there were greater men before all this coddling 
 began than there are now — yes, I do ; and if there is a great 
 man coming into the world, the chances are just as much that 
 he'll be among the strong ones as among the sickly ones — 
 what do you think, Sir Percy ? " 
 
 " I declare you're right, madame," said he gallantly. 
 " You've quite convinced me. Of course, some of 'em must 
 go — I say, let the sickly ones go." 
 
 " I never heard such brutal, such murderous sentiments 
 expressed in my life before," said a solemn voice ; and every 
 one became aware that at last Lady Weekes had spoken. 
 Her speech was the signal for universal silence, in the 
 midst of which the ladies got up and left the room. 
 
 Trelyon took his mother's place and sent around the wine. 
 He was particularly attentive to Roscorla, who was surprised. 
 " Perhaps," thought the latter, " he is anxious to atone for 
 all this bother that is now happily over." 
 
 If the younger man was silent and preoccupied, that was 
 not the case with Mr. Roscorla, who- was already assuming 
 the airs of a rich person, and speaking of his being unable 
 to live in this district or that district of London, just as if he 
 expected to purchase a lease of Buckingham Palace on his 
 return from Jamaica. 
 
 " And how are all my old friends in Hans Place, Sir Per- 
 cy ? " he cried. 
 
 " You've been a deserter, sir — you've been a deserter for 
 many a year now," the General said gayly, " but we're all 
 willing to have you back again to a quiet rubber after dinner, 
 you know. Do you remember old John Thwaites ? Ah, he's 
 gone now — left ;£i 50,000 to build a hospital, and only ^5 000 
 to his sister. The poor old- woman believed some one would 
 
SOME OLD FRIENDS. 2 43 
 
 marrvher when she got the whole of her brother's money- 
 
 mmw^ 
 
 r > Gad I must go and ask her ladyship— 
 And ofl E he trotted* to the drawing-room. He came back 
 
 '""Ofcourse^^he. "Devilish stupid o£ me to forget 
 
 it ?wh"' said the young lady, ' I think the author has 
 
 L I Z~ f* Vppn the second commandment, for there s 
 been trying to keep the e ness to thing m 
 
 ^n^bVe^nlhelLth benelth, or the heavens under 
 the earth—' ",,•,. „ 
 
 :?SrrS£?-"2^ «.b« ladyship was 
 ^Which oftftwo young ladies was it, Sir. Percy ? The 
 *=T' iTSlTA - «S?^ Trelyon. 
 
 " ? i tfSrVshe V V wlftS Captlin^terr- 
 
 tWnk > His son's got into Parliament now-gone over to 
 heRads and Ae working-men, and those fellows that are 
 
 scheming to get the land divided among themselves-allm 
 
 the name of philosophy-and its a devilish fine sort of phi- 
 
 osoDhv that fs when you haven't a rap in your pocket and 
 
 i P L,,nrove that everybody who has must give it up. 
 
 H ™e tom house the other day, and he was jawing away 
 
 so^yu don't mind a general division. Wren you hav ou 
 want to stick to what's in your own pocket. Had him mere, 
 
 ^The old General beamed and laughed over his smartness i ; 
 he was conscious o£ having said something that, in shape at 
 least, was like an epigram. 
 
244 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 " I must rub up my acquaintance in that quarter," said 
 Roscorla, " before I leave again. Fortunately, I have always 
 kept up my club subscription ; and you'll come and dine 
 with me, Sir Percy, won't you, when I get to town ? " 
 
 " Are you going to town ? " said Trelyon, quickly. 
 
 " Oh yes, of course." 
 
 " When ? " 
 
 The question was abrupt, and it made Roscorla look at 
 the young man as he answered. Trelyon seemed to him to 
 be very much harassed about something or other. 
 
 " Well, I suppose in a week or so ; I am only home for a 
 holiday, you know." 
 
 " Oh, you'll be here for a week ? " said the young man, sub- 
 missively. " When do you think of returning to Jamaica ? " 
 
 " Probably at the beginning of next month. Fancy leav- 
 ing England in November — just at the most hideous time of 
 the year — and in a week or two getting out into summer again, 
 with the most beautiful climate, and foliage, and what not, 
 all around you ! I can tell you a man makes a great mistake 
 who settles down to a sort of vegetable life anywhere — you 
 don't catch me at that again." 
 
 " There's some old women," observed the General, who 
 was so anxious to show his profundity that he quite forgot 
 the invidious character of the comparison, " who are just like 
 trees — as much below the ground as above it — isn't that true, 
 eh ? They're a deal more at home among the people they 
 have buried than among those that are alive. I don't say 
 that's your case, Roscorla. You're comparatively a young 
 man yet— you've got brisk health — I don't wonder at your 
 liking to knock about. As for you, young Trelyon, what do 
 you mean to do ? " 
 
 Harry Trelyon started. 
 
 " Oh," said he, with some confusion, " I have no immedi- 
 ate plans. Yes, I have — don't you know I have been cram- 
 ming for the Civil Service examinations for first commissions ?" 
 
 "And what the devil made the War Office go to those 
 civilians ? " muttered the General. 
 
 " And if I pull through, I shall want all your influence to 
 get me gazetted to a good regiment. Don't they often shunt 
 you onto the First or Second West Indians ? " 
 
 "And you've enough money to back you too," said the 
 General. " I tell you what it is, gentlemen, if they abolish 
 the purchase of commissions in the army — and they're al- 
 ways talking about it — they don't know what they'll bring 
 about. They'll have two sets of officers in the army — men 
 
A DARK CONSPIRACY. 
 
 : 45 
 
 with money, who like a good mess, and live far beyond their 
 pay, and men with no money at all, who've got to live on 
 their pay, and how can they afford the regimental mess out 
 of that ? But Parliament won't stand it, you'll see. The 
 War Minister'll be beaten if he brings it on — take my word 
 for that." 
 
 The old General had probably never heard of a royal war- 
 rant and its mighty powers. 
 
 " So you're going to be one of us ? " he said to Trelyon. 
 " Well, you've a smart figure for a uniform. You're the 
 first of your side of the family to go into the army, eh ? You 
 had some naval men among you, eh ? " 
 
 " I think you'd better ask my grandmother," said young 
 Trelyon, with a laugh ; " she'll tell you stories about 'em by 
 the hour together." 
 
 " She's a wonderful woman that — a wonderful old creature," 
 said the General, just as if he were a sprightly young fellow 
 talking of the oldest inhabitant of the district. " She's not 
 one of them that are half buried ; she's wide enough awake, 
 I'll be bound. Gad, what a handsome woman she was when 
 I saw her first. W T ell, lads, let's join the ladies ; I'm none 
 of your steady-going old topers. Enough's as good's a 
 feast — that's my motto. And I can't write my name on a 
 slate with my knuckles, either." 
 
 And so they went into the large, dimly lighted red chamber, 
 where the women were having tea around the blazing fire. 
 The men took various chairs about ; the conversation became 
 general ; old Lady Weekes feebly endeavored to keep up her 
 eyelids. In about half an hour or so Mrs. Trelyon happened 
 to glance around the room. 
 
 "Where's Harry ? " said she. 
 
 No one apparently had noticed that MasterHarry had disap- 
 peared. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 A DARK CONSPIRACY. 
 
 Now, when Harry Trelyon drove up to the Hall, after leav- 
 ing Wenna Rosewarne in the road, he could not tell why he 
 was vexed with her. He imagined somehow that she should 
 not have allowed Mr. Roscorla to come home — and to come 
 home just at this moment, when he, Trelyon, had stolen down 
 for a couple of days to have a shy look at the sweetheart who 
 
246 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 was so far out of his reach. She ought to have been alone. 
 Then she ought not to have looked so calm and complacent 
 on going away to meet Mr. Roscorla ; she ought to have been 
 afraid. She ought to have — in short, everything was wrong, 
 and Wenna was largely to blame. 
 
 " Well, grandmother," said he, as they drove through the 
 avenue, " don't you expect every minute to flush a covey of 
 parsons ? " 
 
 He was angry with Wenna ; and so he broke out once 
 more in his old vein. 
 
 " There are worse men than the parsons, Harry," the old 
 lady said. 
 
 " I'll bet you a sovereign there are two on the door-step." 
 
 He would have lost. There was not a clergyman of any 
 sort in or about the house. 
 
 " Isn't Mr. Barnes here ? " said he to his mother. 
 
 Mrs. Trelyon flushed slightly, as she said — 
 
 " No, Harry, Mr. Barnes is not here. Nor is he likely to 
 visit here again." 
 
 Now Mr. Roscorla would at once have perceived what a 
 strange little story lay behind that simple speech ; but Mr. 
 Harry, paying no attention to it, merely said he was heartily 
 glad to hear of it, and showed his gratitude by being unusually 
 polite to his mother during the the rest of his stay. 
 
 " And so Mr. Roscorla has come back," his mother said. 
 " General Weekes was asking about him only yesterday. We 
 must see if he will come up to dinner the night after to- 
 morrow — and Miss Rosewarne also." 
 
 " You may ask her — you ought to ask her — but she won't 
 come," said he. 
 
 " How do you know ? " Mrs. Trelyon said, with a gentle 
 wonder. " She has been here very often of late." 
 
 " Have you let her walk up ? " 
 
 " No, I have generally driven down for her when I wanted 
 to see her ; and the way she has been working for these 
 people is extraordinary — never tired, always cheerful, ready 
 to be bothered by anybody, and patient with their suspicions 
 and simplicity, beyond belief. I am sure Mr. Roscorla will 
 have an excellent wife." 
 
 " I am not at all sure that he will," said her son, goaded 
 past endurance. 
 
 " Why, Harry," said his mother, with her eyes wide open, 
 " I thought you had a great respect for Miss Rosewarne." 
 
 " I have," he said, abruptly, " far too great a respect to 
 like the notion of her marrying that old fool." 
 
A DARK CONSPIRACY. 
 
 247 
 
 Would you rather not have him to dinner ? " 
 " Oh, I should like to have him to dinner." 
 For one evening, at least, this young man considered, 
 these two would be separated. He was pretty sure that 
 Roscorla would come to meet General Weekes ; he was pos- 
 itive that Wenna would not come to the house while he him- 
 self was in it. 
 
 But the notion that, except during this one evening, his 
 rival would have free access to the inn, and would spend 
 pleasant hours there, and would take Wenna with him for 
 walks along the coast, maddened him. He dared not go 
 down to the village, for fear of seeing these two together. 
 He walked about the grounds, or went away over to the cliffs, 
 torturing his heart with imagining Roscorla's opportunities. 
 And once or twice he was on the point of going straight down 
 to Eglosilyan, and calling on Wenna, before Roscorla's face, 
 to be true to her own heart, and declare herself free from 
 this old and hateful entanglement. 
 
 In these circumstances his grandmother was not a good 
 companion for him. In her continual glorification of the 
 self-will of the Trelyons, and her stories of the wild deeds 
 she had done, she was unconsciously driving him to some des- 
 perate thing, against his better judgment. 
 
 " Why, grandmother," he said, one day, " you hint that I 
 am a nincompoop because I don't go and carry off that girl 
 and marry her against her will. Is that what you mean by 
 telling me of what the men did in former days ? Well, I can 
 tell you this, that it would be a deal easier for me to try that 
 than not to try it. The difficulty is in holding your hand. 
 But what good would you do, after all ? The time has gone 
 by for that sort of thing. I shouldn't like to have on my 
 hands a woman sulking because she was married by force — 
 besides, you can't do these mad freaks now — there are too 
 many police-courts about." 
 
 " By force ? No ! " the old lady said. " The girls I speak 
 of were as glad to run away as the men, I can tell you, and 
 they did it, too, when their relations were against the match." 
 " Of course, if both he and she are agreed, the way is as 
 smooth now as it was then ; you don't need to care much for 
 relations." 
 
 "But, Harry, you don't know what a girl thinks," this 
 dangerous old lady said. " She has her notions of duty, and 
 her respect for her parents, and all that ; and if the man 
 only went and reasoned with her, he would never carry the 
 day ; but just as she comes out of a ball-room some night, 
 
248 THREE FEATHERS 
 
 when she is all aglow with fun and pleasure, and ready to 
 become romantic with the stars, you see, and the darkness, 
 then just show her a carriage, a pair of horses, a marriage 
 license, and her own maid to accompany her, and see what 
 will happen ! Why, she'll hop into the carriage like a dicky 
 bird ; then she'll have a bit of a cry ; and then she'll recover, 
 and be mad with the delight of escaping from those behind 
 her. That's how to win a girl, man ! The sweethearts of 
 these days think too much, that's about it : it's all done by 
 argument between them." 
 
 " You're a wicked old woman, grandmother," said Trelyon, 
 with a laugh. " You oughtn't to put such notions into the 
 head of a well-conducted young man like me." 
 
 " Well, you're not such a booby as you used to be, Harry," 
 the old lady admitted. " Your manners are considerably im- 
 proved, and there was much room for improvement. You're 
 growing a good deal like your grandfather." 
 
 " But there's no Gretna Green nowadays," said Trelyon, as 
 he went outside, " so you can't expect me to be perfect, 
 grandmother." 
 
 On the first night of his arrival at Eglosilyan he stole away 
 in the darkness down to the inn. There were no lamps in 
 the steep road, which was rendered all the darker by the high 
 rocky bank with its rough masses of foliage ; he feared that 
 by accident some one might be out and meet him. But in the 
 absolute silence, under the stars, he made his way down until 
 he was near the inn ; and there, in the black shadow of the 
 road, he stood and looked at the lighted windows. Roscorla 
 was doubtless within — lying in an easy-chair, probably, by the 
 fire, while Wenna sang her old-fashioned songs to him. He 
 would assume the air of being one of the family now — only 
 holding himself a little above the family. Perhaps he was 
 talking of the house he meant to take when he and Wenna mar- 
 ried. 
 
 That was no wholesome food for reflection on which this 
 young man's mind was now feeding. He stood there in the 
 darkness, himself white as a ghost, while all the vague imag- 
 inings of what might be going on within the house semed to 
 be eating at his heart. This, then, was the comfort he had 
 found, by secretly stealing away from London for a day 
 or two ; he had arrived just in time to find his rival tri- 
 umphant. 
 
 The private door of the inn was at this moment opened ; 
 a warm glow of yellow streamed out into the darkness. 
 
 " Good-night," said some one ; was it Wenna ? 
 
A DARK CONSPIRACY. 
 
 249 
 
 " Good-night," was the answer ; and then the figure of a 
 man passed down the road. 
 
 Trelyon breathed more freely ; at last his rival was out of 
 the house. Wenna was now alone ; would she go up into her 
 own room, and think over all the events of the clay ? And 
 would she remember that he had come to Eglosilyan ; and 
 that she could, if any such feeling arose in her heart, summon 
 him at need ? 
 
 It was very late that night before Trelyon returned — he 
 had gone all round by the harbor and the cliffs, and the high- 
 lying church on the hill. All in the house had gone to bed ; 
 but there was a fire burning in the study ; and there were 
 biscuits and wine on the table. A box of cigars stood on the 
 mantel-piece. 
 
 Apparently he was in no mood for the indolent comfort 
 thus suggested. He stood for a minute or two before the 
 fire, staring into it, and seeing other things than the flaming 
 coals there ; then he moved about the room, in an impatient 
 and excited fashion ; finally, with his hand trembling a little 
 bit, he sat down and wrote this note : 
 
 " Dear Mother, — 
 
 " The horses and carriage will be at Launceston Station 
 by the first train on Saturday morning. Will you please send 
 Jakes over for them ? And bid him take the horses up to 
 
 Mr. 's stables, and have them fed, watered, and properly 
 
 rested before he drives them over. 
 
 "Your affectionate son, 
 
 " Harry Trelyon." 
 
 Next morning, as Mabyn Rosewarne was coming briskly 
 up the Trevenna road carrying in her arms a pretty big par- 
 cel, she was startled by the appearance of a young man, who 
 suddenly showed himself overhead, and then scrambled down 
 the rocky bank until he stood beside her. 
 
 " I've been watching for you all the morning, Mabyn," said 
 Trelyon. "I — I want to speak to you. Where are you going ? " 
 
 " Up to Mr. Trewhella's. You know his granddaughter is 
 very nearly quite well again ; and there is to be a great 
 gathering of children there to-night to celebrate her recovery. 
 This is a cake I am carrying that Wenna has made herself." 
 
 " Is Wenna to be there ? " Trelyon said, eagerly. 
 
 il Why, of course," said Mabyn, petulantly. " What do you 
 think the children could do without her ? " 
 
 "Look here, Mabyn," he said. " I want to speak to you 
 
250 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 very particularly. Couldn't you just as well go around by the 
 farm road ? Let me carry your cake for you." 
 
 Mabyn guessed what he wanted to speak about, and will- 
 ingly made the circuit by a more private road leading by one 
 of the upland farms. At a certain point they came to a stile ; 
 and here they rested. So far Trelyon had said nothing of 
 consequence. 
 
 '• Oh, do you know, Mr. Trelyon," Mabyn remarked, quite 
 innocently, " I have been reading such a nice book — all about 
 Jamaica." 
 
 " So you're interested about Jamaica, too ? M said he, rather 
 bitterly. 
 
 " Yes, much. Do you know that it is the most fearful 
 place for storms in the whole world — the most awful hurri- 
 canes that come smashing down everything and killing people. 
 You can't escape if you're in the way of the hurricane. It 
 whirls the roofs off the houses, and twists out the plantain- 
 trees just like straws. The rivers wash away whole acres of 
 canes and swamp the farms. Sometimes the sea rages so 
 that boats are carried right up into the streets of Kingston. 
 There ! " 
 
 " But why does that please you ? " 
 
 " Why," she said, with proud indignation, " the notion of 
 people talking as if they could go out to Jamaica and live 
 forever, and come back just when they please — it is too ridic- 
 ulous ! Many accidents may happen. And isn't November 
 a very bad time for storms ? Ships often get wrecked going 
 out to the West Indies, don't they ? " 
 
 At another time Trelyon would have laughed at this blood- 
 thirsty young woman ; at this moment he was too serious. 
 
 " Mabyn," said he, " I can't bear this any longer — stand- 
 ing by like a fool and looking on while another man is doing 
 his best to marry Wenna : I can't go on like this any longer. 
 Mabyn, when did you say she would leave Mr. Trewhella's 
 house to-night ? " 
 
 " I did not say anything about it. I suppose we shall leave 
 about ten ; the young ones leave at nine." 
 
 " You will be there ? " 
 
 " Yes, Wenna and I are to keep orden" 
 
 " Nobody else with you ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 He looked at her rather hesitatingly. 
 
 " And supposing, Mabyn," he said slowly, " supposing you 
 and Wenna were to leave at ten, and that it is a beautiful 
 clear night, you might walk down by the wood instead of by 
 
A DARK CONSPIRACY. 251 
 
 the road ; and then, supposing that you came out on the road 
 down at the foot, and you found there a carriage and pair of 
 horses — " 
 
 Mabyn began to look alarmed. 
 
 " And if I was there," he continued, more rapidly, " and 
 I said to Wenna suddenly, ' Now, Wenna, think nothing, but 
 come and save yourself from this marriage ! Here is your 
 sister will come with you — and I will drive you to Plym- 
 outh—" 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Trelyon ! " Mabyn cried, with a sudden joy in 
 her face, " she would do it ! She would do it ! " 
 
 " And you, would you come too ? " he demanded. 
 
 "Yes!" the girl cried, full of excitement. "And then, 
 Mr. Trelyon, and then ? " 
 
 " Why," he cried boldly, " up to London at once— twenty- 
 four hours' start of everybody— and in London we are safe I 
 Then, you know, Mabyn — " 
 
 " Yes, yes, Mr. Trelyon ! " 
 
 " Don't you think now that we two could persuade her to a 
 quick marriage — with a special license, you know — you could 
 persuade her, I am sure, Mabyn — " 
 
 In the gladness of her heart Mabyn felt herself at this 
 moment ready to fall on the young man's neck and kiss him. 
 But she was a properly conducted young person ; and so she 
 rose from the big block of slate on which she had been sit- 
 ting, and managed to suppress any great intimation of her 
 abounding joy. But she was very proud, all the same ; and 
 there was a great firmness about her lips as she said — 
 
 " We will do it, Mr. Trelyon ; we will do it. Do you know 
 why Wenna submits to this engagement ? Because she rea- 
 sons with her conscience, and persuades herself that it is 
 right. When you meet her like that, she will have no time to 
 consider — " 
 
 "That is precisely what my grandmother says," Trelyon 
 said, with a triumphant laugh. 
 
 "Yes, she was a girl once," Mabyn replied, sagely. 
 "Well, well, tell me all about it! W r hat arrangements have 
 you made ? You haven't got the special license ? " 
 
 " No," said he, " I didn't make up my mind to try this on 
 till last night. But the difference cf a day is nothing, when 
 you are with her. We shall be able to hide ourselves away- 
 pretty well in London, don't you think ? " 
 
 "Of course!" cried Mabyn, confidently. "But tell me 
 more, Mr. Trelyon ! What have you arranged ? What have 
 you done ? " 
 
252 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 "What could I do until I knew whether you'd help me ? " 
 
 " You must bring a fearful amount of wraps with you." 
 
 " Certainly — more than you'll want, I know. And I sha'n't 
 light the lamps until I hear you coming along; for they 
 would attract attention down in the valley. I should like to 
 wait for you elsewhere ; but if I did that you couldn't get 
 Wenna to come with you. Do you think you will even 
 then?" 
 
 " Oh yes," said Mabyn, cheerfully. " Nothing easier ! I 
 shall tell her she's afraid ; and then she would walk down 
 the face of Black Cliff. By the way, Mr. Trelyon, I must 
 bring something to eat with me, and some wine — she will be 
 so nervous — and the long journey will tire her." 
 
 " You will be at Mr. Trewhella's, Mabyn ; you can't go 
 carrying things about with you ! " 
 
 " I could bring a bit of cake in my pocket," Mabyn 
 suggested ; but this seemed even to her so ludicrous that 
 she blushed and laughed, and agreed that Mr. Trelyon 
 should bring the necessary provisions for the wild night-ride 
 to Plymouth. 
 
 " Oh, it does so please me to think of it ! " she said with a 
 curious anxious excitement as well as gladness in her face ; 
 "I hope I have not forgotten to arrange anything. Let me 
 see — we start at ten ; then down through the wood to the 
 road in the hollow — oh, I hope there will be nobody coming 
 along just then ! — then you light the lamps — then you come 
 forward to persuade Wenna — by the way, Mr. Trelyon, where 
 must I go ? Shall I not be dreadfully in the way ? " 
 
 "You ? You must stand by the horses' heads ! I sha'n't 
 have my man with me. And yet they're not very fiery ani- 
 mals — they'll be less fiery, the unfortunate wretches, when 
 they get to Plymouth." 
 
 " At what time ? " 
 
 " About half-past three in the morning, if we go straight 
 on," said he. 
 
 " Do you know a good hotel there ? " said the practical 
 Mabyn. 
 
 " The best one is by the station ; but if you sleep in the 
 front of the house, you have the whistling of engines all 
 night long, and if you sleep in the back, you overlook a bar- 
 racks, and the confounded trumpeting begins about four 
 o'clock, I think." 
 
 "Wenna and I won't mind that — we shall be too tired," 
 Mabyn said. " Do you think they could give us a little hot 
 coffee when we arrive ? " 
 
A DARK CONSPIRACY. 
 
 253 
 
 " Oh yes ! I'll give the night-porter a sovereign a cup — 
 then he'll offer to bring it to you in buckets. Now don't you 
 think the whole thing is beautifully arranged, Mabyn ? " 
 
 " It is quite lovely ! " the girl said joyously, " for we shall 
 be off with the morning train to London, while Mr. Roscorla 
 is pottering about Launceston Station at mid-day ! " Then 
 we must send a telegram from Plymouth, a fine dramatic 
 telegram ; and my father, he will swear a little, but be quite 
 content, and my mother — do you know, Mr. Trelyon, I believe 
 my mother will be as glad as anybody ! What shall we 
 say ? — ' To Mr. JRosewarne, Eglosilyan. We have fled. Not 
 the least good pursuing us. May as well make up your mind 
 to the inevitable. Will write to-morrow? Is that more than 
 the twenty words for a shilling ? " 
 
 " We sha'n't grudge the other shilling if it is," the young 
 man said. " Now you must go on with your cake, Mabyn. 
 I am off to see after the horses' shoes. Mind, as soon after 
 ten as you can — just where the path from the wood comes 
 into the main road." 
 
 Then she hesitated, and for a second or two she remained 
 thoughtful and silent ; while he was inwardly hoping that she 
 was not going to draw back. Suddenly she looked up at 
 him, with earnest and anxious eyes. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Trelyon," she said, " this is a very serious thing. 
 You — you will be kind to our Wenna after she is married to 
 you?" 
 
 " You will see, Mabyn," he answered, gently. 
 
 " You don't know how sensitive she is," she continued, 
 apparently thinking over all the possibilities of the future in 
 a much graver fashion than she had done, " If you were 
 unkind to her, it would kill her. Are you quite sure you 
 won't regret it ? " 
 
 " Yes, I am quite sure of that," said he, " as sure as a man 
 may be. I don't think you need fear my being unkind to 
 Wenna. Why, what has put such thoughts into your head ? ,: 
 
 " If you were to be cruel to her or indifferent," she said, 
 slowly and absently, "I know that would kill her. But I 
 know more than that. I would kill you" 
 
 " Mabyn," he said, quite startled, " whatever has put such 
 thoughts into your head ? " 
 
 " Why," she said, passionately, " haven't I seen already 
 how a man can treat her ? Haven't I read the insolent let- 
 ters he has sent her ? Haven't I seen her throw herself on 
 her bed, beside herself with grief ? And — and — these are 
 things I don't forget, Mr. Trelyon. No, I have got a word 
 
254 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 to say to Mr. Roscorla yet for his treatment of my sister — 
 and I will say it. And then — " 
 
 The proud lips were beginning to quiver. 
 
 " Come, come, Mabyn," said Trelyon, gently, " don't imag- 
 ine all men are the same. And perhaps Roscorla will have 
 been paid out quite sufficiently when he hears of to-night's 
 work. I sha'n't bear him any malice after that, I know. 
 Already, I confess, I feel a good deal of compunction as re- 
 gards him." 
 
 "I don't at all — I don't a bit," said Mabyn, who very 
 quickly recovered herself whenever Mr. Roscorla's name was 
 mentioned. " If you can only get her to go away with you, 
 Mr. Trelyon, it will serve him just right. Indeed, it is on 
 his account that I hope you will be successful. I — I don't quite 
 like Wenna running away with you, to tell you the truth — I 
 would rather have her left to a quiet decision, and to a mar- 
 riage with everybody approving. But there is no chance of 
 that. This is the only thing that will save her." 
 
 " That is precisely what I said to you," Trelyon said, 
 eagerly, for he was afraid of losing so invaluable an ally. 
 
 " And you will be very, very kind to her ? " 
 
 "I'm not good at fine words, Mabyn. You'll see." 
 
 She held out her hand to him, and pressed his warmly. 
 
 " I believe you will be a good husband to her ; and I know 
 you will get the best wife in the whole world ! " 
 
 She was going away when he suddenly said — 
 
 " Mabyn \ " 
 
 She turned. 
 
 "Do you know," said he, rather shamefacedly, "how 
 much I am grateful to you for all your frank straightforward 
 kindness — and your help — and your courage — " 
 
 " No, no \ " said the young girl, good-humoredly. " You 
 make Wenna happy, and don't consider me 1 " 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 UNDER THE WHITE STARS. 
 
 During the whole glad evening Wenna had been Queen 
 of the Feast, and her subjects had obeyed her with a joyous 
 submission. They did not take quite so kindly to Mabyn, 
 for she was sharp of tongue and imperious in her ways ; but 
 they knew that they could tease her elder sister with impu- 
 
UNDER THE WHITE STARS. 255 
 
 nity — always up to the well-understood line at which her au- 
 thority began. That was never questioned. 
 
 Then, at nine o'clock, the servants came, some on foot and 
 some in dog-carts ; and presently there was a bundling up of 
 tiny figures in rugs and wraps, and Wenna stood at the door 
 to kiss each of them and say good-bye. It was half-past 
 nine when that performance was over. 
 
 "Now, my dear Miss Wenna," said the old clergyman, you 
 must be quite tired out with your labors. Come into the 
 study — I believe the tray has been taken in there." 
 
 " Do you know, Mr. Trewhella," said Mabyn boldly, " that 
 Wenna hadn't time to eat a single bit when all those children 
 were gobbling up cake. Couldn't you let her have a little 
 bit — a little bit of cold meat now — " 
 
 " Dear, dear me ! " said the kind old gentleman, in the 
 deepest distress, " that I should not have remembered ! " 
 
 There was no use in Wenna protesting. In the snug little 
 study she was made to eat some supper ; and if she got off 
 with drinking one glass of sherry it was not through the in- 
 tervention of her sister, who apparently would have had her 
 drink a tumblerful. 
 
 It was not until a quarter past ten that the girls could get 
 away. 
 
 " Now I must see you young ladies down to the village, lest 
 some one should run away with you," the old clergyman said, 
 taking down his top-coat. 
 
 " Oh no, you must not — you must not, indeed, Mr. Trew- 
 hella ! " Mabyn said, anxiously. " Wenna and I always go 
 about by ourselves — and far later than this too. It is a beau- 
 tiful, clear night ! Why — " 
 
 Her impetuosity made her sister smile. 
 
 "You talk as if you would rather like to be run away with, 
 Mabyn," she said. " But indeed, Mr. Trewhella, you must 
 not think of coming with us. It is quite true what Mabyn 
 says." 
 
 And so they went out into the clear darkness together ; and 
 the door was shut ; and they found themselves in the silent 
 world of the night-time, with the white stars throbbing over- 
 head. Far away in the distance they could hear the murmur 
 of the sea. 
 
 " Are you cold, Mabyn, that you tremble so ? " said the elder 
 sister. 
 
 « No — only a sort of shiver in coming out into the night 
 air." 
 
256 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 Whatever it was it was soon over. Mabyn seemed to be 
 unusually cheerful. 
 
 " Wenna," she said, " you're afraid of ghosts ?" 
 
 " No, I'm not." 
 
 "I know you are." 
 
 " I'm not half as much afraid of ghosts as you are, that's 
 quite certain." 
 
 " I bet you you won't walk down through the wood." 
 
 " Just now ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Why, I'll not only go down through the wood, but I'll un- 
 dertake to be home before you, though you've a broad road 
 to guide you." 
 
 •* But I did not mean you to go alone." 
 
 " Oh," said Wenna, " you propose to come with me ? Then 
 it is you who are afraid to go down by yourself ? Oh, Mabyn ! " 
 
 "Never mind, Wenna — let's go down through the wood 
 just for fun." 
 
 So the two sisters set out, arm-in-arm ; and through some 
 spirit of mischief Wenna would not speak a word. Mabyn 
 was gradually overawed by the silence, the night, the loneli- 
 ness of the road, and the solemn presence of the great living 
 vault above them. Moreover, before getting into the wood, 
 they had to skirt a curious little dingle, in the hollow of which 
 are both a church and churchyard. Many a time the sisters 
 had come up to this romantic dell in the spring-time, to gather 
 splendid primroses, sweet violets, the yellow celandine, and 
 other wild flowers that grow luxuriantly on its steep banks ; 
 and very pretty the old church looked then, with the clear 
 sunshine of April streaming down through the scantily leaved 
 trees into this sequestered spot. Now the deep hole was 
 black as night ; and they could only make out a bit of the 
 spire of the church as it appeared against the dark sky. Nay, 
 was there not a sound among the fallen leaves and under- 
 wood down there, in the direction of the unseen graves ? 
 
 " Some cow has strayed in there, I believe," said Mabyn, 
 in a somewhat low voice ; and she walked rather quickly un- 
 til they got past the place and out on the hill over the wooded 
 valley. 
 
 " Now," said Wenna, cheerfully, not wishing to have Mabyn 
 put in a real fright, " as we go down I am going to tell you 
 something, Mabyn. How would you like to have to prepare 
 for a wedding in a fortnight ? " 
 
 " Not at all ! " said Mabyn promptly, even fiercely. 
 
 " Not if it was Your own ? " 
 
UNDER THE WHITE STARS. 257 
 
 « N _ w hy, the insult of such a request I " 
 According to Mabyn's way of thinking it was an insult to 
 ask a girl to marry you in a fortnight, but none to insist on 
 her marrying you the day after to-morrow. 
 
 " You think that a girl could fairly plead that as an excuse 
 —the mere time to get one's dresses and things ready ? " 
 "Certainly!" . • 
 
 " Oh, Mabyn," said Wenna, far more seriously, it is not 
 of dresses I am thinking at all ; but I shudder to think of get- 
 ting married just now. I could not do it. I have not had 
 enough time to forget what is past— and until that is done, 
 how could I marry any man ? " 
 
 "Wenna, I do love you when you talk like that? ner 
 sister cried. " You can be so wise and reasonable when you 
 choose ! Of course you are quite right, dear. But you don't 
 mean to say he wants you to get married before he goes to 
 Jamaica, and then to leave you alone ? " 
 
 " Oh no. He wants me to go with him to Jamaica. 
 Mabyn uttered a short cry of alarm. 
 
 " To Jamaica ! To take you away from the whole of us — 
 w h y — oh, Wenna, I do hate being a girl so— for you're not 
 allowed to swear — if I were a man now ! To Jamaica ! Why 
 don't you know that there are hundreds of people always 
 being killed there by the most frightful hurricanes and earth- 
 quakes, and large serpents in the woods ? To Jamaica ?— 
 no, you are not going to Jamaica just yet 1 I don't think 
 you are going to Jamaica just yet ! " 
 
 <• No, indeed, I am not," said Wenna, with a quiet decision. 
 " Nor could I think of getting married in any case at present. 
 But then— don't you see, Mabyn— Mr. Roscorla is just a 
 little peculiar in some ways — " 
 " Yes, certainly." 
 
 « And he likes to have a definite reason for what you do. 
 
 If I were to tell him of the repugnance I have to the notion 
 of getting married just now, he would call it mere sentiment, 
 and try to argue me out of it — then we should have a quarrel. 
 But if, as you say, a girl may fairly refuse in point of time — " 
 " Now, I'll tell you," said Mabyn, plainly ; " no girl can 
 get married properly who hasn't six months to get ready in. 
 She might manage in three or four months, for a man she was 
 particularly fond of ; but if it is a mere stranger— and a disa- 
 greeable person— and one who ought not to marry her at all 
 —then six months is the very shortest time. Just you send 
 Mr. Roscorla to me, and I'll tell him all about it." 
 Wenna laughed. 
 
258 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " Yes, I've no doubt you would. I think he's more afraid 
 of you than all the serpents and snakes in Jamaica." 
 
 " Yes, and he'll have more cause to be before he's much 
 older," said Mabyn, confidently. 
 
 They could not continue their conversation just then, for 
 they were going down the side of the hill, between short trees 
 and bushes ; and the path was broad enough only for one, 
 while there were many dark places demanding caution. 
 
 " Seen any ghosts yet ? " Wenna called out to Mabyn, who 
 was behind her. 
 
 "Ghosts, sir? Ay, ay, sir! Heave away on the larboard 
 beam ! I say, Wenna, isn't it uncommon dark ? " 
 
 " It is uncommonly dark." 
 
 " Gentlemen always say uncommon ; and all the grammars 
 are written by gentlemen. Oh, Wenna, wait a bit ; I've lost 
 my brooch ! " 
 
 It was no ruse, for a wonder; the brooch had, indeed, 
 dropped out of her shawl. She felt all over the dark ground 
 for it, but her search was in vain. 
 
 " Well, here's a nice thing ! Upon my — " 
 
 " Mabyn ! " 
 
 " Upon my — trotting pony ; that was all I was going to say. 
 Wenna, will you stay here for a minute, and I'll run down to 
 the foot of the hill and get a match ?" 
 
 " How can you get a match at the foot of the hill ? You'll 
 have to go on to the inn. No, tie you handkerchief around 
 the foot of one of the trees, and come up early in the morning 
 to look." 
 
 " Early in the morning ? " said Mabyn. " I hope to be in 
 — I mean asleep then." 
 
 Twice she had nearly blurted out the secret; and it is 
 highly probable that her refusal to adopt Wenna's suggestion 
 would have led her sister to suspect something, had not 
 Wenna herself, by accident, kicked against the missing brooch. 
 As it was, the time lost by this misadventure was grievous to 
 Mabyn, who now insisted on leading the way, and went along 
 through the bushes at a rattling pace. Here and there the 
 belated wanderers startled a blackbird, that went shrieking 
 its fright over to the other side of the valley ; but Mabyn 
 was now too much preoccupied to be unnerved. 
 
 " Keeping a look-out ahead ? " Wenna called. 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir ! No ghosts on the weather quarter ! Ship 
 drawing twenty fathoms, and the mate fast asleep. Oh, 
 Wenna, my hat ! " 
 
 It had been twitched off her head by one of the branches 
 
UNDER THE WHITE STARS. 259 
 
 of the young trees through which she was passing, and the 
 pliant bit of wood, being released from the strain, had thrown 
 it down into the dark bushes and briers. 
 
 " Well, I'm — no, I'm not ! " said Mabyn, as she picked out 
 the hat from among the thorns, and straightened the twisted 
 feather. Then she set out again, impatient over these delays ; 
 and yet determined not to let her courage sink. 
 
 " Land ahead yet ? " called out Wenna. 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir ! and the Lizard on our lee ! Wind S.S.W., 
 and the cargo shifting a point to the east. Hurrah ! " 
 
 " Mabyn, they'll hear you a mile off ! " 
 
 It was certainly Mabyn's intention that she should be heard 
 at least a quarter of a mile off, for now they had got down to 
 the open, and they could hear the stream some way ahead of 
 them which they would have to cross. At this point Mabyn 
 paused for a second to let her sister overtake her ; then they 
 went on arm-in-arm. 
 
 " Oh, Wenna," she said, " do you remember ' young Lochin- 
 vaS f " 
 
 "Of course!" 
 
 " Didn't you fall in love with him when you read about him ? 
 Now, there was somebody to fall in love with ! Don't you re- 
 member, when he came into Netherby Hall, that 
 
 ' The bride-maidens whispered, " 'Twere better by far 
 
 To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar " ? ' 
 
 And then you know, Wenna — 
 
 ' One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, 
 
 When they reached the hall-door, and the charger stood near ; 
 
 So light to the croup the fair lady he swung, 
 
 So light to the saddle before her he sprung ! 
 
 " She is won ! we are gone — over bank, bush, and scaur ! 
 
 They'll have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lochinvar.' 
 
 That was a lover now ! " 
 
 "I think he was a most impertinent young man," said 
 Wenna. 
 
 " I rather like a young man to be impertinent," said Mabyn, 
 boldly. 
 
 "Then there won't be any difficulty about fitting you with 
 a husband," said Wenna, with a light laugh. 
 
 Here Mabyn once more went on ahead, picking her steps 
 through the damp grass as she made her way down to the 
 stream. Wenna was still in the highest of spirits, 
 
 " Walking the plank yet, boatswain ? " she called out. 
 
2<5o THREE FEA THERS. n 
 
 " Not yet, sir,'' Mabyn called in return. " Ship wearing 
 round on the leeward tack, and the waves running mountains 
 high. Don't you hear 'em, captain ? " 
 
 " Look out for the breakers, boatswain ! " 
 
 u Ay, ay, sir ! All hands on deck to man the captain's gig ! 
 Belay away there ! Avast ! Mind, Wenna ! here's the 
 bridge ! " 
 
 Crossing over that single plank, in the dead of the night, 
 was a sufficiently dangerous experiment ; but both these 
 young ladies had had plenty of experience in keeping their 
 wits about them in more perilous places. 
 
 " Why are you in such a hurry, Mabyn ? " Wenna said, 
 when they had crossed. 
 
 Mabyn did not know what to answer ; she was very much 
 excited, and inclined to talk at random merely to cover her 
 anxiety. She was now very late for the appointment, and 
 who could tell what unfortunate misadventure Harry Trelyon 
 might have met with ? 
 
 " Oh, I don't know," she said. " Why don't you admire 
 young Lochinvar ? Wenna. you're like the Lacedaemons." 
 
 " Like the what ? " 
 
 " Like the Lacedaemons, that were neither cold nor hot. 
 Why don't you admire young Lochinvar ? " 
 
 " Because he was interfering with another man's property." 
 
 " That man had no right to her," said Mabyn, talking rather 
 wildly, and looking on ahead to the point at which the path 
 through the meadows went up the road — "he was a wretched 
 animal, I know; I believe he was a sugar-broker, and had 
 just come home from Jamaica." 
 
 " I believe," said Wenna — " I believe that young Lochin- 
 var—" 
 
 She stopped. 
 
 " What's that ? " she said. " What are those two lights up 
 there ? " 
 
 " They're riot ghosts : come along, Wenna ! " said Mabyn, 
 hurriedly. 
 
 Let us go up to this road, where Harry Trelyon, tortured 
 with anxiety and impatience, is waiting. He had slipped 
 away from the house pretty nearly as soon as the gentlemen 
 had gone into the drawing-room after dinner, and on some 
 excuse or other had got the horses put to a light and yet 
 roomy Stanhope phaeton. From the stable-yard he drove by 
 a back way into the main road without passing in front of 
 the Hall ; then he quietly walked the horses down the steep 
 
UNDER THE WHITE STARS. 261 
 
 hill, and around the foot of the valley to the point at which 
 Mabyn was to make her appearance. 
 
 But he dared not stop there ; for now and again some pas- 
 ser-by came along the road ; and even in the darkness Mrs. 
 Trelyon's gray horses would be recognized by any of the in- 
 habitants of Eglosilyan, who would naturally wonder what 
 Master Harry was waiting for. He walked them a few hun- 
 dred yards one way, then a few hundred yards the other ; and 
 ever, as it seemed to him, the danger was growing greater of 
 some one from the inn or from the Hall suddenly appearing 
 and spoiling the whole plan. 
 
 Half-past ten arrived ; and nothing could be heard from 
 the girls. Then a horrible thought struck him that Roscorla 
 might by this time have left the Hall ; and would he not be 
 coming down to this very road on his way up to Basset Cottage ? 
 This was no idle fear ; it was almost a matter of certainty. 
 
 The minutes rolled themselves out into ages ; he kept 
 looking at his watch every few seconds ; yet he could hear 
 nothing from the wood or the valley of Mabyn's approach. 
 Then he got down into the road, walked a few yards this 
 way and that, apparently to stamp the nervousness out of his 
 system, patted the horses, and, finally, occupied himself in 
 lighting the lamps. He was driven by the delay into a sort 
 of desperation. Even if Wenna and Mabyn did appear now, 
 and if he were successful in his prayer, there was every chance 
 of their being interrupted by Roscorla, who had without 
 doubt left the Hall sometime before. 
 
 Suddenly he stopped in his excited walking up and down. 
 Was that a faint " Hurrah ! " that he heard in the distance ? 
 He went down to the stile at the junction of the path and 
 the road, and listened attentively. Yes, he he could hear at 
 least one voice, as yet a long way off ; but now he had no 
 more doubt. He walked quickly back to the carriage. 
 
 " Ho, ho, my hearties ! " he said, stroking the heads of the 
 horses, "you'll have a Dick Turpin's ride to-night." 
 
 All the nervousness had gone from him now ; he was full 
 of a strange sort of exultation — the joy of a man who feels 
 that the crisis in his life has come, and that he has the power 
 and courage to face it. 
 
 He heard them come up from the meadow to the stile ; it 
 was Wenna who was talking ; Mabyn was quite silent. They 
 came along the road. 
 
 " What is this carriage doing here ? " Wenna said. 
 
 They drew still nearer. 
 
 " They are Mrs. Trelyon's horses, and there is no driver — " 
 
262 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 At this moment Harry Trelyon came quickly forward and 
 stood in the road before her; while Mabyn as quickly went 
 on and disappeared. The girl was startled, bewildered, but 
 not frightened ; for in a second he had taken her by the hand, 
 and then she heard him say to her, in anxious, low, implor- 
 ing voice— 
 
 " Wenna, my darling, don't be alarmed ! See here, I have 
 got everthing ready to take you away — and Mabyn is coming 
 with us — and you know I love you so that I can't bear the 
 notion of your falling into that man's hands. Now, Wenna, 
 don't think about it ! Come with me ! We shall be married 
 in London — Mabyn is coining with you — " 
 
 For one brief second or two she seemed stunned and 
 alarmed; then, looking at the carriage, and the earnest sup- 
 pliant before her, the whole truth appeared to flash in upon 
 her. She looked wildly around. 
 
 " Mabyn — " she was about to say, when he guessed the 
 meaning of her rapid look. 
 
 " Mabyn is here. She is quite close by — she is coming 
 with us. My darling, won't you let me save you ! This in- 
 deed is our last chance. Wenna ! — " 
 
 She was trembling so that he thought she would fall ; and 
 he would have put his arms around her, but that she drew 
 back, and in so doing she got into the light, and then he saw 
 the immeasurable pity and sadness of her eyes. 
 
 "Oh, my love," she said, with the tears running down her 
 face, " I love you ! I will tell you that now, when we speak 
 for the last time. See, I will kiss you — and then you will go 
 away — " 
 
 " I will not go away — not without you — this night. Wenna, 
 dearest, you have let your heart speak at last — now let it tell 
 what to do ! " 
 
 " Oh, must I go ? Must I go ? " she said ; and then she 
 looked wildly around again. 
 
 " Mabyn ! " called out Trelyon, half mad with joy and 
 triumph, " Mabyn, come along ! Look sharp, jump in ! This 
 way, my darling ! " 
 
 And he took the trembling girl, and half lifted her into tht 
 carriage. 
 
 " Oh, my love, what am I doing for you this night ! " she said 
 to him, with her eyes swimming in tears. 
 
 But what was the matter with Mabyn ? She was just put- 
 ting her foot on the iron step when a rapidly approaching fig- 
 ure caused her to utter a cry of alarm, and she stumbled back 
 into the road again. The very accident that Trelyon had 
 
INTO CAPTIVITY. 263 
 
 been anticipating had occurred ; here was Mr. Roscorla, be- 
 wildered at first, and then blind with rage when he saw what 
 was happening before his eyes. In his desperation and an- 
 ger he was about to lay hold of Mabyn by the arm when he 
 was sent staggering backwards half-a-dozen yards. 
 
 " Don't interfere with me now, or by God I will kill you ! " 
 Trelyon said, between his teeth ; and then he hurried Mabyn 
 into the carriage. 
 
 What was the sound then that the still woods heard, under 
 the throbbing stars, through the darkness that lay over the 
 land ? Only the sound of horses' feet, monotonous and regu- 
 lar, and not a word of joy or sorrow uttered by any one of the 
 party thus hurrying on through the night. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 INTO CAPTIVITY. 
 
 Towards eleven o'clock that night Mrs. Rosewarne became 
 a little anxious about her girls, and asked her husband to go 
 and meet them, or to fetch them away if they were still at Mr. 
 Trewhella's house. 
 
 " Can't they look after themselves ? " said George Rose- 
 warne. " I'll be bound Mabyn can, anyway. Let her alone 
 to come back when she pleases." 
 
 Then his wife began to fret ; and, as this made him uncom- 
 fortable, he said he would walk up the road and meet them. 
 He had no intention of doing so, of course ; but it was a good 
 excuse for getting away from a fidgety wife. He went out- 
 side into the clear starlight, and lounged down to the small 
 bridge beside the mill, contentedly smoking his pipe. 
 
 There he encountered a farmer who was riding home a cob 
 he had bought that day at Launceston ; and the farmer and 
 he began to have a chat about horses suggested by that cir- 
 cumstance. Oddly enough, their random talk came round to 
 young Trelyon. 
 
 "Your thoroughbreds won't do for this county," George 
 Rosewarne was saying, " to go flying a stone wall and break- 
 ing your neck. No, sir ! I'll tell you what sort of hunter I 
 should like to have for these parts. I'd have him half-bred, 
 short in the leg, short in the pastern, short in the back, a good 
 sloping shoulder, broad in the chest and the forehead, long 
 in the belly, and iust the least bit over fifteen hands — eh 1 
 
264 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 Mr. Thorns ? I don't think beauty's of much consequence 
 when your neck's in question. Let him be as angular and 
 ragged in the hips as you like, so long's his ribs are well up 
 to the hip-bone. Have you seen that black horse that young 
 Trelyon rides ? " 
 
 " Tis a noble beast, sir — a noble beast," the farmer said ; 
 and he would probably have gone on to state what ideal ani- 
 mal had been constructed by his lavish imagination had not 
 a man come running up at this moment, breathless and al- 
 most speechless. 
 
 " Rosewarne," stammered Mr. Roscorla, " a — a word with 
 you ! I want to say — " 
 
 The farmer, seeing he was in the way, called out a careless 
 good-night, and rode on. 
 
 " Well, what's the matter ? " said George Rosewarne, a little 
 snappishly : he did not like being worried by excitable people. 
 
 " Your daughters ! " gasped Mr. Roscorla. " They've both 
 run away — both of them — this minute — with Trelyon ! You'll 
 have to ride after them. They're straight away along the 
 high-road." 
 
 " Both of them ? the infernal young fools ! " said Rose- 
 warne. " Why the devil didn't you stop them yourself? " 
 
 " How could I ? " Roscorla said, amazed that the father 
 took the flight of his daughters with apparent equanimity. 
 " You must make haste, Mr. Rosewarne, or you'll never catch 
 them." 
 
 " I've a good mind to let 'em go," said he sulkily, as he 
 walked over to the stables of the inn. " The notion of a man 
 having to set out on a wild-goose chase at this time o' 
 night ! Run away, have they ? and what in all the world 
 have they run away for ? " 
 
 It occurred to him, however, that the sooner he got a horse 
 saddled and set out, the less distance he would have to go in 
 pursuit; and that consideration quickened his movements. 
 
 " What's it all about ? " said he to Roscorla, who had fol- 
 lowed him into the stable. 
 
 " I suppose they mean a runaway match," said Mr. Ros- 
 corla, helping to saddle George Rosewarne's cob, a famous 
 trotter. 
 
 " It's that young devil's limb, Mabyn, I'll be bound," said 
 the father. " I wish to heaven somebody would marry her 
 — I don't care who. She's always up to some confounded 
 mischief." 
 
 " No, no, no ! " Roscorla said ; " it's Wenna he means to 
 marry." 
 
INTO CAPTIVITY. 2t>5 
 
 " Why, you were to have married Wenna — " 
 
 " Yes, but—" 
 
 "Then why didn't you ? So she's run away, has she ? " 
 
 George Rosewarne grinned : he saw how the matter lay. 
 
 " This is Mabyn's work, I know," said he, as he put his 
 foot in the stirrup, and sprang into the saddle. " You'd bet- 
 ter go home, Roscorla. Don't you say a word to anybody. 
 You don't want the girl made a fool of all through the 
 place." 
 
 So George Rosewarne set out to bring back his daughters ; 
 not galloping as an anxious parent might, but going ahead 
 with a long, steady-going trot, which he knew would soon 
 tell on Mrs. Trelyon's overfed and under-exercised horses. 
 
 " If they mean Plymouth," he was thinking, " as is most 
 likely from their taking the high-road, he'll give it them gent- 
 ly at first. And so that young man wants to marry our 
 Wenna. 'Twould be a fine match for her ; and yet she's 
 worth all the money he's got — she's worth it every farthing. 
 I'd give him the other one cheap enough." 
 
 Pounding along a dark road, with the consciousness that 
 the farther you go the farther you've got to get back, and. 
 that the distance still to be done is an indeterminate quan- 
 tity, is agreeable to no one ; but it was especially vexatious 
 to George Rosewarne, who liked to take things quietly, and 
 could not understand what all the tuss was about. Why 
 should he be sent on this mad chase at midnight ? If any- 
 body wanted to marry either of the girls, why didn't he do 
 so, and say no more about it ? Rosewarne had been merely 
 impatient and annoyed when he set out ; but the longer he 
 rode, and the more he communed with himself, the deeper 
 grew his sense of the personal injury that had been done 
 him by this act of folly. 
 
 It was a very lonely ride indeed. There was not a hu- 
 man being abroad at that hour. When he passed a few 
 cottages from time to time the windows were dark. Then 
 they had just been putting down a lot of loose stones at sev- 
 eral parts of the road, which caused Mr. Rosewarne to 
 swear. 
 
 " I'll bet a sovereign," said he to himself, " that old Job 
 kept them a quarter of an "hour before he opened Paddock's 
 Gate. I believe the old fool goes to bed. Well, they've 
 waked him up for me, anyway." 
 
 There was some consolation in this surmise, which was 
 well founded. When Rosewarne reached the toll-bar, there 
 
266 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 was at least a light in the small house. He struck on the 
 door with the handle of his riding-whip, and called out — 
 
 " Hi, hi ! Job ! Come out, you old fool !" 
 
 An old man, with very bandy legs, came hobbling out of 
 the toll-house, and went to open the gate, talking and mut- 
 tering to himself — 
 
 "Ay, ay! so yii be agwoin' after the young uns, Maister 
 Rosewarne ? Ay, ay ! yu'll go up many a lane, and by many 
 a fuzzy 'ill, and acrass a bridge or two afore yii come up wi' 
 'en, Maister Rosewarne." 
 
 " Look sharp, Job ! " said Rosewarne. " Carriage been 
 through here lately ? " 
 
 " Ay, ay, Maister Rosewarne ! 'tis a good half-hour 
 agone." 
 
 " A half-hour, you idiot ? " said Rosewarne, now in a thor- 
 oughly bad temper. "You've been asleep and dreaming. 
 Here, take your confounded money ! " 
 
 So he rode on again, not believing, of course, old Job's 
 malicious fabrication, but being rendered all the same a lit- 
 tle uncomfortable by it. Fortunately, the cob had not been 
 out before that day. 
 
 More deep lanes, more high, open, windy spaces, more si- 
 lent cottages, more rough stones ; and always the measured 
 fall of the cob's feet and the continued shining and throbbing 
 of the stars overhead. At last, far away ahead, on the top 
 of a high incline, he caught sight of a solitary point of rud- 
 dy fire, which presently disappeared. That, he concluded, 
 was the carriage he was pursuing going around a corner, 
 and showing only the one lamp as it turned. They were not 
 so far in front of him as he had supposed. 
 
 But how to overtake them ? So soon as they heard the 
 sound of his horse would they dash onward at all risks, and 
 have a race for it all through the night ? In that case, 
 George Rosewarne inwardly resolved that they might go to 
 Plymouth, or into the deep sea beyond, before he would in- 
 jure his favorite cob. 
 
 On the other hand, he could not bring them to a stand-still 
 by threatening to shoot at his own daughters, even if he had 
 had anything with him that would look like a pistol. Should 
 he have to rely then on the moral terrors of a parent's 
 authority ? George Rosewarne was inclined to laugh when 
 he thought of his overawing in this fashion the high spirit of 
 his younger daughter. 
 
 By slow and sure degrees he gained on the fugitives ; 
 aud as he could now catch some sound of the rattling of the 
 
INTO CAPTIVITY. 267 
 
 carriage-wheels, they must also hear his horse's footfall.. 
 Were they trying to get away from him ? On the contrary, 
 the carriage stopped altogether. 
 
 That was Harry Trelyon's decision. For some time back 
 he had been listening attentively. At length he said — 
 
 " Don't you hear some one riding back there ? " 
 
 " Yes, I do ! " said Wenna, beginning to tremble. 
 
 " I suppose it is Mr. Roscorla coming after us," the young 
 man said coolly. " Now I think it would be a shame to drag 
 the old gentleman half-way down to Plymouth. He must 
 have had a good spell already. Shall I stop, and persuade 
 him to go back home to bed ? " 
 
 " Oh no ! " said Mabyn, who was all for getting on at any 
 risk. 
 
 " Oh no ! " Wenna said, fearing the result of an encounter 
 between the two men. 
 
 " I must stop," Trelyon said. " It's such precious hard 
 lines on him. I shall easily persuade him that he would be 
 better at home." 
 
 So he pulled up the horses, and quietly waited by the road- 
 side for a few minutes. The unknown rider drew nearer and 
 more near. 
 
 " That isn't Roscorla's pony," said Trelyon, listening. 
 " That's more like your father's cob." 
 
 " My father ! " said Wenna in a low voice. 
 
 " My darling, you needn't be afraid, whoever it is," Trelyon 
 said. 
 
 " Certainly not," added Mabyn, who was far more un- 
 comfortable than she chose to appear. "Who can prevent 
 us going on ? They don't lock you up in convents nowadays. 
 If it is Mr. Roscorla, you just let me talk to him," 
 
 Their doubt on that head was soon set at rest. White 
 Charley, with his long swinging trot, soon brought George 
 Rosewarne up to the side of the phaeton, and the girls, long 
 ere he had arrived, had recognized in the gloom the tall 
 figure of their father. Even Mabyn was a trifle nervous. 
 
 But George Rosewarne — perhaps because he was a little 
 pacified by their having stopped — did not rage and fume as a 
 father is expected to do whose daughter has run away from 
 him. As soon as he had pulled up his horse, he called out 
 in a petulant tone — 
 
 " Well ! what the devil is all this about ? " 
 
 "I'll tell you, sir," said Trelyon, quite respectfully and 
 quite firmly. " I wished to marry your daughter Wenna — " 
 
 " And why couldn't you do that in Eglosilyan, instead of 
 
263 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 making a fool of everybody all around ? " Rosewarne said, 
 still talking in an angry and vexed way, as of one who had 
 been personally injured. 
 
 " Oh, dada ! " Mabyn cried, " you don't know how it 
 happened; but they couldn't have got married there. There's 
 that horrid old wretch, Mr. Roscorla — and Wenna was quite 
 a slave to him, and afraid of him — and the only way was to 
 carry her away from him — and so — " 
 
 " Hold your tongue, Mabyn ! " her father said. " You'd 
 drive a windmill with your talk ! " 
 
 " But what she says is true enough," Trelyon said. " Ros- 
 corla has a claim on her — this was my only chance, and I 
 took it. Now look here, Mr. Rosewarne ; you've a right to 
 be angry and all that — perhaps you are ; but what good will 
 it do you to see Wenna left to marry Roscorla ? " 
 
 " What good will it do me ? " said Geosge Rosewarne 
 pettishly. " I don't care which of you she marries — " 
 
 " Then you'll let us go on, dada ? " Mabyn cried. " Will 
 you come with us? Oh, do come with us! We're only 
 going to Plymouth." 
 
 Even the angry father could not withstand the absurdity of 
 this appeal. He burst into a roar of ill-tempered laughter. 
 
 " I like that ! " he cried. " Asking a man to help his 
 daughter to run away from his own house ! It's my impres- 
 sion, my young mistress, that you're at the bottom of all this 
 nonsense. Come, come ! enough of it, Trelyon ! be a sensible 
 fellow, and turn your horses round — why, the notion of going 
 to Plymouth at this time o' night ! " 
 
 Trelyon looked at his companion. She put her hand on 
 his arm, and said, in a trembling whisper — 
 
 " Oh yes ! pray let us go back," 
 
 " You know what you are going to, then ? " said he coldly. 
 She trembled still more. 
 
 " Come, come ! " said her father, " you mustn't stop here 
 all night. You may thank me for preventing your becoming 
 the talk of the whole country." 
 
 " I shouldn't have minded that much," Mabyn said rue- 
 fully, and very like to cry, indeed, as the horses set out upon 
 their journey back to Eglosilyan. 
 
 It was not ? pleasant journey for any of them — least of all 
 for Wenna Rosewarne, who having been bewildered by one 
 wild glimpse of liberty, felt with terror and infinite sadness 
 and despair the old manacles closing around her life again. 
 And what although the neighbors might remain in ignorance 
 
INTO CAPTIVITY. 269 
 
 of what she had done? She herself knew, and that was 
 enough. 
 
 " You think no one will know ? " Mabyn called out spite- 
 fully to her father. " Do you think old Job at the gate has 
 lost either his tongue or his nasty temper ? " 
 
 " Leave Job to me," the father replied. 
 
 When they got to Paddock's Gate the old man had again 
 to be roused, and he came out grumbling. 
 
 " Well, you discontented old sinner ! " Rosewarne called to 
 him, " don't you like having to earn a living ? " 
 
 " A fine livin' to wait on folks that don't knaw their own 
 mind, and keep comin' and goin' along the road o' nights like 
 a weaver's shuttle. Hm ! " 
 
 " Well, Job, you sha'n'i suffer for it this time," Rosewarne 
 said. " I've won my bet. If you made fifty pounds by rid- 
 ing a few miles out, what would you give the gatekeeper ? " 
 
 Even that suggestion failed to inveigle Job into a better 
 humor, 
 
 " Here's a sovereign for you, Job. Now go to bed. Good- 
 night : " 
 
 How long the distance seemed to be ere they saw the lights 
 of Eglosilyan again ! There were only one or two small points 
 of red fire, indeed, where the inn stood. The rest of the vil- 
 lage was buried in darkness. 
 
 " Oh ! what will mother say ? " Wenna said in a low voice 
 to her sister. 
 
 " She will be very sorry we did not get away altogether," 
 Mabyn answered. " And of course it was Mr. Roscorla who 
 spoiled it. Nobody knew anything about it but himself. He 
 must have run on to the inn and told some one. Wasn't it 
 mean, Wenna ? Couldn't he see that he wasn't wanted ? " 
 
 " Are you talking of Mr. Roscorla ? " Trelyon said — George 
 Rosewarne was a bit ahead at this moment. " I wish to good- 
 ness I had gagged him and slung him below the phaeton. I 
 knew he would be coming down there. I expected him every 
 moment. Why were you so late, Mabyn ? " 
 
 " Oh ! you needn't blame me, Mr. Trelyon,' said Mabyn, 
 rather hurt. * You know I did everything I could for you." 
 
 "I know you did, Mabyn: I wish it had turned out bet- 
 ter." 
 
 What was this, then, that Wenna heard, as she sat there, be- 
 wildered, apprehensive, and sad-hearted ? Had her own sis- 
 ter joined in this league to carry her off? Was it not merely 
 the audacity of young Trelyon that had led to their 
 
2;o THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 meeting ? But she was altogether too frightened and wretch- 
 ed to be angry. 
 
 As they got down into Eglosilyan, and turned the sharp 
 corner over the bridge, they did not notice the figure of a man 
 who had been concealing himself in the darkness of a shed 
 belonging to a slate-yard. So soon as they had passed he went 
 some little way after them until, from the bridge, he could see 
 them stop at the door of the inn. Was it Mrs. Rosewarne 
 who came out of the glare, and with something like a cry of 
 delight caught her daughter in her arms ? He watched the 
 figures go inside, and the phaeton drive away up the hill ; then, 
 in the perfect silence of the night, he turned and slowly made 
 his way towards Basset Cottage. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 AN ANGRY INTERVIEW. 
 
 Next morning George Rosewarne was seated on the old 
 oak bench in front of the inn, reading a newspaper. Hap- 
 pening to look up, he saw Mr. Roscorla hurrying towards 
 him over the bridge, with no very pleasant expression on his 
 face. As he came nearer, he saw that the man was strangely 
 excited. 
 
 " I want to see your daughter alone," he said. 
 
 " You needn't speak as if I had tried to run away with 
 her," Rosewarne answered, with more good-nature than was 
 his wont. " Well, go indoors. Ask for her mother." 
 
 As Roscorla passed him there was a look in his eyes which 
 rather startled George Rosewarne. 
 
 " Is it possible," he asked himself, " that this elderly chap 
 is really badly in love with our Wenna ? " 
 
 But another thought struck him. He suddenly jumped up, 
 followed Roscorla into the passage, where the latter was 
 standing, and said to him — 
 
 " Don't you be too harsh with Wenna. She's only a girl ; 
 and they're all alike." This hint, however discourteous in 
 its terms, had some significance as coming from a man who 
 was six inches taller than Mr. Roscorla. 
 
 Mr. Roscorla was shown into an empty room. He marched 
 up and down looking at nothing. He was simply in an ungov- 
 ernable rage. 
 
 Wenna came, and shut the door behind her ; and for a 
 
AN ANGR Y INTER VIE W. 27 1 
 
 second or so he stared at her as if expecting her to burst 
 into passionate professions of remorse. On the contrary, 
 there was something more than calmness in her appearance 
 — there was the desperation of a hunted animal that is driven 
 to turn upon its pursuer in the mere agony of helplessness. 
 
 " Well ! " said he — for, indeed, his passion almost deprived 
 him of his power of speech—" what have you to say ? Per- 
 haps nothing. It is nothing, perhaps, to a woman to be 
 treacherous — to tell smooth lies to your face, and to go plot- 
 ting against you behind your back ? You have nothing to 
 say ? You have nothing to say ? " 
 
 " I have nothing to say," she said, with some little sadness 
 in her voice, " that would excuse me, either to you or myself 
 —yes! I know that. But— but I did not intentionally 
 deceive you — " 
 
 He turned away with an angry gesture. 
 
 " Indeed, indeed I did not," she said piteously. " I had 
 mistaken my own feelings — the temptation was too great. 
 Oh, Mr. Ros'corla ! you need not say harsh things of me, for 
 indeed I think worse of myself than you can do." 
 
 " And I suppose you want forgiveness now ? " he added 
 bitterly. "But I have had enough of that. A woman 
 pledges you her affection, promises to marry you, professes 
 to have no doubts as to the future ; and all the while she is 
 secretly encouraging the attentions of a young jackanapes 
 who is playing with her and making a fool of her — " 
 
 Wenna Rosewarne's cheeks began to burn red : a less 
 angry man would have taken warning. 
 
 « Yes — playing with her and making a fool of her. And 
 for what ? To pass an idle time, and make her the byword 
 of her neighbors." 
 
 " It is not true ! it is not true ! " she said indignantly ; 
 and there was a dangerous light in her eyes. " If he were 
 here, you would not dare to say such things to me — no, you 
 would not dare ! " 
 
 " Perhaps you expect him to call after the pretty exploit of 
 last night ? " asked Roscorla, with a sneer. 
 
 " I do not," she said. " I hope I shall never see him again. 
 It is — it is only misery to every one — " 
 
 And here she broke down, in spite of herself. Her anger 
 gave way to a burst of tears. 
 
 " But what madness is this ? " Roscorla cried. " You wish 
 never to meet him again ; yet you are ready at a moment's 
 notice to run away with him, disgracing yourself and your 
 family. You make promises about never seeing him ; you 
 
272 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 break them the instant you get the opportunity. You profess 
 that your girlish fancy for a barber's block of a fellow has 
 been got over ; and then, as soon as one's back is turned, 
 you reveal your hypocrisy — " 
 
 " Indeed I did not mean to deceive you," she said, implor- 
 ingly. " I did believe that all that was over and gone. I 
 thought it was a foolish fancy — " 
 
 " And now ? " said he, hotly. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Roscorla, you ought to pity me instead of being 
 angry with me. I do love him — I cannot help it. You will 
 not ask me to marry you ! See, I will undertake not to 
 marry him — I will undertake never to see him again — if only 
 you will not ask me to keep my promise to you. How can 
 I ? How can I ? " 
 
 " Pity you ! and these are the confessions you make ! " he 
 exclaimed. " Why, are you not ashamed of yourself to say 
 such things to me ? And so you would undertake not to 
 marry him ? I know what your undertakings are worth ! " 
 
 He had struck her hard — his very hardest, indeed ; but 
 she would not suffer herself to reply, for she believed she de- 
 served far more punishment than he could inflict. All that 
 she could hope for — all that her whole nature cried out for 
 — was that he should not think her treacherous. She had 
 not intentionally deceived him. She had not planned that 
 effort at escape. But when, in a hurried and pathetic fash- 
 ion, she endeavored to explain all this to him, he would not 
 listen. He angrily told her he knew well how women could 
 gloss over such matters. He was no school-boy to be hood- 
 winked. It was not as if she had had no warning ; her con- 
 duct before had been bad enough, when it was possible to 
 overlook it on the score of carelessness, but now it is such 
 as would disgrace any woman who knew her honor was con- 
 cerned in holding to the word she had spoken. 
 
 " And what is he ? " he cried, mad with wrath and jealousy. 
 " An ignorant booby ! a ploughboy ! a lout who has neither 
 the manners of a gentleman nor the education of a day- 
 laborer — " 
 
 "Yes, you may well say such things of him now," said she, 
 with her eyes flashing, "when his back is turned. You 
 would not say so if he were here. But he — yes, if he were 
 here — he would tell you what he thinks of you ; for he is a 
 gentleman and not a coward." 
 
 Angry as he was, Mr. Roscorla was astounded. The fire 
 in her eyes, the flush in her cheeks, the impetuosity of her 
 voice — were these the patient Wenna of old ? But a girl 
 
AN ANGR V IiYTER VIE IV. 273 
 
 betrays herself sometimes, if she happens to have to defend 
 her lover. 
 
 " Oh ! it is shameful of you to say such things ! " she said. 
 " And you know they are not true. There is not any one I 
 have ever seen who is so manly and frank and unselfish as 
 Mr. Trelyon — not any one ; and if I have seen that — if I 
 have admired too much — well, that is a great misfortune, and 
 I have to suffer for it." 
 
 "To suffer? — yes," said he, bitterly. "That is a pretty 
 form of suffering that makes you plan a runaway marriage 
 — a marriage that would bring into your possession the larg- 
 est estates in the north of Cornwall. A very pretty form of 
 suffering! May I ask when the experiment is to be re- 
 peated ? " 
 
 "You may insult me as you like — I am only a woman," 
 she said. 
 
 " Insult you ? " he cried, with fresh vehemence. " Is it 
 insult to speak the truth ? Yesterday forenoon, when I saw 
 you, you were all smiles and smoothness. When I spoke of 
 our marriage, you made no objection. But all the same you 
 knew that at night — " 
 
 " I did not know — I did not know ! " she said. " You 
 ought to believe me when I tell you I knew no more about it 
 than you did. When I met him there at night — it was all so 
 sudden, so unexpected — I scarcely knew what I said ; but 
 now — but now I have time to think — Oh, Mr. Roscorla, 
 don't think that I do not regret it ! I will do anything you 
 ask me — I will promise what you please — indeed, I will un- 
 dertake never to see him again as long as I live in this world 
 — only, you won't ask me to keep my promise to you — " 
 
 He made no reply to this offer ; for a step outside the door 
 caused him to mutter something very like an oath between 
 his teeth. The door was thrown open, Mabyn marched in 
 — a little pale, but very erect. 
 
 " Mabyn, leave us alone for a moment or two," said 
 Wenna, turning away so as to hide the tears on her face. 
 
 " I will not. I want to speak a word or two to Mr. Ros- 
 corla." 
 
 " Mabyn, I want you to go away just now." 
 
 Mabyn went over to her sister, and took her by the 
 hand. 
 
 " Wenna, dear, go away to your own room. You've had 
 quite enough — you are trembling all over. I suppose he'll 
 make me tremble next." 
 
 " Really, I think your interference is rather extraordinary, 
 18 
 
274 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 Miss Mabyn," said Mr. Roscorla, striving to contain his 
 rage. 
 
 "I beg your pardon," said Mabyn meekly. " I only want 
 to say a word or two. Wouldn't it be better here than be- 
 fore the servants ? " 
 
 With that she led Wenna away. In a minute or two she 
 returned. Mr. Roscorla would rather have been shut up in 
 a den with a hungry tigress. 
 
 " I am quite at your service," he said with a bitter irony, 
 " I suppose you have some very important communication to 
 make, considering the way in which you — " 
 
 " Interfered ? Yes, it is time that I interfered," Mabyn 
 said, still quite calm and a trifle pale. " Mr. Roscorla, to be 
 frank, I don't like you, and perhaps I am not quite fair to 
 you. I am only a young girl, and don't know what the world 
 would say about your relations with Wenna. But Wenna is 
 my sister, and I see she is wretched ; and her wretchedness 
 — well, that comes of her engagement to you." 
 
 She was standing before him, with her eyes cast down, 
 apparently determined to be very moderate in her speech. 
 But there was a cruel frankness in her words which hurt Mr. 
 Roscorla a deal more than any tempest of passion into which 
 she might have worked herself. 
 
 " Is that all ? " said he. " You have not startled me with 
 any revelations." 
 
 " I was going to say," continued Mabyn, " that a gentle- 
 man who has really a regard for a girl would not insist on 
 her keeping a promise which only rendered her unhappy. I 
 don't see what you are to gain by it. I suppose you — you 
 expect Wenna to marry you ? Well, I dare say if you called 
 on her to punish herself that way she might do it. But what 
 good would that do you ? Would you like to have a wife 
 who was in love with another man ? " 
 
 " You have become quite logical, Miss Mabyn," said he, 
 " and argument suits you better than getting into a rage. 
 And much of what you say is true. You are a very young 
 girl. You don't know much of what the world would say 
 about anything. But being furnished with these admirable 
 convictions, did it never occur to you that you might not be 
 acting wisely in blundering into an affair of which you know 
 nothing ? " 
 
 The coldly sarcastic fashion in which he spoke threatened 
 to disturb Mabyn's forced equanimity. 
 
 " Know nothing ? " she said. " I know everything about 
 it ; and I can see that my sister is miserable — that is suffi- 
 
AN ANGRY INTERVIEW. 275 
 
 cient reason for my interference. Mr. Roscorla, you won't 
 ask her to marry you ! " 
 
 Had the proud and passionate Mabyn condescended to 
 make an appeal to her ancient enemy ? At least she raised 
 her eyes ; and they seemed to plead for mercy. 
 
 " Come, come ! " he said, roughly, " I've had enough of all 
 this sham beseeching ; I know what it means. Treiyon is a 
 richer man than I am ; she has let her idle girlish notions go 
 dreaming day-dreams ; and so I am expected to stand aside. 
 There has been enough of this nonsense. She is not a child ; 
 she knows what she undertook of her own free will ; and 
 she knows she can get rid of this school-girl fancy directly 
 if she chooses. I for one won't help her to disgrace her- 
 self." 
 
 Mabyn began to breathe a little more quickly. She had 
 tried to be reasonable ; she had even humbled herself and 
 begged from him ; now there was a sensation in her chest as 
 of some rising emotion that demanded expression in quick 
 words." 
 
 " You will try to make her marry you ? " said she, looking 
 him in the face. 
 
 " I will try to do nothing of the sort," said he. " She can 
 do as she likes. But she knows what an honorable woman 
 would do." 
 
 " And I," said Mabyn, her temper at length quite getting 
 the better of her, " I know what an honorable man would do. 
 He would refuse to bind a girl to a promise which she fears. 
 He would consider her happiness to be of more importance 
 than his comfort. Why, I don't believe you care at all 
 whether Wenna marries you or not — it is only you can't bear 
 her being married to the man she really does love — it is only 
 envy, that's what it is. Oh ! I am ashamed to think there is 
 a man alive who would force a girl into becoming his wife on 
 such terms — " 
 
 " There is certainly one considerable objection to my 
 marrying your sister," said he, with great politeness. " The 
 manners of some of her relatives might prove embarrass- 
 ing." 
 
 " Yes, that is true enough," Mabyn said, with hot cheeks. 
 " If ever I became a relative of yours, my manners no doubt 
 would embarrass you very considerably. But I am not a 
 relative of yours as yet, nor is my sister." 
 
 " May I consider that you have said what you had to say ? ! * 
 said he, taking up his hat. 
 
 Proud and angry, and at the same time mortified by her 
 
276 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 defeat, Mabyn found herself speechless. He did not offer to 
 shake hands with her. He bowed to her in passing out. 
 She made the least possible acknowledgment, and then she 
 was alone. Of course, a hearty cry followed. She felt she 
 had done no good. She had determined to be calm ; where- 
 as all the calmness had been on his side, and she had been 
 led into speaking in a manner which a discreet and well-bred 
 young lady would have shrunk from in horror. Mabyn sat 
 still and sobbed, partly in anger and partly in disappoint- 
 ment ; she dared not even go to tell her sister. 
 
 But Mr. Roscorla, as he went over the bridge again, and 
 went up to Basset Cottage, had lost all his assumed coolness 
 of judgment and demeanor. He felt he had been tricked by 
 Wenna and insulted by Mabyn, while his rival had estab- 
 lished a hold which it would be in vain for him to seek to re- 
 move. He was in a passion of rage. He would not go near 
 Wenna again. He would at once set off for London and en- 
 joy himself there while his holiday lasted ; he would not 
 write a word to her ; then, when the time arrived, he would 
 set sail for Jamaica, leaving her to her own conscience. He 
 was suffering a good deal from anger, envy, and jealousy ; 
 but he was consoled by the thought that she was suffering 
 more. And he reflected, with some comfort to himself, that 
 she would scarcely so far demean herself as to marry Harry 
 Trelyon, so long as she knew in her heart what he, Roscorla, 
 could think of her for so doing. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 THE OLD HALF-FORGOTTEN JOKE. 
 
 " Has he gone ? " Wenna asked of her sister, the next day. 
 
 " Yes, he has," Maybn answered, with a proud and revenge- 
 ful face. •* It was quite true what Mrs. Cornish told me — 
 I've no doubt she had her instructions. He has just driven 
 away to Launceston, on his way to London." 
 
 "Without a word!" 
 
 "Would you like to have had another string of argu- 
 ments ? " Mabyn said, impatiently. " Oh, Wenna, you don't 
 know what mischief all this is doing. You are awake all 
 night ; you cry half the day ; what is to be the end of it ? You 
 will work yourself into a fever." 
 
 "Yes, there must be an end of it," Wenna said with deci- 
 
THE OLD HALF-FORGOTTEN JOKE. 277 
 
 sion, " not for myself alone, but for others. That is all the 
 reparation I can make now. No girl in all this country has 
 ever acted so badly as I have done — just look at the misery 
 I have caused — but now — " 
 
 " There is one who is miserable, because he loves you," 
 Mabyn said. 
 
 " Do you think that Mr. Roscorla has no feelings ? You 
 are so unjust to him. Well, it does not matter now : all this 
 must come to an end. Mabyn, I should like to see Mr. Trel- 
 yon, just for one minute." 
 
 " What will you say to him, Wenna ? " her sister said, with 
 a sudden fear. 
 
 " Something that is necessary to say to him, and the sooner 
 it is over the better." 
 
 Mabyn rather dreaded the result of this interview ; and yet, 
 she reflected to herself, here was an opportunity for Harry 
 Trelyon to try to win some promise from her sister. Better, in 
 any case, that they should meet than that Wenna should sim- 
 ply drive him away into banishment without a word of expla- 
 nation. 
 
 The meeting was easily arranged. On the next morning, 
 long before Wenna's daily round of duties had commenced, 
 the two sisters left the inn, and went over the bridge, and 
 out to the bold promontory of black rock at the mouth of the 
 harbor. There was nobody about. This October morning 
 was more like a summer-day ; the air was mild and still ; the 
 blue sky without a cloud ; the shining sea plashed around the 
 rocks with the soft murmuring noise of a July calm. It was 
 on these rocks, long ago, that Wenna Rosewarne had pledged 
 herself to become the wife of Mr. Roscorla ; and at that time 
 life had seemed to her, if not brilliant and beautiful, at least 
 grateful and peaceful. Now all the peace had gone out of it. 
 
 " Oh, my darling ! " Trelyon said, as she advanced alone 
 towards him — for Mabyn had withdrawn. " It is so good of 
 you to come. Wenna, what has frightened you ? " 
 
 He had seized both her hands in his ; but she took them 
 away again. For one brief second her eyes had met his, and 
 there was a sort of wistful and despairing kindliness in them ; 
 then she stood before him, with her face turned away from 
 him, and her voice low and tremulous. 
 
 " I did wise to see you — for once — for the last time," she 
 said. " If you had gone away, you would have carried with 
 you cruel thoughts of me. I wish to ask your forgiveness — " 
 
 " My forgiveness ? " 
 
 "Yes, for all that you may have suffered: and — for all 
 
278 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 that may trouble you in the future — not in the future, but 
 for the little time you will remember what has taken place 
 here. Mr. Trelyon, I — I did not know ! Indeed, it is all a 
 mystery to me now — and a great misery — " 
 
 Her lips began to quiver ; but she controlled herself. 
 
 " And surely it will only be for a short time, if you think of 
 it at all. You are young — you have all the world before you. 
 When you go away among other people and see all the dif- 
 ferent things that interest a young man, you will soon forget 
 whatever has happened here." 
 
 " And you say that to me," he said, " and you said the 
 other night that you loved me. It is nothing, then, for 
 people who love each other to go away, and be consoled, and 
 never see each other again ? " 
 
 Again the lips quivered : he had no idea of the terrible 
 effort that was needed to keep this girl calm. 
 
 " I did say that — " she said. 
 
 " And it was true ? " he broke in. 
 
 " It was true then — it is true now — that is all the misery 
 of it ! " she exclaimed, with tears starting to her eyes. 
 
 " And you talk of our being separated forever ! " he cried. 
 " No ! — not if I can help it ! Mabyn has told me of all your 
 scruples — they are not worth looking at. I tell you you are 
 no more bound to that man than Mabyn is ; and that isn't 
 much. If he is such a mean hound as to insist on your 
 marrying him, then I will appeal to your father and mother, 
 and they must prevent him. Or I will go to him myself, and 
 settle the matter in a shorter way — " 
 
 " You cannot now," she said ; " he has gone away. And 
 what good would that have done ? I would never marry 
 any man unless I could do so with a clear and happy con- 
 science ; and if you — if you and Mabyn — see nothing in my 
 treatment of him that is wrong, then that is very strange ; 
 but I cannot acquit myself. No ; I hope no woman will 
 ever treat you as I have treated him. Look at his position — 
 an elderly man, with few friends — he has not all the best of 
 his life before him as you have — or the good spirits of youth — 
 and after he had gone away to Jamaica, taking my promise 
 with him — oh ! I am ashamed of myself when I think on all 
 that has happened." 
 
 " Then you've no right to be," said he, hotly. " It was 
 the most natural thing in the world, and he ought to have 
 known it, that a young girl who has been argued into 
 engaging herself to an old man should consider her being in 
 love with another man as something of rather more impor- 
 
THE OLD HALF-FORGOTTEN JOKE. 279 
 
 tance — of a good deal more importance, I should say. And 
 his suffering ? He suffers no more than this lump of rock 
 does. That is not his way of thinking — to be bothered 
 about anything. He may be angry, yes ! — and vexed for the 
 moment, as is natural ; but if you think he is going about 
 the world with a load of agony on him, then you're quite 
 mistaken. And if he were, what good could you do by 
 making yourself miserable as well ? Wenna, do be reason- 
 able, now." 
 
 Had not another, on this very spot, prayed her to be rea- 
 sonable ? She had yielded then. Mr. Roscorla's arguments 
 were incontrovertible, and she had shrinkingly accepted the 
 conclusion. Now, young Trelyon's representations and 
 pleadings were far less cogent ; but how strongly her heart 
 went with them ! 
 
 " No ! " she said, as if she were shaking off the influence 
 of the tempter, " I must not listen to you. Yet you don't 
 seem to think that it costs me anything to ask you to bid me 
 good-bye once and for all. It should be less to you than to 
 me. A girl thinks of these things more than a man — she 
 has little else to think of — he goes out into the world and 
 forgets. And you — you will go away, and you will become 
 such a man as all who know you will love to speak of and be 
 proud of ; and some day you will come back, and if you 
 like to come down to the inn, then there will be one or two 
 there glad to see you. Mr. Trelyon, don't ask me to tell you 
 why this should be so. I know it to be right ; my heart tells 
 me. Now I will say good-bye to you." 
 
 " And when I come back to the inn, will you be there ? " 
 said he, becoming rather pale. " No ; you will be married 
 to a man whom you will hate." 
 
 " Indeed no," she said, with her face flushing and her eyes 
 cast down. " How can that be after what has taken place ? 
 He could not ask me. All that I begged of him before he 
 went away was this — that he would not ask me to marry him ; 
 and if only he would do that, I promised never to see you 
 again — after bidding you good-bye as I do now." 
 
 " And is that the arrangement ? " said he, rather roughly. 
 " Are we to play at dog in the manger ? He is not to marry 
 you himself ; but he will not let any other man marry 
 you?" 
 
 " Surely he has some right to consideration," she said. 
 
 " Well, Wenna," said he, " if you've made up your mind, 
 there's no more to be said. I think you are needlessly 
 cruel — " 
 
23o THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " You wont say that, just as we are parting," she said, in a 
 low voice. " Do you think it is nothing to me ? " 
 
 He looked at her for a moment with a great sadness and 
 compunction in his eyes ; then, moved by an uncontrollable 
 impulse, he caught her in his arms, and kissed her on 
 the lips. 
 
 " Now," said he, with his face white as death, " tell me 
 that you will never marry any other man as long as you 
 live ! " 
 
 " Yes, I will say that," she said to him, in a low voice, and 
 with a face as white as his own. 
 
 " Swear it, then ! " 
 
 " I have said that I will never marry any other man than 
 you," she said, " and that is enough — for me. But as for you 
 — why must you go away thinking of such things ? You will 
 see some day what madness it would have been — you will 
 come some day and thank me for having told you so — and 
 then — and then — if anything should be mentioned about 
 what I said just now, you will laugh at the old half-for- 
 gotten joke — " 
 
 Well, there was no laughing at the joke just then ; for the 
 girl burst into tears, and in the midst of that she hastily 
 pressed his hand and hurried away. He watched her go 
 around the rocks to the cleft leading down to the harbor. 
 There she was rejoined by her sister ; and the two of them 
 went slowly along the path of broken slate, with the green 
 hill above, the blue water below, and the fair sunshine all 
 around them. Many a time he recalled afterwards — and 
 always with an increasing weight of his heart — how sombre 
 seemed to him that bright October clay, and the picturesque 
 opening of the coast leading into Eglosilyan. For it was the 
 last glimpse of Wenna Rosewarne that he was to have for 
 many a day ; and a sadder picture was never treasured up in 
 a man's memory. 
 
 " Oh, Wenna, what have you said to him that you tremble 
 so ? " Mabyn asked. 
 
 " I have bid him good-bye — that is all." 
 
 " Not for always ? " 
 
 " Yes, for always." 
 
 " And he is going away again, then ? " 
 
 "Yes, as a young man should. Why should he stop here to 
 make himself wretched over impossible fancies ? He will go 
 out into the world ; and he has splendid health and spirits ; 
 and he will forget all this." 
 
 " And you — you are anxious to forget it all too ? " 
 
THE OLD HALF-FORGOTTEN JOKE. 281 
 
 " Would it not be better ? What good can come of dream- 
 ing ? Well, I've plenty of work to do ; that is well." 
 
 Mabyn was very much inclined to cry : all her beautiful 
 visions of the future happiness of her sister had been rudely 
 dispelled. All her schemes and machinations had gone for 
 nothing. There only remained to her, in the way of consola- 
 tion, the fact that Wenna still wore the sapphire ring that 
 Harry Trelyon had sent her. 
 
 " And what will his mother think of you ? " said Mabyn, as 
 a last argument, " when she finds you have sent him away 
 altogether — to go into the army, and go abroad, and per- 
 haps die of yellow-fever, or be shot by the Sepoys and the 
 Caffres ? " 
 
 " She would have hated me if I had married him," said 
 Wenna, simply. 
 
 " Oh, Wenna, how dare you say such a thing ! " Mabyn 
 cried. " What do you mean by it ? " 
 
 "Would a lady in her position like her only son to marry 
 the daughter of an innkeeper ? " Wenna asked, rather indiffer- 
 ently : indeed, her thoughts were elsewhere. 
 
 " I tell you, there's no one in the world she loves like you 
 — I can see it every time she comes down for you — and she 
 believes, and J believe too, that you have changed Mr. Trel- 
 yon's way of talking and his manner of treating people in 
 such a fashion as no one would have considered possible. 
 Do you think she hasn't eyes ? He is scarcely ever imperti- 
 nent now — when he is it is always in good-nature, and never 
 in sulkiness. Look at his kindness to Mr. Trewhella's grand- 
 daughter ; and Mr. Trewhella a clergyman too. Did he ever 
 use to take his mother out for a drive ? No, never ! And of 
 course she knows whom it's all owing to ; and if you would 
 marry Mr. Trelyon, Wenna, I believe she would worship you 
 and think nothing good enough for you — " 
 
 " Mabyn, I am going to ask something of you." 
 
 " Oh yes, I know what it is," her sister said. " I am not 
 to speak any more about your marriage with Mr. Trelyon. 
 But I won't give you any such promise, Wenna. I don't 
 consider that old man has any hold on you." 
 
 Wenna said nothing, for at this moment they entered the 
 house. Mabyn went up with her sister to her room ; then 
 she stood undecided for a moment ; finally she said — 
 
 " Wenna, if I've vexed you, I'm very sorry. I won't speak 
 of Mr. Trelyon if you don't wish it. But indeed you don't 
 know how many people are anxious that you should be 
 
284 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 self, who was writing out a very elaborate menu, considering 
 that he was ordering dinner for himself only. He and Mr. 
 Roscorla agreed to dine together. 
 
 Now for some years back Mr. Roscorla, in visiting his club, 
 had found himself in a very isolated and uncomfortable posi- 
 tion. Long ago he had belonged to the younger set — to those 
 reckless young fellows who were not afraid to eat a hasty din- 
 ner, and then rush off to take a mother and a couple of 
 daughters to the theatre, returning at midnight to some an- 
 chovy toast and a glass of Burgundy, followed by a couple of 
 hours of brandy-and-soda, cigars, and billiards. But he had 
 drifted away from that set; indeed, they had disappeared, and 
 he knew none of their successors. On the other hand, he 
 had never got into the ways of the old-fogy set. Those stout 
 eld gentlemen, who carefully drank nothing but claret-and- 
 seltzer, who took a quarter of an hour to write out their din- 
 ner bill, who spent the evening in playing whist, kept very 
 much to themselves. It was into this set that the old General 
 now introduced him. Mr. Roscorla had quite the air of a 
 bashful young man when he made one of a party of those 
 ancients, who dined at the same table each evening. He was 
 almost ashamed to order a pint of champagne for himself — 
 it savored so much of youth. He was silent in the presence 
 of his seniors ; and indeed they were garrulous enough to 
 cover his silence. Their talk was mostly of politics — not the 
 politics of the country, but the. politics of office — of under- 
 secretaries and candidates for place. They seemed to look 
 on the Government of the country as a sort of mechanical 
 clock, which from time to time sent out a few small figures, 
 and from time to time took them in again ; and they showed 
 an astonishing acquaintance with the internal and intricate 
 mechanism which produced these changes. Perhaps it was 
 because they were so busy in watching for changes on the 
 face of the clock that they seemed to forget the swinging on- 
 ward of the great world outside, and the solemn march of the 
 stars. 
 
 Most of those old gentlemen had lived their life — had done 
 their share of heavy dining and reckless drinking many years 
 ago — and thus it was they had come to drink seltzer-and- 
 claret. But it appeared that it was their custom, after din- 
 ner, to have the table cover removed, and some port-wine 
 placed on the mahogany. Mr. Roscorla, who had felt as yet 
 no ugly sensations about his finger joints, regarded this cere- 
 mony with equanimity ; but it was made the subject of some 
 ominous joking on the part of his companions. Then joking 
 
■XE W A MB I TIONS. 2S3 
 
 led to joking. There were no more politics. Some very 
 funny stories were told. Occasionally one or two names were 
 introduced, as of persons well known in London society, 
 though not of it ; and Mr. Roscorla was surprised that he 
 had never heard these names before — you see how one be- 
 comes ignorant of the world if one buries one's self down in 
 Cornwall, Mr, Roscorla began to take quite an interest in 
 these celebrated people, in the price of their ponies, and the 
 diamonds they were understood to have worn at a certain 
 very singular ball He was pleased to hear, too, of the man- 
 ner in which the aristocracy of England were resuming their 
 ancient patronage of the arts ; for he was given to under- 
 stand that a young earl or baron could scarcely be considered 
 a man of fashion unless he owned a theatre. 
 
 On their way up to the card-room, Mr. Roscorla and one 
 of his venerable companions went into the hall to get their 
 cigar-case from their top-coat pocket This elderly gentle- 
 man had been the governor of an island in the Pacific. He 
 had now been resident for many years in England. He was 
 on the directorate of one or two well-known commercial com- 
 panies ; he had spoken at several meetings on the danger of 
 dissociating religion from education in the training of the 
 young ; in short, he was a tower of respectability. On the 
 present occasion he had to pull out a muffler to get at his 
 cigar-case ; and with the muffler came a small parcel tied up 
 in tissue-paper. 
 
 " Neat, aren't they ? " said he, with a senile grin, showing 
 Mr. Roscorla the tips of a pair of pink satin slippers. 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Roscorla ; " I suppose they're for your 
 daughter ? " 
 
 They went up to the card-room. 
 
 " I expect you'll teach us a lesson, Roscorla," said the old 
 General. " Gad, some of you West Indian fellows know the 
 difference between a ten and a ace." 
 
 "Last time I played cards," Roscorla said, modestly, "I 
 was lucky enough to win forty-eight pounds." 
 
 " Whew ! We can't afford that sort of thing on this side of 
 the water— not if you happen to serve Her Majesty, anyway. 
 Come, let's cut for partners." 
 
 There was but little talking, of course, during the card 
 playing ; it the end of it Mr. Roscorla found he had only 
 lost half a sovereign. Then everybody adjourned to a snug 
 little smoking-room, to which only members were admitted. 
 This, to the neophyte, was the pleasantest part of the even- 
 ing. He seemed to hear of everything that was going on in 
 
284 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 self, who was writing out a very elaborate menu, considering 
 that he was ordering dinner for himself only. He and Mr. 
 Roscorla agreed to dine together. 
 
 Now for some years back Mr. Roscorla, in visiting his club, 
 had found himself in a very isolated and uncomfortable posi- 
 tion. Long ago he had belonged to the younger set — to those 
 reckless young fellows who were not afraid to eat a hasty din- 
 ner, and then rush off to take a mother and a couple of 
 daughters to the theatre, returning at midnight to some an- 
 chovy toast and a glass of Burgundy, followed by a couple of 
 hours of brandy-and-soda, cigars, and billiards. But he had 
 drifted away from that set; indeed, they had disappeared, and 
 he knew none of their successors. On the other hand, he 
 had never got into the ways of the "old-fogy set. Those stout 
 eld gentlemen, who carefully drank nothing but ciaret-and- 
 seltzer, who took a quarter of an hour to write out their din- 
 ner bill, who spent the evening in playing whist, kept very 
 much to themselves. It was into this set that the old General 
 now introduced him. Mr. Roscorla had quite the air of a 
 bashful young man when he made one of a party of those 
 ancients, who dined at the same table each evening. He was 
 almost ashamed to order a pint of champagne for himself — 
 it savored so much of youth. He was silent in the presence 
 of his seniors ; and indeed they were garrulous enough to 
 cover his silence. Their talk was mostly of politics — not the 
 politics of the country, but the. politics of office — of under- 
 secretaries and candidates for place. They seemed to look 
 on the Government of the country as a sort of mechanical 
 clock, which from time to time sent out a few small figures, 
 and from time to time took them in again ; and they showed 
 an astonishing acquaintance with the internal and intricate 
 mechanism which produced these changes. Perhaps it was 
 because they were so busy in watching for changes on the 
 face of the clock that they seemed to forget the swinging on- 
 ward of the great world outside, and the solemn march of the 
 stars. 
 
 Most of those old gentlemen had lived their life — had done 
 theij- share of heavy dining and reckless drinking many years 
 ago — and thus it was they had come to drink seltzer-and- 
 claret. But it appeared that it was their custom, after din- 
 ner, to have the table cover removed, and some port-wine 
 placed on the mahogany. Mr. Roscorla, who had felt as yet 
 no ugly sensations about his finger joints, regarded this cere- 
 mony with equanimity ; but it was made the subject of some 
 ominous joking on the part of his companions. Then joking 
 
,.\ r E J V A MB I TIOA r S. 283 
 
 led to joking. There were no more politics. Some very 
 funny stories were told. Occasionally one or two names were 
 introduced, as of persons well known in London society, 
 though not of it ; and Mr. Roscorla was surprised that he 
 had never heard these names before — you see how one be- 
 comes ignorant of the world if one buries one's self down in 
 Cornwall. Mr. Roscorla began to take quite an interest in 
 these celebrated people, in the price of their ponies, and the 
 diamonds they were understood to have worn at a certain 
 very singular ball He was pleased to hear, too, of the man- 
 ner in which the aristocracy of England were resuming their 
 ancient patronage of the arts ; for he was given to under- 
 stand that a young earl or baron could scarcely be considered 
 a man of fashion unless he owned a theatre. 
 
 On their way up to the card-room, Mr. Roscorla and one 
 of his venerable companions went into the hall to get their 
 cigar-case from their top-coat pocket This elderly gentle- 
 man had been the governor of an island in the Pacific. He 
 had now been resident for many years in England. He was 
 on the directorate of one or two well-known commercial com- 
 panies ; he had spoken at several meetings on the danger of 
 dissociating religion from education in the training of the 
 young ; in short, he was a tower of respectability. On the 
 present occasion he had to pull out a muffler to get at his 
 cigar-case ; and with the muffler came a small parcel tied up 
 in tissue-paper. 
 
 " Neat, aren't they ? " said he, with a senile grin, showing 
 Mr. Roscorla the tips of a pair of pink satin slippers. 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Roscorla ; " I suppose they're for your 
 daughter ? " 
 
 They went up to the card-room. 
 
 " I expect you'll teach us a lesson, Roscorla," said the old 
 General. " Gad, some of you West Indian fellows know the 
 difference between a ten and a ace." 
 
 " Last time I played cards," Roscorla said, modestly, " I 
 was lucky enough to win forty-eight pounds." 
 
 " Whew ! We can't afford that sort of thing on this side of 
 the water — not if you happen to serve Her Majesty, anyway. 
 Come, let's cut for partners." 
 
 There was but little talking, of course, during the card 
 playing ; ut the end of it Mr. Roscorla found he had only 
 lost half a sovereign. Then everybody adjourned to a snug 
 little smoking-room, to which only members were admitted. 
 This, to the neophyte, was the pleasantest part of the even- 
 ing. He seemed to hear of everything that was going on in 
 
286 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 London — and a good deal more besides. He was behind the 
 scenes of all the commercial, social, political performances 
 which were causing the vulgar crowd to gape. He discovered 
 the true history of the hostility shown by So-and-so to the 
 Premier ; he was told the little scandal which caused Her 
 Majesty to refuse to knight a certain gentleman who had 
 claims on the Government ; he heard what the Duke "really 
 did offer to the gamekeeper whose eye he had shot out, and 
 the language used by the keeper on the occasion ; and he 
 received such information about the financial affairs of many 
 a company as made him wonder whether the final collapse of 
 the commercial world were really at hand. He forgot that 
 he had heard quite similar stories twenty years before. Then 
 they had been told by ingenuous youths full of the importance 
 of the information they had just acquired ; now they were 
 told by garrulous old gentlemen, with a cynical laugh which 
 was more amusing than the hot-headed asseveration of the 
 juniors. It was, on the whole, a delightful evening — this 
 first evening of his return to club-life ; and then it was so 
 convenient to go up-stairs to bed instead of having to walk 
 from the inn of Eglosilyan to Basset Cottage. 
 
 Just before leaving, the old General took Roscorla aside, 
 and said to him — 
 
 " Monstrous amusing fellows, eh ? " 
 
 " Very." 
 
 " Just a word. Don't you let old Lewis lug you into any 
 of his companies — you understand ? " 
 
 " There's not much fear of that ! " Mr. Roscorla said, with 
 a laugh. " I haven't a brass farthing to invest." 
 
 " All you West Indians say that ; however, so much the 
 better. And there's old Strafford, too ; he's got some infer- 
 nal India-rubber patent. Gad, sir, he knows no more about 
 these commercial fellows than the man in the moon ; and 
 they'll ruin him — mark my words, they'll ruin him." 
 
 Roscorla was quite pleased to be advised. It made him 
 feel young and ingenuous. After all, the disparity in years 
 between him and his late companions was most obvious. 
 
 " And when are you coming to dine with us, eh ? " the 
 General said, lighting a last cigar and getting his hat. To- 
 morrow night ? — quiet family party, you know ; her lady- 
 ship'll be awfully glad to see you. Is it a bargain ? All right 
 — seven ; we're early folks. I say — you needn't mention I 
 dined here to-night ; to tell you the truth, I'm supposed to 
 be looking after a company too, and precious busy about it 
 Mum's the word ; d'ye see ? " 
 
NEW AMBITIONS. 287 
 
 Really this plunge into a new sort of life was quite delight- 
 ful. When he went down to breakfast next morning he was 
 charmed with the order and cleanliness of everything around 
 him ; the sunlight was shining in at the large windows ; there 
 was a bright fire, in front of which he stood and read the 
 paper until his cutlets came. There was no croaking of an old 
 Cornish housekeeper over her bills ; no necessity for seeing 
 if the grocer had been correct in his addition. Then there 
 was a slight difference between the cooking here and that 
 which prevailed in Basset Cottage. 
 
 In a comfortable frame of mind he leisurely walked down 
 to Cannon Street, and announced himself to his partners. 
 He sat for an hour or so in a snug little parlor, talking over 
 their joint venture, and describing all that had been done. 
 There was, indeed, every ground for hope ; and he was 
 pleased to hear them say that they were especially obliged to 
 him for having gone out to verify the reports that had been 
 sent home, and for his personal supervision while there. They 
 hoped he would draw on the joint association for a certain 
 sum which should represent the value of that supervision. 
 
 Now, if Mr. Roscorla had really been possessed at this 
 moment of the wealth to which he looked forward, he would 
 not have taken so much interest in it. He would have said 
 to himself — 
 
 " What is the life I am to lead, now that I have this money ? 
 Having luncheon at the club ; walking in the Park in the after- 
 noon ; dining with a friend in the evening, and playing whist 
 or billiards, with the cheerless return to a bachelor's chambers 
 at night ? Is that all that my money can give me ? " 
 
 But he had not the money. He looked forward to it ; and 
 it seemed to him that it contained all the possibilities of hap- 
 piness. Then he would be free. No more stationary drag- 
 ging out of existence in that Cornish cottage. He would 
 move about ; he would enjoy life. He was still younger than 
 those jovial old fellows who seemed to be happy enough. 
 When he thought of Wenna Rosewarne, it was with the notion 
 that marriage very considerably hampers a man's freedom of 
 action. 
 
 If a man were married, could he have a choice of thirty 
 dishes for luncheon ? Could he have the first edition of the 
 evening papers brought him almost damp from the press? 
 Then how pleasant it was to be able to smoke a cigar and to 
 write one or two letters at the same time — in a large and well- 
 ventilated room. Mr. Roscorla did not fail to draw on his 
 partners for the sum they had mentioned ; he was not short 
 
288 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 of money, but he might as well ga her the first few drops of 
 the coming shower. 
 
 He did not go up to walk in the Park, for he knew there 
 would be almost nobody there at that time of the year ; but 
 he walked up to Bond Street and bought a pair of dress-boots, 
 after which he returned to the club, and played billiards with 
 one of his companions of the previous evening until it was 
 time to dress for dinner. 
 
 The party at the General's was a sufficiently small one ; for 
 you cannot ask any one to dinner at a few hours' notice, ex- 
 cept it be a merry and marriageable widow vvho has been told 
 that she will meet an elderly and marriageable bachelor. 
 This complaisant lady was present ; and Mr. Roscorla found 
 himself on his entrance being introduced to a good-looking, 
 buxom dame, who had a healthy, merry, roseate face, very 
 black eyes and hair, and a somewhat gorgeous dress. She 
 was a trifle demure at first, but her amiable shyness soon wore 
 off, and she was most kind to Mr. Roscorla. He, of course, 
 had to take in Lady Weekes ; but Mrs. Seton-Willoughby sat 
 opposite him, and, while keeping the whole table amused with 
 an account of her adventures in Galway, appeared to address 
 the narrative principally to the stranger. 
 
 " Oh, my dear Lady Weekes," she said, " I was so glad to 
 get back to Brighton ! I thought I should have forgotten my 
 own language, and taken to war-paint and feathers, if I had 
 remained much longer. And Brighton is so delightful just 
 now — just comfortably filled, without the November crush 
 having set in. Now, couldn't you persuade the General to 
 take you down for a few days ? I am going down on Friday ; 
 and you know how dreadful it is for a poor lone woman to be 
 in a hotel, especially with a maid who spends all her time in 
 flirting with the first-floor waiters. Now, won't you, dear ? 
 
 I assure you the Hotel is most charming — such freedom. 
 
 and the pleasant parties they make up in the drawing-room ; 
 I believe they have a ball two or three nights a week just 
 now — " 
 
 " I should have thought you would have found the rather 
 
 quieter," said Mr. Roscorla, naming a good old-fashioned 
 house. 
 
 " Rather quieter ? " said the widow, raising her eyebrows. 
 "Yes, a good deal quieter! About as quiet as a Dissenting 
 chapel. No, no ; if one means to have a little pleasure, why 
 go to such a place as that ? Now, will you come and prove 
 tL; truth of what I have told you ? " 
 
NEW AMBITIONS. 289 
 
 Mr. Roscorla looked alarmed ; and even the solemn Lady 
 Weekes had to conceal a smile. 
 
 " Of course I mean you to persuade our friends here to 
 come too," the widow explained. " What a delightful frolic 
 it would be — for a few days, you know, to break away from 
 London ! Now, my dear, what do you say ? " 
 
 She turned to her hostess. That small and sombre person 
 referred her to the General. The General, on being appealed 
 to, said he thought it would be a capital joke ; and would 
 Mr. Roscorla go with them ? Mr. Roscorla, not seeing why 
 he should not have a little frolic of this sort just like any one 
 else, said he would. So they agreed to meet at Victoria Sta- 
 tion on the following Friday. 
 
 " Struck, eh ? " said the old General, when the two gentle- 
 men were alone after dinner. " Has she wounded you, eh ? 
 Gad, sir, that woman has ^"8000 a year in the India Four per 
 Cents. Would you believe it ? Would you believe that any 
 man could have been such a fool as to put such a fortune in- 
 to India Four per Cents ? — with mortgages going a-begging 
 at five, and the marine insurance companies paying thirteen ! 
 Well, my boy, what do you think of her ? She was most un- 
 commonly attentive to you, that I'll swear — don't deny it — 
 now, don't deny it. Bless my soul, you marrying men are so 
 sly there's no getting at you. Well, what was I saying ? Yes, 
 yes — will she do ? £ 8000 a year, as I'm a living sinner." 
 
 Mr. Roscorla was intensely flattered to have it even sup- 
 posed that the refusal of such a fortune was within his power. 
 
 *' Well," said he, modestly and yet critically, " she's not 
 quite my style. I'm rather afraid of three-deckers. But she 
 seems a very good-natured sort of woman." 
 
 " Good-natured ! Is that all you say ? I can tell you, in 
 my time men were nothing so particular when there was 
 ;£8ooo a year going a-begging." 
 
 " Well, well," said Mr. Roscorla, with a smile. " It is a 
 very good joke. When she marries, she'll marry a younger 
 man than I am — " 
 
 " Don't you be mistaken — don't you be mistaken ! " the 
 old General cried. " You've made an impression — I'll swear 
 you have ; and I told her ladyship you would." 
 
 " And what did Lady Weekes say ? " 
 
 " Gad, sir, she said it would be a deuced good thing for 
 both of you." 
 
 " She is very kind," said Mr. Roscorla, pleased at the 
 notion of having such a prize within reach, and yet not 
 J 9 
 
290 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 pleased that Lady Weekes should have fancied this the sort 
 of woman he would care to marry. 
 
 They went to Brighton, and a very pleasant time of it 
 they had at the big, noisy hotel. The weather was delight- 
 ful. Mrs. Seton-Willoughby was excessively fond of riding ; 
 forenoon and afternoon they had their excursions, with the 
 pleasant little dinner of the evening to follow. Was not this a 
 charmed land into which the former hermit of Basset Cottage 
 was straying ? Of course, he never dreamed for a moment 
 of marrying this widow; that was out of the question. She 
 was just a little too demonstrative — very clever and amusing 
 for half an hour or so, but too gigantic a blessing to be taken 
 through life. It was the mere possibility of marrying her, 
 however, which attracted Mr. Roscorla. He honestly believ- 
 ed, judging by her kindness to him, that, if he seriously tried, 
 he could get her to marry him ; in other words, that he might 
 become possessed of ^8000 a year. This money, so to speak, 
 was within his reach ; and it was only now that he was begin- 
 ning to see that money could purchase many pleasures even 
 for the middle-aged. He made a great mistake in imagining, 
 down in Cornwall, that he had lived his life; and that he had 
 but to look forward to mild enjoyments, a peaceful wander- 
 ing onwards to the grave, and the continual study of econ- 
 omy in domestic affairs. He was only now beginning to 
 live. 
 
 " And when are you coming back ? " said the widow to 
 him, one evening, when they were all talking of his leaving 
 England. 
 
 "That I don't know," he said. 
 
 " Of course," she said, " you don't mean to remain in the 
 West Indies. I suppose lots of people have to go there for 
 some object or other, but they always come back when it is 
 attained." 
 
 " They come back to attain some other object here," said 
 Mr. Roscorla. 
 
 "Then we'll soon find you that," the General burst in. 
 " No man lives out of England who can help it. Don't you 
 find in this country enough to satisfy you ? " 
 
 " Indeed I do," Mr. Roscorla said, " especially within the 
 last few days. I have enjoyed myself enormously. I shall 
 always have a friendly recollection of Brighton." 
 
 " Are you going down to Cornwall before you leave ? " Sir 
 Percy asked. 
 
 " No," said he, slowly. 
 
 " That isn't quite so cheerful as Brighton, eh ? " 
 
AN OLD LADY'S APOLOGY. 291 
 
 " Not quite." 
 
 He kept his word. He did not go back to Cornwall be- 
 fore leaving England, nor did he send a single line or mes- 
 sage to any one there. It was with something of a proud 
 indifference that he set sail, and also with some notion that 
 he was being amply revenged For the rest, he hated 
 " scenes ; " and he had encountered quite enough of these 
 during his brief visit to Eglosilyan. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 AN OLD LADY'S APOLOGY, 
 
 When Wenna heard that Mr. Roscorla had left England 
 without even bidding her good-bye by letter, she accepted 
 the rebuke with submission, and kept her own counsel She 
 went about her daily duties with an unceasing industry; Mrs. 
 Trelyon was astonished to see how she seemed to find time 
 for everything. The winter was coming on, and the Sewing 
 Club was in full activity ; but even apart from the affairs of 
 that enterprise, Wenna Rosewarne seemed to be everywhere 
 throughout the village, to know everything, to be doing every- 
 thing that prudent help and friendly counsel could do. Mrs. 
 Trelyon grew to love the girl— in her vague, wondering, sim- 
 ple fashion. 
 
 So the days and the weeks and the months went by ; and 
 the course of life ran smoothly and quietly in the remote 
 Cornish village. Apparently there was nothing to indicate 
 the presence of bitter regrets, of crushed hopes, of patient 
 despair: only Mabyn used to watch her sister at times, and she 
 fancied that Wenna' s face was growing thinner. 
 
 The Christmas festivities came on, and Mrs. Trelyon was 
 pleased to lend her protegee a helping hand in decorating the 
 church. One evening she said — 
 
 " My dear Miss Wenna, I am going to ask you an imperti- 
 nent question. Could your family spare you on Christmas 
 evening ? Harry is coming down from London ; I am sure 
 he would be so pleased to see you." 
 
 " Oh, thank you, Mrs. Trelyon," Wenna said, with" just a 
 little nervousness. " You are very kind, but indeed I must 
 be at home on Christmas evening." 
 
 " Perhaps some other evening while he is here you will be 
 able to come up," said Mrs. Trelyon, in her gentle way. 
 
292 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 " You know you ought to come and see how your pupil is 
 getting on. He writes me such nice letters now ; and I fancy 
 he is working very hard at his studies, though he says noth- 
 ing about it." 
 
 " I am very glad to hear it," Wenna said, in a low voice. 
 
 Trelyon did come to the Hall for a few days, but he kept 
 away from the village, and was seen by no one of the Rose- 
 warnes. But on the Christmas morning Mabyn Rosewarne, 
 being early about, was told that Mrs. Trelyon's groom wished 
 to see her ; and going down, she found the man, with a basket 
 before him. 
 
 " Please, miss, Mr. Trelyon r s compliments, and would you 
 take the flowers out of the cotton wool, and give them to Miss 
 Rosewarne ! " 
 
 " Oh, won't I ! " said Mabyn, opening the basket at once, 
 and carefully getting out a bouquet of camellias, snowdrops, 
 and sweet violets. " Just you wait a minute, Jakes, for I've 
 got a Christmas-box: for you." 
 
 Mabyn went up-stairs as rapidly as was consistent with the 
 safety of the flowers,, and burst into her sister's room. 
 
 "Oh Wenna, look at this I Doyou know who sent them? 
 Did you ever see anything so lovely ? " 
 
 For a second the girl seemed almost frightened ;, then her 
 eyes grew troubled and moist, and she turned her head away. 
 Mabyn put them gently down, and Left the room without a 
 word. 
 
 The Christmas and the new year passed without any mes- 
 sage from Mr. Roscorla ; and Mabyn, though she rebelled 
 against the bondage in which her sister was placed,, was glad 
 that she. was not disturbed by angry letters. About the mid- 
 dle of January, however, a brief note arrived from Jamaica. 
 
 " I cannot let such a time go by," Mr. Roscorla wrote, 
 " whatever may be our relations, without sending you a friend- 
 ly word. I do hope the new year will bring you health and 
 happiness, and that we shall in time forget the angry manner 
 in which we parted, and all the circumstances leading to it." 
 
 She wrote as brief a note in reply, at the end of which she 
 hoped he would forgive her for any pain he had suffered 
 through her. Mabyn was rejoiced to find that the correspond- 
 ence — whether it was or was not meant on his part to be an 
 offer of reconciliation — stopped there. 
 
 And again the slow days went by, until the world began to 
 stir with the new spring-time — the saddest time of the year 
 to those who live much in the past. Wenna was out and about 
 a great deal, being continually busy ; but she no longer took 
 
AN OLD LADY'S APOLOGY. 293 
 
 those long walks by herself in which she used to chat to the 
 butterflies and the young lambs and the sea-gulls. The fresh 
 western breezes no longer caused her spirits to flow over in 
 careless gayety ; she saw the new flowers springing out of the 
 earth, but it was of another spring-time she was thinking. 
 
 One day, later on in the year, Mrs. Trelyon sent down the 
 wagonette for her, with the request that she would come up 
 to the Hall for a few minutes. Wenna obeyed the summons, 
 imagining that some business connected with the Sewing Club 
 claimed her attention. When she arrived, she found Mrs. 
 Trelyon unable to express the gladness and gratitude that 
 filled her heart ; for before her were certain London news- 
 papers, and behold! Harry Trelyon's name was recorded 
 there in certain lists as having scored a sufficient number of 
 marks in the examination to entitle him to a first commission. 
 It was no concern of hers that his name was pretty far down 
 in the list — enough that he had succeeded somehow. And 
 who was the worker of this miracle — who but the shy, sad-eyed 
 girl standing beside her, whose face wore now a happier ex- 
 pression than it had worn for many a day ? 
 
 " And this is what he says," the proud mother continued, 
 showing Wenna a letter. " c It isn't much to boast of, for in- 
 deed you'll see by the numbers that it was rather a narrow 
 squeak ; anyhow, I pulled through. My old tutor is rather a 
 speculative fellow, and he offered to bet me fifty pounds his 
 coaching would carry me through, which I took : so I shall 
 have to pay him that besides his fees. I must say he has 
 earned both ; I don't think a more ignorant person than my- 
 self ever went to a man to get crammed. I send you two 
 newspapers ; you might drop one at the inn for Miss Rose- 
 warne any time you are passing; or if you could see her and 
 tell her, perhaps that would be better.' " 
 
 Wenna was about as pleased and proud as Mrs. Trelyon 
 was. 
 
 " I knew he could do it, if he tried," she said, quietly. 
 
 " And then," the mother went on to say, " when he has once 
 joined, there will be no money wanting to help him to his pro- 
 motion ; and when he comes back to settle down here, he will 
 have some recognized rank and profession such as a man 
 ought to have. Not that he will remain in the army-— for, of 
 course, I should not like to part with him ; and he might be 
 sent to Africa, or Canada, or the West Indies. You know," 
 she added with a smile, " that it is not pleasant to have any 
 one you care for in the West Indies." 
 
 When Wenna got home again, she told Mabyn. Strange 
 
294 THREE FEA THERS. 
 
 to say, Mabyn did not clap her hands for joy, as might have 
 been expected. 
 
 "Wenna," said she, "what made him go into the army? 
 Was it to show you that he could pass an examination ? or 
 was it because he means to leave England ? " 
 
 "I don't know," said Wenna, looking down. "I hope he 
 does not mean to leave England." That was all she said. 
 
 Harry Trelyon was, however, about to leave England, 
 though not because he had been gazetted to a colonial regi- 
 ment. He came down to inform his mother that, on the fif- 
 teenth of the month, he would sail for Jamaica ; and then and 
 there, for the first time, he told her the whole story of his 
 love for W T enna Rosewarne, of his determination to free her 
 somehow from the bonds that bound her, and, failing that, of 
 the revenge he meant to take. Mrs. Trelyon was amazed, 
 angry, and beseeching in turns. 
 
 At one moment she protested that it was madness of her 
 son to think of marrying Wenna Rosewarne ; at another, she 
 would admit all that he said in praise of her, and would only 
 implore him not to leave England ; or again she would hint 
 that she would almost herself go down to Wenna and beg her 
 to marry him if only he gave up this wild intention of his. 
 He had never seen his mother so agitated ; but he reasoned 
 gently with her, and remained firm to his purpose. Was 
 there half as much danger in taking a fortnight's trip in a 
 mail-steamer as in going from Southampton to Malta in a 
 yacht, which he had twice done with her consent? 
 
 "Why, if I had been ordered to join a regiment in China, 
 you might have some reason to complain," he said. " And 
 I shall be as anxious as you, mother, to get back again, for I 
 mean to get up my drill thoroughly as soon as I am attached. 
 I have plenty of work before me." 
 
 " You're not looking well, Harry," said the mother. 
 
 " Of course not," said he, cheerfully. " You don't catch 
 one of those geese at Strasburg looking specially lively when 
 they tie it by the leg and cram it — and that's what I've been 
 going through of late. But what better cure can there be 
 than a sea-voyage ? " 
 
 And so it came about that, on a pleasant evening in Octo- 
 ber, Mr. Roscorla received a visit. He saw the young man 
 come riding up the acacia path, and he instantaneously 
 guessed his mission. His own resolve was taken as quickly. 
 
 " Bless my soul, is it you, Trelyon ? " he cried, with appar- 
 ent delight. " You mayn't believe it, but I am really glad to 
 
4N OLD LADY'S APOLOGY. 
 
 295 
 
 see you. I have been going to write to you for many a day 
 back. I'll send somebody for your horse ; come into the 
 house." 
 
 The young man, having fastened up the bridle, followed his 
 host. There was a calm and business-like rather than a hol- 
 iday look on his face. 
 
 " And what were you going to write to me about ? " he asked. 
 
 " Oh, you know," said Roscorla, good-naturedly. " You 
 see, a man takes very different views of life when he knocks 
 about a bit. For my part, I am more interested in my bus- 
 iness now than in anything else of a more tender character ; 
 and I may say that I hope to pay you back a part of the 
 money you lent me as soon as our accounts for this year are 
 made up. Well, about that other point — I don't see how I 
 could well return to England, to live permanently there, for 
 a year or two at the soonest ; and — and, in fact — I have often 
 wondered, now, whether it wouldn't be better if I asked Miss 
 Rosewarne to consider herself finally free from that — from 
 that engagement — " 
 
 " Yes, I think it would be a great deal better," said Trei- 
 yon, coldly. " And perhaps you would kindly put your re- 
 solve into writing. I shall take it back to Miss Rosewarne. 
 Will you kindly do so now ? " 
 
 " Why ! " said Roscorla, rather sharply, " you don't take 
 my proposal in a very friendly way. I imagine I am doing 
 you a good turn too. It is not every man would do so in my 
 position; for, after all, she treated me very badly. However, 
 we needn't go into that. I will write her a letter if you like 
 — now, indeed, if you like ; and won't you stop a day or two 
 here before going back to Kingston ? " 
 
 Mr. Trelyon intimated that he would like to have the letter 
 at once, and that he would consider the invitation afterwards. 
 Roscorla, with a good-humored shrug, sat down and wrote it, 
 and then handed it to Trelyon, open. As he did so, he no- 
 ticed that the young man was coolly abstracting the cartridge 
 from a small breech-loading pistol he held in his hand. He 
 put the cartridge in his waistcoat-pocket and the pistol in his 
 coat-pocket. 
 
 " Did you think we were savages out here, that you came 
 armed ? " said Roscorla, rather pale, but smiling. 
 
 " I didn't know," said Trelyon. 
 
 One morning there was a marriage in Eglosilyan, up there 
 at the small church on the bleak downs, overlooking the wide 
 sea. The spring-time had come round again ; there was a 
 
296 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 May-like mildness in the air ; the skies overhead were as 
 blue as the great plain of the sea; and all the beautiful green 
 world was throbbing with the upspringing life of the flowers. 
 It was just like any other wedding, but for one little incident. 
 When the bride came out into the bewildering glare of the 
 sun, she vaguely knew that the path through the churchyard 
 was lined on both sides with children. Now she was rather 
 well known to the children about, and they had come in a 
 great number ; and when she passed down between them, it 
 appeared that the little folks had brought vast heaps of prim- 
 roses and violets in their aprons and in their tiny baskets, 
 and they strewed her path with these flowers of the new spring. 
 Well, she burst into tears at this ; and hastily leaving her hus- 
 band's arm for a moment, she caught up one of the least of 
 the children — a small, golden-haired girl of four — and kissed 
 her. Then she turned to her husband again, and was glad 
 that he led her down to the gate, for her eyes were so blinded 
 with tears that she could not see her way. 
 
 Nor did anything very remarkable occur at the wedding- 
 breakfast. But there was a garrulous old lady there, with 
 bright, pink cheeks and silvery hair ; and she did not cease 
 to prattle to the clergyman who had officiated in the church, 
 and who was seated next her. 
 
 "Indeed, Mr. Trewhella," she said confidentially, "I al- 
 ways said this is what would come of it. Never any one of 
 those Trelyon* set his heart on a girl but he got her ; and 
 what was the use of friends or relatives fighting against it ? 
 Nay, I don't think there's any cause of complaint — not I ! 
 She's a modest, nice, lady-like girl — she is indeed — although 
 she isn't so handsome as her sister. Dear, dear me, look at 
 that girl now ! Won't she be a prize for some man ! I de- 
 clare I haven't seen so handsome a girl for many a day. And 
 as I tell you, Mr. Trewhella, it's no use trying to prevent it ; 
 if one of the Trelyons falls in love with a girl, the girl's done 
 for — she may as well give in — " 
 
 " If I may say so," observed the old clergyman, with a sly 
 gallantry, "you do not give the gentlemen of your family 
 credit for the most remarkable feature of their marriage con- 
 nections. They seem to have always had a very good idea 
 of making an excellent choice." 
 
 The old lady was vastly pleased. 
 
 " Ah, well," she said, with a shrewd smile, " there were 
 two or three who thought George Trelyon — that was this 
 young man's grandfather, you know — lucky enough, if 
 one might judge by the noise they made. Dear, dear, what 
 
AN OLD LADY'S APOLOGY. zyj 
 
 a to-do there was when we ran away ! Why, don't you know, 
 Mr. Trewhella, that I ran away from a ball with him—and 
 drove to Gretna Green with my ball-dress on, as I'm a living 
 woman ! Such a ride it was !— why, when we got up to Car- 
 lisle—" 
 
 But that story has been told before. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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