J iM
 
 
 nMxi 
 
 1^ ;^y^ %j^ M 
 
 L I B RARY 
 
 OF THE 
 UN IVERSITY 
 or ILLINOIS 
 
 823 
 
 3SGt 
 
 IST5
 
 jc^e^y-f^cc. f'Tin^ X ^ V^'^^-^....^ 
 
 fv./y J-
 
 THEEE FEATHEES. 
 
 ^ ^aml 
 
 BY WILLIAM BLACK, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 A PEINCESS OF THULE," "A DAUGHTER OF HETH," ETC. 
 
 IN THBEE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, LOW & SEARLE, 
 
 CEOWN BUILDINGS, 188, FLEET STREET. 
 
 1875. 
 
 (All rights reserved.)
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOTTES AND SONS, 
 
 6TAHFOBD STREET AND CHABING CBOSS.
 
 
 < 
 
 J 
 
 
 TO 
 
 E. W. B. 
 
 London, May 1, 1875.
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. I, 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. Master Haery ... ... ... 1 
 
 II. Jim Crow ... ... ... 21 
 
 III. Res Angust^ DoMi ... ... 41 
 
 TV. The last Look back ... ... 79 
 
 V. Throwing a Fly ... ... ... 110 
 
 yi. The AMONG the Tailors ... 123 
 
 YII. Some New Experiences ... ... 148 
 
 VIII. Wenna's first Triumph ... 164 
 
 IX. The Ring of Evil Omen ... ... 178 
 
 X. The Snares of London ... ... 198 
 
 XL The Two Pictures ... ... ... 218 
 
 XIL The Chain Tightens ... ... 236 
 
 XIII. An Unexpected Convert ... ... 254 
 
 XIY. "Sie bat so Sanft, so Lieblich" ... 264 
 
 XY. A Leave-taking op Lovers ... ... 282
 
 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 CHAPTEK 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 mother's heart. But it's 
 the way of all you Trelyons. 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 iuto, ain't it?" 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 Z THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 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 hun- 
 di'ed and fifty years. And it was set amid 
 beautiful trees, and it overlooked a pictu- 
 resque little valley, and fi-om this garden- 
 terrace in front of it you could catch a 
 glimpse of a tiny harbour 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 bhnds be 
 down ? " said the old lady. *' It's the anni- 
 versary of your father's death." 
 
 ^'It's always the anniversary of some- 
 body's death," her grandson said, impa- 
 tiently 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
 
 MASTER HARRY. 3 
 
 the 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 neighbour- 
 hood ain't enough, — they must come from 
 all parts of the coimtry, 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." 
 
 ^' Hany, Harry, where do you expect to 
 go to, if you hate the parsons so ? " the old 
 lady said; but there was scarcely that 
 earnestness of reproof in her tone that 
 ought to have been there. "And yet it's 
 the 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 carrjdng
 
 € THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 stories to my father, and how that he (your 
 grandfather) was to he 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 walkmg 
 home, your grandfather rode after him, and 
 overtook him, and called out, ^Look here, 
 sir ! you have been telling Hes 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, mth your grandfather after 
 him, driving his horse at him when he 
 stopped, and only shouting with laughter in 
 answer to his cries and prayers. 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
 
 MASTEK HARRY. 5 
 
 too proud to come ; but we got married for 
 all that — oil yes ! we got married for all 
 that." 
 
 The old lady laughed in her quiet way. 
 
 '^ You were too good for a parson, gTand- 
 mother, 111 he bound," said Master Harry 
 Trelyon. "You are one of the right sort, 
 you are. If I could find any girl, now, hke 
 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 thi'ee 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 beheve, 
 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 giil a 
 chance. It isn't ask and have, — it's come 
 and take ; and so a girl becomes a Trelyon
 
 C) THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 before she knows where she is. Dear, dear, 
 what a fine man yonr grandfather was, to 
 be siu'e ; and such a pleasant, frank, good- 
 natured w^ay 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 marriage ! Yes, indeed, I was 
 mad about him too, only that he was just 
 as mad about me ; and that night of the 
 ball, when 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 
 tlien 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 daj'- 
 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 off
 
 MASTER HARrvY. 7 
 
 again; and your grandfather had such a 
 way with him, Harry, that the silliest of 
 girls would have plucked up her spuits 1 
 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 ! " 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 morn- 
 ing as we di'ove 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
 
 8 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 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, 
 ^ Good heavens, cliild, 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 Admhal, isn't he ? ' she 
 says, and I told her he was ; and then quick 
 as lightning what does she do but whip 
 round into the yard, get hold of your grand- 
 father, 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
 
 MASTER HARRY. 9 
 
 off, we heard that dear, good, kind old crea- 
 ture 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 streets, and over the 
 bridge, and iip the hill, and out the level 
 lanes. Dear, dear, I can see the country 
 now. I can remember every hedge, and 
 the two rivers we crossed, and the hills up 
 in the north ; and all the time your grand- 
 father kept up the laugh, for he saw I was 
 frightened. And there we w^ere wedded, 
 sure enough, and all in good time, for Lady 
 MacGorman'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. x\nd then I said to 
 your grandfather, ' What sliall we do,
 
 10 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 George?' ^We shall have to stand and 
 deliver, Sue ! ' says he ; and with that lie 
 had the horses pulled up, and we got out. 
 And when m}^ father came up he got out, 
 too, and George took me hy 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 
 foi-ward to my father. I don't knovf what 
 he said, I v/as 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 for- 
 ward 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 — * 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
 
 MASTER HARRY. 11 
 
 handsomer man than my father, nor a better 
 man either." 
 
 ^'I don't say that," the old lady ob- 
 served, candidly. ^'Yom* 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 her- 
 self. She began to tell the lad in hovv' far 
 he resembled his gTandfather in appearance, 
 and he accepted these descriptions of his 
 features apd figure in a heedless manner, 
 as of one who had groAvn too familiar mth 
 the fact of his being handsome to care 
 about it. Had not every one paid him com- 
 pliments, more or less indu'ect, from his 
 cradle upwards ? He was, indeed, all that 
 the old lady would have desired to see in a 
 Trelyon — tall, square-shouldered, clean- 
 limbed, with dark grey eyes set under black
 
 12 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 eyelashes, a somewhat aquihue nose, proud 
 and well-cut Hps, a handsome forehead, and 
 a complexion which might have been pale, 
 but for its having been bronzed by constant 
 exposure 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 dehghtful to 
 hear. With all these personal advantages, 
 joined to a fauiy quick intelligence and a 
 ready sympathy. Master Harry Trelyon 
 ought to have been a universal favourite. 
 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
 
 MASTER harry; 13 
 
 endeavoured 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 criticisms was 
 that they did not concern very much the 
 subject of them. 
 
 ^' And if I am hke 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, indig- 
 nantly; remembering that, after all, to praise 
 the good looks and excuse the hot-headed- 
 ness 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
 
 14 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 lieard," the lad said, ^^itll an impei*tment 
 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 gamekeeper; 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 gover- 
 ness, and would say nothing to her for days 
 together, but 
 
 * As I luas going to St. Ives, 
 I met fifty old ivives.' 
 
 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 must be sent to school; but 
 two days afterwards Master Harry is dis- 
 covered at the edge of a wood, coolly seated
 
 MASTER HARRY. 15 
 
 with a giin in his hand, waiting for his 
 ferrets to drive out the rabbits. Then 
 Master Harry is furnished with a private 
 tutor; but a parcel of gunpowder is found 
 below the gentleman's chair, with the hea.ds 
 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 gamekeeper, 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 you 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 
 sparrowhawk ? ' ' 
 
 He only flicked at the rose, and laughed; 
 lecturing had but little effect on him.
 
 16 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 ^'Do you think a girl would come to a 
 house hke this, — one half of it filled with 
 dogs, and birds, and squirrels, and what not, 
 the other furnished Hke 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 non- 
 sense about me." 
 
 ^' Have they?" said the old lady, 
 sharply, and eyeing him keenly. ^' Are you 
 sure it is all nonsense ? You talk of marry- 
 ing, — and you know that no giii of your own 
 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 round mth a quick look of 
 anger in his face. 
 
 ''Who told you such infamous stories? 
 1 suppose one of the cringing, sneaking, 
 white-livered Bah ! "
 
 MASTER HARRY. 17 
 
 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 round 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. 
 
 The children knew well this black horse : 
 they had a superstitious 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 
 
 VOL. T. C
 
 18 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 he was going, a small, wliite-liaii-ed 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 
 leapt 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 affixing 
 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 ? "
 
 MASTER HAREY. 19 
 
 She uttered a little scream, and caught 
 at the boy. 
 
 **0h! there's no harm done; but I 
 suppose I must give him a couple of 
 sovereigns because he nearly Mghtened me 
 out of my wits. Poor Httle 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 Fen,'' 
 
 ^^ You knaw 'twere his vather's name, 
 Maaster Harry," said Mrs. Luke, smihng 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 accustomed 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 round her in a circle. 
 
 *^ Oh, I beg your pardon, Miss Wenna ! "
 
 20 THREE FExVIHERS. 
 
 the young man said, removing his hat 
 quickly, and bhishing all over his hand- 
 some 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 fiightened 
 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." 
 
 ^^ 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 here- 
 tofore. 
 
 i
 
 ( 21 ) 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 JIM CROW. 
 
 When Miss Wenna, or Morwenna, as her 
 mother in a freak of romanticism had caUed 
 her, had finished her teaching, and had 
 inspected some fashioning of garments in 
 which Mrs. Luke was engaged, she put on 
 her Hght 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 
 Httle 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
 
 22 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 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 thorough- 
 fare by the presence there of two greystone 
 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 Eglo- 
 silyan 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 harbour, 
 tortuous, narrow, and deep, into which one 
 or two heavy coasters came for slate, bring- 
 ing with them timber and coal. Eglosilyan 
 is certainly a picturesque place ; but one's 
 difficulty is to get anything hke a proper 
 view of it. The black and mighty cHffs 
 at the mouth of the harbour, where the
 
 JIM CKOW. 23 
 
 Atlantic seethes and boils in the calmest 
 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 Eglo- 
 silyan? Then if you go up one of the 
 ravines, and get among the old houses, 
 mth their tree-fuchsias, and hydrangeas, 
 and marigolds, and lumps of white quartz 
 in the quaint Httle gardens, you find yom*- 
 seK looking do^m the chimneys of one 
 portion of Eglosilyan, and looking up to 
 the doorsteps of another — everywhere a 
 confasion of hewn rock, and natural 
 terrace, and stone walls, and bushes, and 
 hart's-tongue fern. Some thought that 
 the Trelyon Ai'ms should be considered 
 the natui'al centre of Eglosilyan; but you 
 could not see haK a dozen houses from 
 any of its windows. Others would have 
 given the post of honour to the National 
 School, which had been there since 1843;
 
 24 THKEE FEATHERS. 
 
 but it was up in a by-street, and conld 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, often- 
 times wet with the w^estern 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 
 an; and by-and-by she came in sight of 
 an elderly man, who, standing in an odd
 
 JIM CEOW. 25 
 
 little donkey-cart, and holding the reins in 
 one hand, held with the other a cornopean, 
 which he played with great skill. No one 
 in Eglosilyan could tell precisely whether 
 Michael Jago had been bugler to some regi- 
 ment, or had acquired his knowledge of the 
 cornopean in a travelling show ; but every- 
 body Hked 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 hsten to him, the 
 pathos of certain parts, and the florid and 
 skilful execution of others, showed that 
 Mr. Jago had a true love for music, and 
 did not merely use it to advertise his 
 wares. 
 
 *^ Good-morniag to you, Mr. Jago," said 
 Miss Wenna, as he came up.
 
 26 ' THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 *^ 'Marnin, Miss Eosewarne," he said, 
 taking down his cornopean. 
 
 *^ This is a narrow road for your cart." 
 
 ^^ 'Tain't a very good way; but bless you, 
 me and my donkey we're used to any zart 
 of a road. I du beheve we could go down 
 to the bache, down the face of Black Chff." 
 
 ^' 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 extra 
 bit, won't you? And so with Mrs. Geswethe- 
 rick, 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 
 knov/." 
 
 She put the coin in his hand — it was an 
 arrangement of old standing between the 
 two. 
 
 ^' Well, yu 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
 
 JIM CROW. 27 
 
 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 up- 
 lands of the coast. Over there was the sea 
 — a fair summer sea ; and down into the 
 south-west stretched a tall line of chff, 
 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 con- 
 nected with the mainland a huge projecting 
 promontory, on the summit of which was 
 a square and strongly built tower. On both 
 sides of this ledge of rock the sea from be- 
 low passed into narrow channels, and roared
 
 28 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 into gigantic caves ; but when once you had 
 ascended again to tlie 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 chffs 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 began 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
 
 JIM CROW. 29 
 
 Pendragon kept his state, where the mystic 
 Arthur was born, where the brave Sir Tris- 
 tram went to see his true love. La Belle 
 Isoulde. All that world had vanished, and 
 gone into silence ; could anything be more 
 mute and still than those bare uplands out 
 at the end of the world, these voiceless 
 chffs, and the empty circle of the sea ? The 
 sun was hot on the rocks beneath her, 
 where the pink quartz lay encrusted among 
 the slate ; but there was scarcely the hum 
 of an insect to break the stillness, and the 
 only sign of hfe 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 tourna-
 
 30 THREE FEATHEES. 
 
 ments were lield, and the sun slione out, 
 and the noble ladies wore rich colours, and 
 every one came to see how beautiful they 
 were. And how fine it 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, putting everything to rights, 
 because you have lots of money, and be- 
 cause 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 manner ; and every one around her is 
 pleased to serve her, and she can do a kind- 
 ness by merely saying a word to the poor 
 people ! But if you are only Jim Crow ? 
 There's Mabyn, now, she is everybody's
 
 JIM CEOW. 31 
 
 favourite 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 photo- 
 graph; and Mr. Eoscorla 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 favours 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
 
 32 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 yet in the dark eyes, whicli had a strange 
 and wmning earnestness in them. She 
 pulled a bit of tormentil fi'om among the 
 close warm grass on the rocks, and she 
 hummed a line or two of ^^ Wapping Old 
 Stairs." Then she turned to 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 herself, ^^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 cul- 
 tivate. How much better it would be to
 
 JIM CROW. 33 
 
 be pretty while you are young, and leave 
 the cultivation of the mind for after years I 
 and that is why I have to prevent mother 
 from scolding Mahyn for never reading a 
 book. If I were hke Mahyn, 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 per- 
 suade Mr. Koscorla, by the mere sweetness 
 of her manner, to be less suspicious of 
 people, and less bitter in talking ; she 
 could go up to Mrs. Trelyon and bring 
 her out more among her neighbours, 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 
 
 YOL. I. D
 
 34 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 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 affec- 
 tionate and winning? Not Jim Crow, any 
 way." 
 
 She heaved a sigh, not a very dismal 
 one, and got up and prepared to go home. 
 She was humming carelessly to herself — 
 
 Your Polly has never heen false, she declares, 
 Since last time ive 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 round, 
 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 surg- 
 ing in among the black rocks.
 
 JIM CROW. 35 
 
 ^^ oil ! 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 snre-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 going 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 round his horse. 
 
 '^ Mr. Trelyon," she said, quickly, 
 ^^ would you obhge me by getting down
 
 36 THKEE FEATHERS. 
 
 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 Eglo- 
 silyan, if you hke," he said, carelessly. 
 ^^ You often come up here, don't you?" 
 
 '^ Nearly every day. I always take a 
 walli in the forenoon." 
 
 '' Does Mabyn ever go with you ? '' His 
 companion noticed that he always addi'essed 
 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 hke to try a lady's saddle 
 on your father's cob, I would send you one 
 down fi'om the Hall," the lad said. ^' My 
 mother never rides now. But perhaps I'd
 
 JIM CROW. 37 
 
 better speak to yonr 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 Launceston 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 
 strangers, 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 of 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 fi-ight; and at 
 last, when the two men seemed about to 
 seize each other by the throat, he called
 
 38 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 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 cowardl}'. 
 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
 
 JIM CROW. 39 
 
 himself, if he had known, would not have 
 been so fearfully serious but that he could 
 have taken a joke hke any one else. By 
 the way, this is the nearest road to Tre- 
 venna, isn't it? I have got to ride over 
 there before the afternoon, Miss Kosewarne ; 
 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 being un- 
 able to imderstand a joke like any one else. 
 Yet she 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 
 cheerfulty accepted the fact. Sometimes, 
 it is true, she indulged in idle dreams of
 
 40 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 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 Eglo- 
 silyan, with the tune of ^' Wapping Old 
 Stah's" 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 pas- 
 sions 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.
 
 ( 41 ) 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 RES ANGUST.E DOMI. 
 
 When George Eosewarne, the father of 
 this Miss Wenna, lived in eastern Devon- 
 shire, 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 Eosewarne 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. Eosewarne was
 
 42 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 SO often poorly, for slie and her husband 
 looked well together 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 in- 
 dulge this selfishness he was capable of a 
 good deal of petty deceit and even treachery 
 of a sort. It was not these failings, how- 
 ever, that made the relations of husband 
 and wife not very satisfactory. Mrs. Eose- 
 wame was passionately fond of her husband, 
 and proportionately jealous of him. She 
 was a woman of impulsive imagination 
 and of sympathetic nature, clever, bright 
 and fanciful, well-read and well-taught, and
 
 RES ANGUST^ DOMI. 43 
 
 altogether made of finer stuff than Hand- 
 some George. But this passion of jea- 
 lousy 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 
 Eosewarne 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 peni- 
 tent mood ; and there is nothing an indolent 
 sulky person likes so much as to be coaxed 
 and caressed, with tears of repentance and 
 affectionate promises, into a good temper 
 again. There were too many of such scenes 
 in George Kosewarne's home.
 
 44 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 Mrs. Eosewarne 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 retm^ned from India, 
 and was the sister-in-law, or some such 
 relation, of George Eosewarne 's master. 
 She was a good-looking woman of forty, 
 fresh-coloured and free-spoken, a little too 
 fond of brandy-and-water, folks said, and a 
 good 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 theii' cards. And amid all 
 this gossip the name of George Eosewarne 
 too frequently turned up ; and there were 
 nods and winks when Mrs. Shirley and the 
 steward were seen to be riding about the
 
 EES ANGUST.E DOMI. 45 
 
 country from day to day, presumably not 
 always conversing about the property. 
 
 The blow fell at last, and that in a 
 fashion that needs not be described here. 
 There was a wild scene between two angry 
 women. A few days after, a sallow-com- 
 plexioned, white-haired old gentleman 
 arrived from Paris, and was confronted by 
 a red-faced fury, who gloried in her in- 
 fatuation and disgrace, and dared him to 
 interfere. Then there was a sort of con- 
 ference of relatives held in the house which 
 she still inhabited. The result of all this, 
 so far as the Eosewarnes were concerned, 
 was simply that the relatives of the woman, 
 to hush the matter up and prevent further 
 scandal, offered to purchase for George 
 Eosewarne the " Trelyon Arms" at Eglo- 
 silyan, on condition that he should 
 immediately, with his family, betake him- 
 self to that remote corner of the world, and 
 undertake to hold no further communi-
 
 46 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 cation of any sort witli the woman who still 
 (with some flash of rhetoric, which probably 
 meant nothing) swore that she would follow 
 him to the end of the earth. George 
 Kosewarne was pleased with the offer, and 
 accepted it. He might have found some 
 difficulty in discovering another steward- 
 ship, after the events that had just 
 occurred. On the other hand, the ''Tre- 
 lyo2i Arms" at Eglosilyan was not a mere 
 pubhc-house. It was an old-fashioned, 
 quaint, and comfortable inn, practically 
 shut up during the winter, and in the 
 summer made the head-quarters of a few 
 families who had discovered it, and who 
 went there as regularly as the warm 
 weather came round. A few antiquarian 
 folks, too, and a stray geologist or so, 
 generally made up the 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
 
 KES ANGUST^ DOMI. 47 
 
 and out-of-the-way place, ever failed to 
 return to it when the winter had finally 
 cleared away and the Atlantic got blue 
 again ? 
 
 George Eosewarne 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 contrary, be trained in all 
 the ordinary accompHshments of young 
 ladies; for he was rather a proud man. 
 And so the Kosewarnes were drafted doT\Ti 
 to the Cornish coast; and as Mrs. Eose- 
 warne was of Cornish birth, and as she had 
 given both her daughters Cornish names, 
 th,ej gradually ceased to be regarded as 
 strangers. They made many acquaintances 
 and friends. Mrs. Eosewarne was a bright,
 
 48 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 rapid, playful talker ; a woman of consider- 
 able reading and intelligence, and a sym- 
 pathetic listener. Her husband knew all 
 about horses, and dogs, and farming, and 
 what not ; so that young Harry Trelyon. 
 for example, was in the habit of consult- 
 ing him almost daily. 
 
 They had a little parlour 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, 
 halfway up one of the steep streets. 
 
 But in leaving Devonshire for Cornwall, 
 the Kosewarnes had carried with them a 
 fatal inheritance. They could not leave 
 behind them the memory of the cii'cum- 
 stances that had caused then- flight; and 
 ever and anon, as something occurred to
 
 KES ANGUST^ DOMI. 49 
 
 provoke her suspicions, Mrs. Eosewarne 
 would break out again into a passion of 
 jealousy, and demand explanations and 
 reassurances, which her husband half-indo- 
 lently 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 neighbours did ; 
 but she saw that her mother had defects of 
 temper, that she was irritable, unreason- 
 able, and suspicious, and she saw that her 
 father was inconsiderately indifferent and 
 harsh. It was a hard task to reconcile 
 these two ; but the gud had all the patience 
 of a born peacemaker : 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?" 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 60 THKEE FEATHEES. 
 
 she said on this occasion, 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 to the table, and said, 
 with a sort of half-hysterical laugh, ^'How 
 stupid it is, Wenna, to cry over the mis- 
 fortunes 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 window of the room a tall and strik- 
 ingly 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 beautiful face, '^ It is only 
 another quaiTel, Wenna."
 
 RES ANGUSTyE DOMI. 51 
 
 *' 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. Eosewarne 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 some- 
 thing 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 evening he had 
 spent at the theatre. Wenna reasoned with 
 her mother, and pleaded with her, and at 
 last exercised a httle authority over her; at 
 
 LIBRARY
 
 52 THEEE FEATHERS. 
 
 tlie end of wliicli 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." 
 
 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. Koscorla, Wenna," the 
 mother said; and now she saw, as she 
 might have seen before, that her daughter 
 was a httle paler than usual, and somewhat 
 agitated. 
 
 ''Yes, mother."
 
 RES ANGUSTiE DOMI. 53 
 
 ^'What is it, then? Yoii look fright- 
 ened." 
 
 *'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 Eosewarne, 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 ahghting on the roof. In the 
 calm of the midsummer's day there was no 
 sound but the incessant thi'obbing 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
 
 54 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 beginning in a meek way, when lie inter- 
 rupted 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 will 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 anything better," the 
 girl said, mildly. " She is a good woman, 
 and she loves you dearly." 
 
 " Why," he said, turning suddenly upon
 
 RES ANGUST^E DOMI. 65 
 
 lier, and speaking in an injured way, ^^no 
 one went with me to the theatre at Ply- 
 mouth ! Did I say that anybody 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 ? ' ' 
 
 '^ 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
 
 56 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 little cat, lie walked into the house and into 
 the room where his wife awaited him. 
 
 Meanwhile, Wenna Kosewarne had 
 stolen off to her own little room, and 
 there she sat down at the window, and 
 with trembhng fingers took out a letter 
 and began to read it. It was certainly a 
 document of some length, consisting, in- 
 deed, 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. Kosewarne appeared, the 
 pale face and large dark eyes being now 
 filled with a radiant pleasure. Her hus- 
 band had said something friendly to her ; 
 and the quick, imaginative nature had leapt 
 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 gui, '' Avhat is it all about ?
 
 RES ANGUST^ DOMI. 57 
 
 and why did you look so frightened a few 
 minutes ago ? " 
 
 '^ Oh, mother!" the girl said, ^'this is 
 a letter from Mr. Koscorla, and he wants 
 me to marry him." 
 
 "Mr. Eoscorla!" cried the mother, in 
 blank astonishment. " 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. Eoscorla 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 sugges- 
 tion of what she had read, to let her mother 
 know what were the arguments that Mr. 
 Eoscorla 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. Eoscorla wrote thus : —
 
 58 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 ^^ Basset Cottage, Etjlosilyan, July 18, 18 — , 
 
 '^ My dear Miss Wenna, 
 
 '^ I fear that this letter may surprise 
 you, but I hope yon will read it through 
 without alarm or indignation, and deal 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 wiiting ; 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 to 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
 
 KES ANGUST^ DOMI. 59 
 
 heart, and modesty of demeanour, that 
 have endeared you to the whole of the 
 people among whom you live — you may 
 fairly say that I never betrayed my admi- 
 ration of you in word or deed; and that 
 is true. I cannot precisely tell you why 
 I should be more distant in manner to- 
 wards her whom I preferred to all the 
 world than to her immediate friends and 
 associates 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 ex- 
 ample ; 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 that was different. Perhaps it is be- 
 cause 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
 
 60 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 endeavour to break to you gently — my 
 wish and earnest liope that you may be- 
 come 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 pretend to offer you that 
 fervid passion which, to the imagination 
 of the young, seems the only thing worth 
 Hving for, and one of the necessary con- 
 ditions 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 unreasonable 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 romantiq
 
 RES ANGUST^ DOMI. 61 
 
 idealism wliicli seldom lasts beyond a few 
 weeks after marriage, but those who had 
 msely chosen partners fitted to become 
 their constant and affectionate friends. It 
 is this possibility of friendship, indeed, 
 which is the very basis of a happy mar- 
 riage. The romance and passion of love 
 soon depart ; then the man and woman 
 find themselves Hving in the same house, 
 dependent on each other's character, in- 
 telligence, and disposition, and bound by 
 inexorable ties. If, in these circumstances, 
 they can be good fi'iends, it is well with 
 them. If they admire each other's thoughts 
 and feelings, if they are generously con- 
 siderate towards each other's weaknesses, if 
 they have pleasure in each other's society — 
 if, in short, they find themselves bound to 
 each other by the ties of a true and disin- 
 terested friendship, the world has been good 
 to them. I say nothing against that period 
 of passion which, in some rare and fortunate
 
 €2 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 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 no- 
 thing remains but ashes and an empty 
 fireplace — who is to say that the capacity 
 for a firm and lasting friendship will sm*- 
 vive ? 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 
 ardour of love was anything but a happi- 
 ness to those concerned. The freaks of 
 jealousy on the part of a boy and girl who
 
 RES ANGUSTiE DOMI. 63 
 
 think of getting married are but occasions 
 for the making of quarrels and the dehght 
 of reconciliation; but a life-long jealousy 
 involves a torture to both husband and wdfe 
 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 with- 
 in my reach," the letter continued, '^to 
 form a judgment of your character ; I know 
 something of my own ; and I sincerely be- 
 lieve 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 ac- 
 quaintance except those I meet under your 
 father's hospitable roof. I cannot conceal 
 from myself that I should be by far the
 
 64 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 greater gainer by sucli a marriage : I should 
 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 oppor- 
 tunity 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 en- 
 deavour and pleasure, to Avin 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
 
 EES ANGUST^ DOMI. 65 
 
 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 
 happiness 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 telhng 
 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 
 
 VOL. 1. F
 
 66 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 ine the benefit of tlie doubt, and let me ex- 
 plain. 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 
 Hne soon, merely to say that I have not 
 offended you. 
 
 "I am, my dear Miss Eosewarne, 
 *^ Yours most sincerely, 
 
 ^' KiCHAED EOSCORLA." 
 
 ''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 
 rephed, calmly ; '^ but you needn't decide all 
 at once. Take plenty of time. I suppose 
 you don't dishke Mr. Eoscorla? " 
 
 '* 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. Eosewarne said. "I 
 cannot advise you, Wenna. Your own
 
 RES ANGUST.E DOMI. 67 
 
 feelings must settle the question. But you 
 ought to be very proud of the offer, any way ; 
 and you must thank him properly ; for Mr. 
 Eoscorla is a gentleman, although he is not 
 as rich as his relations; and it is a great 
 honour 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, 
 Weima, 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 anxiously. ''But you are of
 
 08 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 that nature, you see. If you were in love 
 witli 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 only 
 care for doll-faces — as Mr. Eoscorla 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
 
 RES ANGUSTiE DOMI. 69 
 
 that sort of love that Mr. Eoscorla describes, 
 aud suffer Httle if they made a mistake. 
 But there's no shell aboat 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 wiiting-desk. 
 
 '' 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 feel- 
 ings, 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 gi'eat mistake, Wenna. You must not
 
 70 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 throw yourself away through that notiou. 
 I wish all the girls about were as clever and 
 good-natured as you. But at the same 
 time, you know, there are few gii'ls I know, 
 and certainly none about here, who would 
 consider it throwing themselves away to 
 marry Mr. Eoscorla." 
 
 ^^ Marry Mr, Boscorla!'' 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-colom-ed letter \jmg 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 I 
 Oh, mother ! how can you let her do such a 
 thing?" 
 
 She walked right over to the small table ^
 
 RES ANGUSTiE DOMI. 71 
 
 with a glow of indignation 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. Koscorla 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. Eoscorla is not an old 
 man — nothing of the sort ; and, if he does 
 offer to marry Wenna, it is a great honour 
 done to her, I think. She ought to be very
 
 72 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 grateful, as I hope you will be, Mabyn, wlieu 
 any one offers to marry you " 
 
 Miss Mabyn drew berseK 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 her- 
 self! " broke in the younger sister im- 
 petuously. ^' She will do anything that 
 anybody wants. She would make herself 
 the slave of anybody. She is always being 
 imposed on. Just wait a moment, and I 
 will answer Mr. Eoscorla's letter ! " 
 
 She walked over to the table again, 
 twisted round the writing-desk, and quickly 
 pulled in a chau'. You would 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 im- 
 petuosity were no match for the gentle
 
 EES ANGUST^ DOMI. 73 
 
 firmness and patience that were invariably 
 opposed to them. In this instance Mr. 
 Eo scoria was not to be the recipient of a 
 letter which doubtless would have astonished 
 him. 
 
 " Mabyn," said her sister Wenna, 
 quietly, " don't be foolish. I must write to 
 Mr. Eoscorla — 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 Avent off to 
 execute the errand ; but as she went she 
 said to herself, with her head very erect, 
 *' Before Mr. Eoscorla marries oiu' Wenna, 
 I will have a word to say to him." 
 
 Meanwhile Wenna Eosewarne, apj)a- 
 rently quite calm, but with her hand trem- 
 bling so that she could hardly hold the pen, 
 wrote her first love-letter ; and it ran thus : —
 
 74 THREE FEATHEKS. 
 
 " Trelyon Arms, Tuesday Afternoon. 
 
 ''Dear Mr. Eoscorla, 
 
 '' I have received your letter, and 
 you must not tliink 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 Eosewarne.'' 
 
 She took it timidly to her mother, who 
 smiled, and said it was a Httle 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 afternoon that was shining 
 over Eglosilyan as she left the inn and 
 stole away out to the rocks at the mouth 
 of the Httle harbom\ She spoke to her 
 many acquaintances as she passed, and 
 could not have told a minute thereafter
 
 RES ANGUST^ DOML 75 
 
 that she had seen them. She said a word 
 or two to the coastguardsman out at the 
 ]3oiiit — 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 di'eam. 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 recovered from the 
 absolute fright that so sudden a proposal 
 had caused her — something of j)ride and 
 pleasure crept into her heart to know that 
 she was not quite the insignificant person 
 she had fancied herseK to be. Was it true, 
 then, what he had said about her being 
 of some use to the poeple 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 sus- 
 ]Dicious and censorious ?
 
 76 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 There flashed upon her some faint 
 picture of herself as a matron, and she 
 found herself hlushing to think of herself 
 going round the cottages as Mrs. Eoscorla, 
 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 prospect rather pleased her. 
 These were duties she could understand. 
 Marriage, in those idle day-dreams of hers, 
 had seemed to her some vague, and dis- 
 tant, and awful thing; all the romance, 
 and worship, and nohle self- surrender of it 
 being far away from a poor little plain 
 person, not capable of inspu'ing idealism in 
 anybody. But this, on the other hand, 
 seemed easily within her reach. She be- 
 came rather amused with the picture of 
 herself which she drew as Mrs. Eoscorla. 
 Her quick fancy put in humorous touches 
 here and there, until she found herself 
 pretty nearly laughing at herself as a tiny
 
 KES A^-GUSTiE DOMI. 77 
 
 married woman. For what did the frank- 
 spoken heroine of that sailor-ballad say to 
 her lover ? If he would be faithful and kind^ 
 
 Ko7' your Molly forsake, 
 Still your trousers I'll ivash, and your grog, too, lUl make. 
 
 As for his grog, would she mix the proper 
 quantities, as they sat together of an even- 
 ing, by themselves, in that little parlour 
 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 confidence, and 
 listen to all the story of Mabyn 's w^onder 
 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
 
 78 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 experienced adviser, and bid lier be 
 cautions, and ask lier to wait until the 
 young man liad 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 Eosewarne had been amusing 
 herseK with these pictures of herself as a 
 married woman ; but she was crying all the 
 same ; and becoming a httle 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. Eoscorla him- 
 self, who had seen her at a distance, and 
 followed her.
 
 ( 79 ) 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 THE LAST LOOK BACK. 
 
 Me. Boscorla may be recommended to 
 ladies generally, and to married men who 
 are haimted by certain vague and vain re- 
 grets, as an excellent example of the evils 
 and vanity of club-life. He was now a man 
 approaching fifty, careful in di*ess and 
 manner, metliodical in habit, and grave of 
 aspect, hving out a not over-enjoyable Hfe 
 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 favourite, 
 clever in his way, free with his money, and 
 possessed of excellent spuits. He was not
 
 80 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 very wealthy, to be sure ; his father had 
 left him certain shares in some plantations 
 in Jamaica, but the returns periodically 
 forwarded to him by his agents were suffi- 
 cient for his immediate wants. He had few 
 cares, and he seemed on the whole to have 
 a pleasant time of it. On disengaged even- 
 ings 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 
 changed their coats, would have a few 
 games at whist, perhaps 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 special attentions, 
 but careful never to commit himself. 
 When every one v/ent from town he went 
 too, and in the autumn and winter months 
 he had a fair amount of shooting and
 
 THE LAST LOOK BACK. 81 
 
 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 fraternized 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 sixpenny 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 coAild tell you to a penny the bribe 
 
 YOr<. 1. G
 
 82 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 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 doubt- 
 less true, and they were nearly all unplea- 
 sant ; but then the tale that would have 
 been regarded with indifference if told 
 about an ordinary 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 per- 
 sonal experiences. He was a fairly well- 
 intentioned young man ; and, going home 
 one night, was moved to pity by the sobbing 
 and exclamations of a little girl of twelve.
 
 THE LAST LOOK BACK. 83 
 
 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 Ros- 
 corla 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 between the eyes, nearly 
 bhnding him, and causing him to keep his 
 chambers 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 atmosphere 
 of that institution that he by-and-by 
 abandoned himself to trade, renewed his 
 acquaintance with Mr. Roscorla, and be- 
 sought him to join him in a little business 
 transaction. He only wanted a few thou- 
 sand pounds to secure the succedl of a
 
 84 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 venture that would make both tlieii' for- 
 tunes. Young Eoscorla hesitated. Then 
 his friend sent his wife, an exceedingly 
 pretty woman, and she pleaded with such 
 sweetness and pathos that she actually 
 carried away a cheque for the amount in 
 her beautiful Httle purse; A couple of days 
 afterwards Mr. Eoscorla discovered that 
 his friend had suddenly left the country; 
 that he had induced a good many people 
 to lend him money to start his new enter- 
 prise ; 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 then he showed in speaking 
 of his departed money. Young Eoscorla 
 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
 
 THE LAST LOOK BACK. 85 
 
 pressed Min hardly for a few years, and 
 gave a flight 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-Hfe has fostered. It was the belief 
 of those young men that in England there 
 are a vast number of young ladies of for- 
 tune who are so exceedingly anxious to get 
 married, that an}^ 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. Koscorla 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 con- 
 sented to reHnquish the joys and freedom of
 
 80 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 bachelorhood. 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 w^as impossible 
 for them to consider any lesser offer ; and 
 so they waited from year to year, guarding 
 themselves 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 care- 
 lessly, and enjoyed their time, growing in 
 wisdom of a certain sort. They were 
 gentlemanly young fellows enough; they
 
 THE LAST LOOK BACK. 87 
 
 would not have done a dishonourable 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 masculine Andromeda 
 remained chained to the rock of an ima- 
 ginary poverty, the feminine Perseus who 
 was to come in a blaze of jewels and gold 
 to the rescue, still remained afar o£f, until 
 Andromeda got a little tired. 
 
 And so it was with Mr. Kichard Eos- 
 corla. 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
 
 88 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 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 w^omen, and those 
 shrewd estimates of what was worth Hving 
 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 daybreak, and 
 defying with their splendid constitutions 
 the worst champagne a confectioner ever 
 brewed. A man w4io takes good care of 
 himself is slow to believe that he is grow- 
 ing middle-aged. If the sitting up aU 
 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 thi-ee
 
 THE LAST LOOK BACK. 89 
 
 hours over wet turnips make his knees feel 
 queer, he vows that he is in bad condition, 
 but that a few days' exercise will set him 
 right. It was a long time before Mr. 
 Eichard Koscorla would admit to himself 
 that his hair was growing grey. By this 
 time many of his old friends and associates 
 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 
 bealitiful heiress for whom they had all 
 been previously waiting. And while these 
 men w^ent away, and while new men came 
 into the club — young fellows with fresh 
 complexions, abundant spirits, a lavish 
 disregard of money, and an amazing en- 
 joyment in drinking any sort of wine — 
 another set of circumstances came into 
 play which rendered it more and more 
 necessary for Mr. Eoscorla to change his 
 ways of life.
 
 90 THREE FEATHEKS. 
 
 He was now over forty ; his hair was 
 grey ; 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 
 labour 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 al- 
 together 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 Uttle avail ; at last he resolved to 
 leave London. And then it was that he 
 bethought him of living permanently at this
 
 THE LAST LOOK BACK. 91 
 
 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 liis club-sub- 
 scription ; 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 amuse- 
 ment. 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 httle interest in 
 wild plants ; and he rode a sturdy httle 
 pony by way of exercise. He was known 
 to the Trelyons, to the clergymen of the 
 neighbourhood, and to one or two famihes 
 living farther off; but he did not dine out
 
 92 THREE FExiTHERS. 
 
 much, for lie could not well invite liis host 
 to dinner in return. His chief friends, 
 indeed, were the Kosewarnes; and scarcely 
 a day passed that he did not call at the inn 
 and have a chat with George Eosewarne ; 
 or with his wife and daughters. For the 
 rest, Mr. Eoscorla was a small man, sparely 
 built, with somewhat fresh complexion, 
 close-cropped grey hair and iron-grey 
 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 improved 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 colour of apple-pudding. 
 Mr. Eoscorla, indeed, had the appearance 
 of a pleasant little country lawyer, some- 
 what finical in dress and grave in manner, 
 and occasionally just a trifle supercihous 
 and cutting in his speech.
 
 THE LAST LOOK BACK. 98 
 
 He had received Wenna Eosewarne'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 harboui*. She 
 had a pretty figure, and she walked grace- 
 fully ; 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 constant companion a girl 
 who walked so daintily and dressed so 
 neatly — added some little warmth of feel- 
 ing to the wish he had carefully reasoned 
 out and expressed. For the offer he had 
 sent to Miss Wenna was the result of much 
 calculation. He was half aware that he 
 had let his youth shp 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
 
 94 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 condition by a rich, marriage. What could 
 he now offer to a beautiful young creature 
 possessed of fortune, such as he had often 
 looked out for, in return for herself and 
 her money ? Not his grey hairs, and his 
 asthmatic evenings in winter, and the fixed, 
 and narrow, and oftentimes selfish habits 
 and opinions begotten of a soHtary life. 
 Here, on the other hand, was a young lady 
 of pleasing manners and honest nature, and 
 of humble wishes as became 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 liis own. If she consented to 
 marry him, would they not be able to live 
 in a friendly way together, gradually win- 
 ning each other's sympathy, and making 
 the world a little more sociable and com- 
 fortable for both ? There was no chance
 
 THE LAST LOOK BACK. 95 
 
 of his going back to tlie brilliant society in 
 which he had once moved ; for there was 
 no one whom he could expect to die and 
 leave him any money. When he went up 
 to tovm and spent an evening or two at his 
 club, he found himself almost wholly among 
 strangers ; and he could not get that satis- 
 faction out of a sohtary dinner that once 
 was his. He returned to his cottage at 
 Eglosilyan mth some degree of resignation ; 
 and fancied he could hve well enough there 
 if Wenna Kosewarne would only come to 
 relieve him fi'om its frightful lonehness. 
 
 He blushed when he went forward to her 
 on these rocks, and was exceedingly em- 
 barrassed, 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 httle pale, and w^ould have 
 hked to get away, but was probably so 
 frightened that she iid not know how to 
 take the step. Without a word, she sat
 
 96 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 down again, her heart beating as if it wonld 
 suffocate her. Then there was a terrible 
 pause. 
 
 Mr. Eoscorla 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 it mainly 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 ter- 
 rible recollection flashed in on his mind of 
 Wenna Eosewarne's liking for humour, 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. 

 
 THE LAST LOOK BACK. 97 
 
 and laugh at Jbiin in the safe concealment 
 of her own room. 
 
 '^ Of coui'se," he said, making a sudden 
 l^lunge, followed by a gasp or two — ^' Of 
 course — Miss Wenna — of course you were 
 surprised to get my letter — a letter contain- 
 ing 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 any- 
 thing." 
 
 "Miss Wenna," he said, "you know I 
 find it very difficult to say what I should 
 like to say. That letter did not tell you 
 haK — 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, and whether a precipitate 
 VOL. I. n
 
 98 THKEE FEATHEES. 
 
 plunge into the sea below lier would not be 
 the simplest plan. Her bead, sbe felt, was 
 growing giddy, and sbe began to bear 
 snatcbes of ^' Wapping Old Stairs" in tbe 
 roar of tbe waves around ber. 
 
 But be continued to talk to ber, insisting 
 on mucb be bad said in bis letter, and tbat 
 witb a perfect faitb in its trutb. So far as 
 bis own experience went, tbe bot-beaded 
 romanticism of youtb bad only led to mis- 
 cbief. Tben tbe mere fact tbat sbe allowed 
 him to talk was everytbing ; a point was 
 gained in tbat sbe bad not straightway sent 
 liimoff. 
 
 Incidentally be spoke of ber charitable 
 labours 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
 
 THE LAST LOOK BACK. 99 
 
 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. 
 Koscorla easily perceived this, and made 
 excellent use of his discovery. If she did 
 not quite believe all that she heard, she was 
 secretly dehghted to hear it. It hinted at 
 the possible reahzation 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 connecting Hnk 
 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
 
 100 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 than of temper," he continued, speaking in 
 a roundabout way of marriage. *' When 
 once two people find out the good quahties 
 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 
 people, 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 hum- 
 dram life up in that small cottage. By the 
 way, do you like riding, Wenna? Has 
 your father got a lady's saddle ? " 
 
 The question startled her so that the 
 blood rushed to her face in a moment, and 
 she could not answer. Was it not that
 
 THE LAST LOOK BACK. 101 
 
 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 fature life, calm 
 and placid and commonplace, the sudden 
 introduction into it of Harry Trelyon 
 almost frightened her. The mere recall- 
 ing of his name, indeed, shattered that 
 magic-lantern shde, 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 downs 
 to St. Gennis. We all of us know how apt 
 the mind is to retain one particular im- 
 pression 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 Eosewarne
 
 102 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 thought of Mr. Trelyon, she thought of him 
 as she saw him on that one morning. She 
 was coming along the rough path that 
 crosses the hare uplands hy the sea ; he was 
 riding by another path some little distance 
 off, and did not notice her. The hoy was 
 riding hard ; the sunhght was on his face ; 
 he was singing aloud some song about the 
 Cavahers 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 pictm-e ; 
 and it was the picture of a handsome Eng- 
 Hsh 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 for- 
 getting for a moment the sadness of the 
 world.
 
 THE LAST LOOK BACK. 103 
 
 ^^ 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. Koscorla." 
 
 "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 beHeve there is 
 more affection 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 from you something warmer 
 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 remained silent for what seemed
 
 104 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 to him a strangely long time. Was she 
 bidding good-hye to all the romantic dreams 
 of her youth — to that craving in a giii's 
 heart for some firm and sure ideal of manly 
 love, and courage, and devotion to which 
 she can cHng through good report and bad 
 report ? Was she reconciling herself to the 
 plain and common ways of the married 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. Eoscorla was conscious that he
 
 THE LAST LOOK BACK. 105 
 
 ■ought at this high moment in a man's life 
 to experience a strange thrill of happiness. 
 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 
 Kosewarne was so fine and shy that he 
 shrank from wounding her extreme sensi- 
 tiveness ; and to step forward and kiss this 
 quiet and gentle creature, who stood there 
 with her pale face faintly flushed and her 
 ejes averted — why, it was impossible. He 
 had heard of girls, in wild moments of plea- 
 sure and persuasion, 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 fi'om this calm little 
 girl ? He felt he should be acting the pai-t 
 of a jocular ploughboy. 
 
 ^* Wenna," he said at length, " you have
 
 106 . THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 made me very happy. I am sure you will 
 never repent your decision ; at least I shall 
 do my best to make you tliink you have 
 done right. And, Wenna, I have to dine 
 with the Trelyons on Friday evening ; would 
 you allow me to tell them something of 
 what has happened ? " 
 
 a fjij^g Trelyons ! " she repeated, looking 
 up in a startled way. 
 
 It was of evil omen for this man's 
 happiness that the 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. Eoscorla," 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. Eoscorla," she said, with almost
 
 THE LAST LOOK BACK. 107 
 
 something of petulant impatience in her 
 voice, "yon 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. Eos- 
 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 him- 
 self 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 was very
 
 108 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 inconsiderate. Pray take yoiu' own time 
 about that letter." 
 
 So site went away, and passed round to 
 the other side of the rocks, and came in 
 view of the small mnding harbour, 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 joyous- 
 ness 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 bm^ned along 
 the crests of the hills, on the golden fiu'ze, 
 the purple heather, and the deep-colom-ed
 
 THE LAST LOOK BACK. 109 
 
 rocks. The world seemed all ablaze up 
 there ; but down here, as she went by the 
 harbour and crossed over the bridge by the 
 mill, Eglosilyan lay pale and grey in the 
 hollow ; and even the great black wheel was 
 silent.
 
 110 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 CHAPTEE Y. 
 
 THROWING A FLY. 
 
 Harry Trelyon liad a cousin named Jnliott 
 Penalima, who lived at Penzance with her 
 father, an irascible old clergyman, who, 
 while yet a poor curate, had the good for- 
 tune 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, faii'ly 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, hked his cousin in a 
 way, as he showed by his rudeness to her ;
 
 THROWING A FLY. Ill 
 
 but he used plainly to tell her that he 
 would not marry her ; whereupon she would 
 be angry with him for his impertinence, 
 and end by begging him to be good friends 
 again. 
 
 At last she went, as her mother had 
 done before her, and encouraged the atten- 
 tions of a fair, blue-eyed, pensive young 
 curate, one who was full of beautiful 
 enthusiasms and idealisms, in which he 
 sought to interest the mind of this exceed- 
 ingly practical young woman, who liked 
 cHff-hunting, and had taught herseK 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 wi'ite, and she even showed some 
 sentiment in it. The reply, written in a 
 coarse, sprawHng, schoolboy hand, was as 
 follows :—
 
 112 THKEE FEATHERS. 
 
 *' Trelyon Hall, Monday Afteriwon, 
 
 ^^Dear Jue, 
 
 "All right. You're a fool to many 
 a parson. What would you like for a wed- 
 ding 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-spelhng. 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/' 
 
 Master Hany burst into a roar of 
 laughter when he received that letter;
 
 THROWING A FLY. 113 
 
 but, all the same, he could not get his 
 cousin to write him a line for months there- 
 after. Now, however, she had come to 
 visit some friends at Wadebridge ; and she 
 agreed to drive over and join Mrs. Trelyon's 
 Httle dinner-party, to which Mr. Eoscorla 
 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 ?" 
 
 TOL. r. I
 
 114 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 She drew back, offended ; and then she 
 looked at him, and shrugged her shoulders, 
 and gave him. her cheek to kiss. He was 
 only a boy, after all. 
 
 ^' Well, Harry, I am not going to quarrel 
 with you," she said, with a good-natm-ed 
 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 
 Penalu7ia, Iww are your dear Almonds and 
 Baisins? " 
 
 *'If I had given him a cut with my 
 whip, I should have made him dance," said 
 Miss Juhott, frankly ; '' then he would have 
 forgotten to tui'n out his toes. Harry, 
 go and see if that boy has taken in my 
 things."
 
 THKOWING A FLY. 115 
 
 *^ 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 direction ? " 
 
 ^^ 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 1 " 
 
 '' 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 become Mrs. Tressider!" said he, 
 with a rude laugh. ^* But I 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
 
 116 THEEE FEATHERS. 
 
 all sorts at this house — fat and lean, steeples 
 and beer-barrels, bandy-legged and knock- 
 kneed, whichever you like — you'U always 
 find an ample assortment on these elegant 
 premises. The stock is rather low just now, 
 — I think weVe only two or three ; but 
 you're supphed 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 grandmother, tell her she must sit 
 next me at dinner — if a parson sits next me, 
 I'U kiU 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 descending from heaven. 
 She came forward to her visitor with a smile
 
 THROWING A FLY. 117 
 
 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 noise- 
 lessly on, and went into a chamber at the 
 further 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 distance, and yet 
 filling the house with a melancholy and 
 slumberous 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 herseK 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 —
 
 118 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 and, most of all, in memory of her husband 
 Avhom she had really loved — resembled, in 
 some respects, the periods in which an 
 opium-eater resolves to give himseK up to 
 the strange and beautiful sensations beyond 
 which he can imagine no form of happiness ? 
 Mrs. Trelyon v/as nothing of a zealot or 
 devotee. She held no particular doctrines ; 
 she did not even countenance High Church 
 usages, except in so far as music and paint- 
 ing and dim rehgious lights aided her en- 
 deavours to produce a species of exalted 
 intoxication. She did not believe herself to 
 be a wicked sinner, and she could not under- 
 stand the earnest convictions and pro- 
 nounced theology 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 bhnd ecstasy she 
 had collected together in the private chapel 
 attached to Trelyon Hall. At this very
 
 THROWma A FLY. 119 
 
 moment she was seated there alone. The 
 last rays of the snn shone through narrow 
 windows of painted glass, and carried 
 beautiful colours with them into the dusk of 
 the curiously-furnished little building. She 
 herself sate before a large harmonium, and 
 there was a stain of rose-colour 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 
 vv^hite 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 mourning 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,
 
 120 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 and light-footed. She was not much of a 
 companion for the rude, impetuous, self- 
 willed hoy 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 sate 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 
 moustache; his face was grey and full of 
 lines ; his forehead was rather narrow ; and 
 his eyes were shrewd and watchful. But 
 for that occasional glance of the eyes, 
 you would have taken him for a very ordi- 
 nary, respectable, commonplace person, not
 
 THEOWING A FLY. 121 
 
 deserving of notice, except for the leugtli of 
 his coat. "When Master Harry saw him 
 approach, however, a diabohcal notion leapt 
 into the young gentleman'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 in front of the door just about the 
 height of a man's head. Would the Eev. 
 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. Tre- 
 lyon," he said, in grave and measured 
 accents, as he came up. 
 
 Harry Trelyon nodded, as he smoothed
 
 122 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 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 himself, 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 hke best is a 
 widow's mite. And now, I suppose, I must 
 go and dress for dinner; and don'fc I wish 
 I was going down to Mrs. Eosewarne's 
 parlour instead ! " 
 
 But another had secured a better right- 
 to go into Mrs. Eosewarne's parlour.
 
 ( 123 ) 
 
 CHAPTEK YI. 
 
 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. Eoscorla been so distinctly 
 and consciously happy. That forenoon, 
 when his anxiety had become almost dis- 
 tressing — ^partly because he honestly liked 
 Wenna Eosewarne 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, in- 
 genuous, and not- very-well-composed lines 
 and sentences, a great feeling of satisfac- 
 tion stole over him, and he thanked her
 
 124 THKEE FEATHERS. 
 
 a thousand times, in his heart, for having 
 ^iven him this rehef. 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 correspond- 
 ence better than a personal interview. 
 He sate down and wrote her a very kind 
 and even affectionate letter, telling her that 
 he would not intrude himself too soon upon 
 her, especially as he had to go up to 
 Trelyon Hall that evening ; and saying, 
 too, that, in any case, he could never ex- 
 pect to tell her how thankful he was to her. 
 That she would discover from his conduct 
 to her during their married life. 
 
 But, to his great surprise, Mr. Koscorla 
 found that; the writing and sending off of 
 that letter did not allay the extraordinary 
 nervous excitement that had laid hold of 
 him. He could not rest. He called in
 
 THE AMOXG THE TAILORS. 125 
 
 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 himseK staring at 
 them without seeing them. Then he went 
 back to his parlour 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 pre- 
 pared 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 
 Kosewarne to promise to be his wife. Had
 
 126 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 her parents advised her to marry a man 
 who could at least render her future safe ? 
 Or, had she taken pity on his loneUness, 
 and been moved by some hope of reform- 
 ing 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. Koscorla more 
 nearly approached the truth — that this shj^, 
 sensitive, self-distrustful girl had been so 
 surprised to find herself of any importance 
 to any one, and so grateful to him for his
 
 THE AMONG THE TAILOES. 127 
 
 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. 
 xVnd who could tell but that this present 
 feeling might lead to a still warmer feeling 
 imder the generous influence of a constant 
 kindness and appreciation? It was with 
 something of wonder and almost of dis- 
 may — and with a wholly new sense of his 
 own unworthiness — that Mr. Eoscorla found 
 himself regarding the possibihty of his win- 
 ning a young girl's first love. 
 
 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 grey 
 hair was changing to white ; but many 
 people considered white hair, with a hale
 
 128 THREE FEATHEES. 
 
 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 Kosewarne was not 
 also invited. He would not decorate him- 
 self for mere strangers and acquaintances. 
 
 He put on a light top-coat and went 
 out into the quiet summer 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 he walking 
 through twiht \yoods, 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 Kosewarne had been 
 of that party. 
 
 There were two or tkree children at 
 his gate — bright-cheeked, 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,
 
 THE AMONG THE TAILORS. 129 
 
 if Wenna had seen it, she would have heen 
 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 he put his hand in his pocket. The 
 others, finding 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 
 
 VOL. I. V
 
 loO THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 got halfway through the little garden again, 
 when he returned, and went to the door, 
 and called in to the children — 
 
 ** 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 
 lioped that some day, when he and Wenna 
 Eosewarne were passing, she would 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 Kosewarnes just then. 
 Moreover, his rapid walking was not to save 
 time, for he had plenty of that ; but to give
 
 THE AMONG THE TAILORS. 131 
 
 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 hut 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 hack. 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 himseK loung- 
 ing about Mrs. Eosewarne's parlour; and 
 he thought he might just as well give 
 Harry Trelyon a hint that Wenna Eose- 
 warne was engaged. An excellent oppor- 
 tunity 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
 
 132 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 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 JuHott should 
 appear. 
 
 ^'How do you do, Trelyon?" said Mr. 
 Eoscorla, in a friendly way ; and Harry 
 nodded. ^' I wish I could throw -a fly like 
 you. By-the-by, I have a Httle bit of 
 news for you — for yourself alone, mind." 
 
 ^^AIl right; fire away," said Master 
 Harry, still making the fine Kne of the 
 trout-rod whistle through the air. 
 
 *^Well, it is rather a dehcate matter, 
 you know. I don't want it talked about ; 
 but the fact is, I am going to marry Miss 
 Eosewarne." 
 
 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 
 ^aid —
 
 THE AMONG THE TAILOES. 133 
 
 ^^Miss Kosewarne? Wenna Kosewarne?" 
 
 *^Yes," said Mr. Koscorla, distinctly 
 conscious that Harry Trelyon was regarding 
 his white hair and general appearance. 
 
 The younger man said nothing more, 
 but began to whistle in an absent way ; and 
 then, just as if Mr. Eoscorla had no exist- 
 ence 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. Koscorla 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 
 something had occurred to put Master
 
 134 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 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 Pena- 
 luna, across the table, to Harry's grand- 
 mother, 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, uncon- 
 cernedly. *' How can you tell whether you 
 are thankful until you see what sort of 
 dinner it is ? And what's the use of keep- 
 ing a dog, and barking yourself? Ain't 
 there three parsons down there ? ' '
 
 THE AMONG THE TAILOKS. 135 
 
 Miss Jiiliott, being engaged to a clergy- 
 man, 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 clergy- 
 men ; and I never could find out any reason 
 for it, except when your grandfather hunted 
 poor Mr. Pascoe that night. Dear, dear 1 
 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.
 
 136 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 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 
 selling 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, look- 
 ing rather gloomy ; and, with that, the
 
 THE AMONG THE TAILOES. 137 
 
 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, blush- 
 ing slightly: 
 
 *' I heard you say something about lord- 
 ships of manors," he observed, addressing 
 himself rather to Trelyon's grandmother. 
 ^' 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 descendants abso- 
 lute 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 E evolutionary, who, 
 in the guise of a priest, dared to trifle with 
 the tenure of land ? Mr. Tressider was as 
 innocent of any such intention as the babe 
 unborn ; but he was confused by her look of
 
 138 THKEE FEATHERS. 
 
 astonishment, lie blushed more violently than 
 before, and only escaped from his embarrass- 
 ment by the good services of Miss Penaluna, 
 who turned the whole matter into ridicule, 
 and asked what Wilham 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 feU upon him. What 
 harm had the young clergyman, or any 
 other clergyman present, done him, that he 
 should have felt a sudden disHke to that 
 ingenuous smile ? 
 
 ** Oh no," said Trelyon, with a careless 
 impertinence; *^ WiUiam the Conqueror did 
 not aUow the rights of the lord of the 
 manor to extend right down to the middle 
 of the earth. There were a good many
 
 THE AMONG THE TAILORS. 139 
 
 clergymen about him; and they reserved 
 that district for their own purposes." 
 
 *^ 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 wiU be a clergyman " 
 
 ^* Worse luck for you," he observed, 
 fi'ankly, but so that no one could hear. 
 
 *' Harry," she said, ^' what do you mean 
 by your dishke to clergymen ?" 
 
 *^ Is that a conundrum?" said the 
 unregenerate youth. 
 
 For a moment, Miss Penaluna seemed 
 really vexed and angry; but she happened to 
 look at Master Harry, and, somehow, her 
 displeasure subsided into a look of good-
 
 140 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 natnred resignation. There was the least 
 little shrug of the shoulders ; and then she 
 turned to her neighbour on the right, and 
 began to talk about ponies. 
 
 It was certainly not a pleasant dinner- 
 party for those who sate near this young 
 gentleman, who was more outrageously 
 capricious that ever, except when address- 
 ing his grandmother, to whom he was 
 always courteous, and even roughly affec- 
 tionate. That old lady eyed him narrowly, 
 and could not quite make out what was the 
 matter. Had he been privately engaged in 
 some betting transaction that he should 
 want this money ? 
 
 When the ladies left the room, Trelyon 
 asked Mr. Roscorla 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. Eoscorla is 
 going to marry Wenna Rosewarne."
 
 THE AMONG THE TAILORS. 141 
 
 The tall, fair, pale lady did not seem 
 mnch startled by the news. She had very 
 little acquaintance with the affairs of the 
 village ; but she knew at least that the 
 Kosewarnes kept the inn, and she had, 
 every Sunday morning, seen Mrs. Kosewarne 
 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. Koscorla 
 to make," she observed. "I have always 
 considered him very fastidious, and rather 
 proud of his family. But some men take 
 strange fancies in choosing a wife." 
 
 ''Yes, and some women take precious 
 strange fancies in 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 Hsten to 
 the old fool — it is a monstrous shame, that's
 
 142 THKEE FEATHERS. 
 
 what I call it. I suppose he's frightened 
 the girl into it, or bought over her father, 
 or made himself a hypocrite, 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 con- 
 sider 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 iliean to give 
 her five thousand pounds, so that she shan't 
 come to that fellow in a dependent way, and 
 let him give himseK airs over her because 
 he's been born a gentleman." 
 
 '' Five thousand pounds ! " Mrs. Trelyon 
 repeated, wondering whether her son had 
 drank too much wine at dinner. 
 
 ** Well, but look here, mother," he said, 
 quite prepared for her astonishment. ^' You 
 know I've spent very Httle — I've never
 
 THE AMONG THE TAILOES. 143 
 
 spent anytliing 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 Eansome to it, 
 for he'll see it is not any bit of extrava- 
 gance 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 beheve 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 ? 
 What would they say of her ? " 
 
 He looked puzzled for a moment, as 
 though he did not understand her. It 
 was but for a moment. ^' If you mean 
 what one of those parsons would say of 
 her," he said, impetuously, while a sudden 
 flash of anger sprang to his face, " I don't
 
 144 THEEE FEATHERS. 
 
 care ; but my answer to it would be to kick 
 him round 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 going to marry a friend of 
 yours, why not? " 
 
 '^ Harry, you are most unreasonable — if 
 you will think it over for a moment, you 
 will see how this is impossible. If Mr. 
 Eoscorla 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
 
 THE AMONG THE TAILORS. 145 
 
 single out this girl from her family to 
 make her a friend ? I should have to 
 ask her parents and her sister to come 
 here also, unless you wish her to come 
 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 finished — 
 
 " You could do it very well, if you liked. 
 When a woman is willing she can always 
 smooth matters down." 
 
 Mrs. Trelyon flushed shghtly, and said, 
 with clear emphasis : 
 
 '' 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 ^ye thousand pounds ? " 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 THREE FEATHEES. 
 
 ^^ I will not. I will not countenance any 
 snch folly." 
 
 ^' Then I shall have to raise the money 
 myself." 
 
 He rang a hell, and a servant appeared. 
 
 ^' Tell Jakes to saddle Dick and bring 
 him round directly." 
 
 His mother let him have his own way, 
 without word or question ; for she was 
 deeply offended, and her feeble and sensi- 
 tive 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. Hany Trelyon 
 buttoned up the collar of his light top-
 
 THE AMONG THE TAILORS. 147 
 
 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 after- 
 wards, and then to the devil ! "
 
 148 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 CHAPTEE YII. 
 
 SOME NEW EXPERIENCES. 
 
 When the first shock of fear and anxiety 
 was over, Wenna Eosewarne discovered to 
 her great delight that her engagement was 
 a very pleasant thing. The ominous douhts 
 and regrets that had beset her mind when 
 she was asked to become Mr. Eoscorla's 
 wife seemed to disappear hke clouds from 
 a morning sky ; and then followed a fair 
 and happy day, fall of abundant satisfaction 
 and calm. ^\'ith much inward 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 mar- 
 ried woman. Although the engagement
 
 SOME NEW EXPERIENCES. 149 
 
 was kept a profound secret, the mere con- 
 sciousness 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 de- 
 spondent 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. Koscorla. 
 
 There was hut one dissentient, and 
 that was Mabyn Eosewarne, 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 engagement by this 
 designing old man ; and the poor weak 
 sister was vastly amused by her compas- 
 sion, and was too good-natured to laugh
 
 150 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 at the valiant protection which this cou- 
 rageous young creature of sixteen offered 
 her. Wenna let her sister say what she 
 pleased about herself or her future, and used 
 no other argument to stop angry words 
 than a kiss, so long as Mabyn spoke re- 
 spectfully of Mr. Koscorla. 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 her- 
 self up, and leaving the room. Then 
 Mabyn would follow, and make up the 
 quarrel, and promise never to offend 
 again ; but all the same she cherished a 
 deadly animosity towards Mr. Eoscorla in 
 her heart, and, when her sister was not 
 present, she amused her father and shocked 
 her mother by giving a series of imita- 
 tions of Mr. Koscorla' s manner which that 
 gentleman would scarcely like to have seen. 
 The young lady, however, soon invented
 
 SOME NEW EXPEIUEXCES. 151 
 
 Avliat she considered a far more effectual 
 means of revenging lierseK on Mr. Eoscorla. 
 She never left Wenna's side. No sooner did 
 the elder 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. Eoscorla never by any chance went 
 walking with Wenna Eosewarne alone ; and 
 the younger sister — ^herseh too sulky to 
 enter into conversation with him — used to 
 enjoy the mahcious 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
 
 152 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 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 hke a 
 watch-dog, that no one should come near 
 them, and I should be as proud of him as 
 Wenna herseK ; 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 tlie 
 constant companion of her sister, she was 
 affording this dire enemy of hers a vast 
 amount of relief. Mr. Roscorla was iii every
 
 SOME NEW EXPERIENCES. 153 
 
 way satisfied with his engagement ; the 
 more he saw of Wenna Kosewarne, the more 
 he admired her utter self-forgetfulness, and 
 hked a quaint and shy sort of humour that 
 interfused her talk and her ways ; hut he 
 greatly preferred not to be alone with her. 
 He was then beset by some vague impres- 
 sion that certain things were demanded of 
 him, in the character of a lover, which were 
 exceedingly embarrassing ; and which, if he 
 did not act the part well, might awaken her 
 ridicule. On the other hand, if he omitted 
 all those things, might she not be surprised 
 by his lack of affection, begin to suspect 
 him, and end by dishking him ? Yet he 
 knew that not for ten thousand worlds could 
 he muster up courage to repeat one hne of 
 sentimental poetry to her. 
 
 As yet he had never even had the 
 corn-age 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
 
 154 • THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 give lier some such mark of affection — say, 
 in bidding her good-night; and thereupon 
 Mr. Boscorla would resolve that, as he left 
 the inn that evening, he would endeavour to 
 kiss his future bride. He never succeeded. 
 Somehow Wenna always parted from him in 
 a merry mood. These were pleasant even- 
 ings in Mrs. Eosewarne's parlour ; 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 jocular 
 ploughboy. 
 
 He had kissed her hand once. That was 
 on his first meeting her after she had written 
 the letter in which she promised to be his 
 wife, and Mrs. Eosewarne had sent him into 
 the room where she knew her daughter was 
 alone. Wenna rose up to meet him, pale, 
 frightened, mth her eyes downcast. He
 
 SOME NEW EXPEKIENCES. 155 
 
 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 hegan 
 to tremhle violently. He asked her to sit 
 down, and begged of her not to be disturbed. 
 She was recalled to herseK 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 dihgent when a visitor was 
 present. She saw, too, that Wenna's 
 fingers trembled. Then she remained in 
 the room until Mr. Koscorla went, sitting 
 by a window and not overhearing their
 
 156 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 conversation, but very mncli inclined to 
 break in upon it by asking liim bow be 
 dared to come tbere and propose to marry 
 ber sister Wenna. 
 
 '' Ob, Wenna," sbe said, one evening 
 some time after, wben tbe two sisters were 
 sitting out on tbe rocks at tbe end of tbe 
 barbour, watcbing tbe sun go down bebind 
 tbe sea, '' I cannot bear bim coming to take 
 you away Hke tbat. I sboukln't mind if be 
 were like a sweetbeart to you ; but lie's a 
 multiplication- table sort of Sweetbeart — 
 everytbing so regular, and accurate, and 
 proper. I bate a man wbo always tbinks 
 wbat be's going to say, and always bas neat 
 sentences ; and be watcbes you, and is so 
 self-satisfied, and his information is always 
 so correct. Ob, Wenna, I wisb you bad a 
 young and beautiful loyer, like a Prince ! " 
 
 '^ My dear cbild," said tbe elder sister, 
 witb a smile, "young and beautiful lovers 
 are for young and beautiful girls, like you."
 
 SOME NEW EXPERIENCES. 157 
 
 "Oh, Wenua, how cau you talk Hke 
 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 any- 
 body in all the world has such beautiful and 
 soft eyes as you — you ask anybody and they 
 will tell you, if you don't beheve me. But 
 I have no doubt — I have no doubt whatever 
 — that Mr. Koscorla will try to make you 
 believe , you are very ugly, so that you 
 mayn't thinly 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. Koscorla. You are continually accusing 
 him of things of which he never dreams. 
 Now he never gets a chance that he does
 
 158 THKEE FEATHERS. 
 
 not try to praise me in every way, and if 
 there were no looking-glasses in tlie 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 become 
 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 beheve 
 anything." 
 
 " He does not try to make me beheve 
 anything I don't know already," said the 
 elder sister, with some asperity. 
 
 " He tries to make you beheve he is in 
 love with you," said Mabyn, bluntly. 
 
 Wenna Eosewame coloured up, and was 
 silent for a minute. How was she to 
 explain to this sister of hers all those
 
 SOME NEW EXPERIENCES. 159 
 
 theories wMcli Mr. Eoscorla had described 
 to her in his first 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, Mabyn, 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 lasting. 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
 
 160 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 whose affection will last through years and 
 years." 
 
 *' You have learnt your lesson very weU," 
 said Miss Mabyn, with a toss of her head. 
 '' He has spent some time in teaching you. 
 But as for aU 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. Eoscorla " 
 
 *^ I do not think we are Hkely to agree 
 on this matter, dear," said Wenna, calmly, 
 as she rose, ^^ and so we had better say 
 nothing about it." 
 
 ^*0h, I am not going to quarrel with 
 you, Wenna," said the younger sister, 
 promptly. *'You and I will always agree 
 very weU. It is Mr. Eoscorla and I who 
 are not likely to agree very weU — not at aU 
 likely, I can assure you." 
 
 They were walking back to Eglosilyan, 
 under the clear evening skies, when whom
 
 SOME NEW EXPERIENCES. 161 
 
 should they see coming out to meet them 
 but Mr. Koscoiia himself. It was a pleasant 
 time and place for lovers to come together. 
 The warm hght left by the sunset still 
 shone across the hills ; the clear blue-green 
 water in the tiny harbour lay perfectly still ; 
 Eglosilyan had got its day's work over, and 
 was either chatting in the cottage gardens 
 or strolling down to have a look at the 
 couple of coasters moored behind the small 
 but powerful breakwater. But Mr. Koscorla 
 had had no hope of discovering 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 colour 
 to Mr. Koscorla's face? Wenna felt that 
 she was better satisfied with her engage- 
 ment when her lover was not present; but 
 she put that down to a natural shyness and 
 
 TOL. I. M
 
 162 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 modesty wMch she considered was probably 
 common to all gMs in these strange cir- 
 cumstances. 
 
 Mr. Koscorla wished to convoy the two 
 young ladies back to the inn, and evidently 
 meant to spend the evening there. But 
 Miss Wenna ill requited his gallantly by 
 informing him that she had intended to 
 make one or two calls in the evening, which 
 would occupy some time : in particular, she 
 had undertaken to do something for Mrs. 
 Luke's eldest gui; and she had also pro- 
 mised 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. Eoscorla," said 
 Mabyn, with a bitter maUce, *' 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,
 
 SOME NEW EXPERIENCES. 163 
 
 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 
 pohtics, 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 haK an hour to helping her in her 
 occupations, especially if she be tired. 
 Wenna could not have made the request 
 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.
 
 164 THEEE FEATHERS. 
 
 CHAPTEK VIII. 
 
 WENNA'S FIRST TRIUMPH. 
 
 The two girls, as they went np the main 
 street of Eglosilyan (it was sweet with the 
 scent of flowers on this beautiful evening), 
 left Mr. Eoscorla in front of the obscure 
 Httle pubHc-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 his 
 brother-in-law, so far as their names went, 
 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
 
 WENNA'S FIKST TEIUMPH. 165 
 
 debating society was nightly held by the 
 habitices. But, all the same, he would do 
 what he had undertaken to do, for Wenna 
 Kosewarne's sake; and it was with some 
 sensation of a despairing 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 fire- 
 place, and heavy rafters across the roof; 
 but all round 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 
 labourers, 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 was, a fire burned flickeringly
 
 166 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 in the grate ; there was enough Hght to show 
 the tin and copper vessels shining over the 
 high mantelpiece ; and a couple of fair- 
 haired children were playing about the 
 middle of the floor, Kttle heeding the row of 
 dusky figures around the tables, whose heads 
 were half hidden by tobacco-smoke. 
 
 A tall, thin, fresh-coloui^ed woman came 
 along the passage ; and Mr. Koscorla was 
 glad that he had not to go in among these 
 labourers 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 Tvdth those cruelly shrewd and clear eyes 
 that the Cornish peasantry have. 
 
 " I called in to see Mr. Keam," said he. 
 ^^s he much better?" 
 
 '^ If yii'd hke vor to see 'n, zor," said she, 
 rather slowly, as if waiting for further
 
 wenna's first triumph. 167 
 
 explanation, "yii'Uvind 'n in the flim " — 
 and with that she opened the door of a room 
 on the other side of the passage. It was 
 obviously the private parlour of the house- 
 hold — an odd httle chamber with plenty of 
 coloured lithographs on the walls, and china 
 and photographs on the mantelpiece ; tlife 
 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 luxury. 
 The room had one occupant — a tall man 
 wiio sate 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 
 resignation 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
 
 168 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 brisk cheerfulness strangely in contrast with 
 the worn look of his face. 
 
 ''Don't yti knaw Mr. Koscorla, brother 
 Nicholas ? " said his sister. '' Don't yli look 
 mazed, when he's come vor to zee if yti're 
 better. And yti be much better to-day, 
 ^'other Nicholas?" 
 
 '' Yes, I think," said the sick man, 
 agreeing with his sister out of mere hst- 
 lessness. 
 
 '' Oh yes, I think you look much better," 
 said Mr. Eoscorla, hastily and nervously, 
 for he feared that both these people w^ould 
 see in his face w^hat 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 awkw^ard pause ensued. Mr. 
 Koscorla felt convinced they would think he 
 was mad if he offered to sit down in this
 
 wenna's first teiumph. 169 
 
 parlour and read the newspapers to the 
 invaHd; he forgot that they did not know 
 him as well as he did himself. On the other 
 hand, would they not consider him a silly 
 person if he admitted that he only made the 
 offer in order to please a girl ? Besides, he ^ 
 could see no newspapers in the room. |p 
 Fortunately, at this moment, Mr. Keam 
 himseK came to the rescue by saying, in a 
 slow and languid way — 
 
 '' I did expect vor to zee Miss Eosewarne 
 this evenin' — yaas, I did; and she were to 
 read me the news ; but I suppose now " 
 
 *'0h!" said Mr. Eoscorla, quickly, '^ I 
 have -just seen Miss Eosewarne — 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 Hght lasts." 
 
 *'Why don't yli thank the gentleman, 
 brother Nicholas ? " said Mrs. Haigh, who 
 was apparently most anxious to get away to 
 her duties. '' That be very kind of yli, zor.
 
 < 
 
 170 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 ' Tis a great comfort to 'n to hear the news ; 
 and I'll send yii in the papers to once. Yli 
 come away with me, Eosana, and yii can 
 come agwain and bring the gentleman the 
 newspapers." 
 
 She dragged off with her a small girl who 
 had wandered in ; and Mr. Eoscorla was 
 left alone with the sick man. The feehngs 
 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 newspapers. He began to read; she 
 sate down before him and stared up into 
 his face. Then a brother of hers came 
 in, and he, too, sate down, and proceeded 
 to stare. Mr. Eoscorla inwardly began to 
 draw pictures of the astonishment of cer- 
 tain of his old acquaintances if they had 
 suddenly opened that small door, and found 
 him, in the parlour of an ale-house, read- 
 ing stale political articles to an apparently
 
 wenka's first teiumph. 171 
 
 uninterested invalid and a conple of cottage 
 children. 
 
 He was thankful that the light was 
 rapidly decHning ; and long before he had 
 reached the half-hour he made that his 
 excuse for going. 
 
 ^' The next time I come, Mr. Keam/* 
 said he, cheerfully, as he rose and took his 
 hat, ^' I shall come earher." 
 
 '^ I did expect vor to zee Miss Eose- 
 warne this evenin','' said Nicholas Keam, 
 ungratefully paying no heed to the hypo- 
 critical offer ; '' vor she were here yester- 
 day marnin', and she told me that Mr. 
 Treylon had zeen my brother in London 
 streets, and I want vor to know mower 
 about 'n, I du." 
 
 ''She told you?" Mr. Koscorla said, 
 with a sudden and wild suspicion fiUing 
 his mind. '' How did she know that Mr. 
 Treylon was in London ? " 
 
 ^' How did she knaw?" repeated the
 
 172 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 sick mau, indolently. ^' Why, he zaid zo 
 in the letter." 
 
 So Mr. Treylon, whose whereabouts 
 were not even known to his own family, 
 was in correspondence mth Miss Eose- 
 warne, and she had carefully concealed 
 the fact from the man she was going to 
 marry. Mr. Eoscorla rather absently took 
 his leave. When he went outside a clear 
 twihght was shining over Eglosilyan, and 
 the first of the yellow stars were palely 
 visible in the grey. He walked slowly 
 down towards the inn. 
 
 If Mr. Eoscorla had any conviction on 
 any subject whatever, it was this — that 
 no human being ever thoroughly and with- 
 out 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 theory — himself; he merely
 
 wenna's fiest triumph. 178 
 
 accepted this thing as one of the facts 
 of Hfe. People, he considered, might be 
 fairly honest, well-intentioned, and moral ; 
 but inside the circle of their actions and 
 sentiments that were openly declared there 
 was another circle only known to them- 
 selves ; and to this region the foul bird of 
 suspicion, as soon as it was born, imme- 
 diately fled on silent wings. Not that, 
 after a minute's consideration, 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 Httle angry, 
 and wondered how this apparently ingenuous 
 creature should have concealed from him 
 her correspondence with Harry Treylon, 
 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 im- 
 pertinent lad.
 
 174 THEEE FEATHERS. 
 
 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. Some- 
 how, when he heard her low and sweet 
 laughter, and saw the frank kindness of 
 her dark eyes, he abandoned the gloomy 
 suspicions that had crossed his mind; but 
 he still considered that he had been in- 
 jured, and that the injury was all the greater 
 in that he had just been persuaded into 
 making a fool of himself for Wenna Eose- 
 warne's sake. 
 
 He said nothing to her then, of course ; 
 and, as the evening passed cheerfully 
 enough in Mrs. Eosewarne's parlour, 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, imtil George Eosewarne roared
 
 WENNA'S first TRIUMrH. 175 
 
 mth laughter ; she listened with respectful 
 eyes and attentive ears when Mr. Eoscorla 
 pronounced an opinion on the affahs of 
 the day; and she dexterously cut rolls of 
 paper and dressed up her sister Mabyn to 
 represent a lady of the time of EHzabeth, 
 to the admiration of everybody. Mr. Eos- 
 corla had inwardly to confess that he had 
 secured for himself a most charming and 
 dehghtful wife, who would make a wonder- 
 ful difference in those dull evenings up 
 at Basset Cottage. 
 
 He only haK guessed the origki 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 
 relations in findmg Mr. Eoscorla ready to go 
 and perform acts of charity. But for her 
 engagement, that would certamly not have 
 happened; and this, she beheved, was but 
 the auspicious beginning. Of course Mr. 
 Eoscorla would have laughed if she had
 
 176 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 informed him of her behef that the re- 
 generation of the whole httle world of 
 Eglosilyan — something like the Millennium, 
 indeed — was to come about merely because 
 an innkeeper's daughter was about to be 
 made a married woman. Wenna Kose- 
 warne, however, did not formulate any such 
 behef; but she was none the less proud of 
 the great results that had already been 
 secured by — by what ? By her sacrifice 
 of herself ? She did not pursue the subject 
 so far. 
 
 ^Her dehght was infectious. Mr. Kos- 
 corla, as he walked home that night — imder 
 the throbbing starhght, with the sound of 
 the Atlantic murmuring through the dark- 
 ness — was, on the whole, rather pleased 
 that he had been vexed on hearing of that 
 letter from Harry Trelyon. He would 
 continue to be vexed. He would endeavour 
 to be jealous without measure ; for how can 
 jealousy exist if an anxious love is not also
 
 WENNA'S first TPtlUMPH. 177 
 
 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 
 affections ! By the time he reached Basset 
 Cottage, Mr. Koscorla had very neaiiy 
 persuaded himself into the belief that he 
 was really in love with Wenna Eosewarne. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 178 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 • CHAPTEK IX. 
 
 THE RING OF EVIL OMEN. 
 
 One of Wenna's many friends outside the 
 village in wMch she hved 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, light-haired, and large-eyed 
 animals — that struggled up the rude and 
 steep XDath 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 nob much more
 
 THE RING OF EVIL OMEN". 179 
 
 than cover the keep of the donkeys. He 
 seldom spoke to any human heing ; 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 round the precipitous coast, and that 
 nothing would remain but the long chmb up 
 again? 
 
 Wenna Kosewarne had some pity for 
 this sohtary wretch, who toiled at his task 
 with the melancholy Atlantic before him, 
 and behind him a great and lonely wall 
 of crumbhng slat6 ; 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 guis had little fear of 
 the fatigue of descending the path down
 
 180 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 the side of the steep cHff; and the object 
 of their visit used to he highly pleased and 
 flattered by their coming to chat with him 
 for a few minutes. He would hasten the 
 filhng of his hags so as to ascend again with 
 them, and, in a strange tongue that even 
 the two Cornish girls could not always 
 understand, he would talk to them of the 
 merits of his favourite donkeys, of their 
 willingness, and strength, and docihty. 
 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. 
 Eoscorla 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
 
 THE RING OF EVIL OMEN. 181 
 
 of it. Moreover, this was another mission 
 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 w^ould not induce him again 
 to visit Mr. Keam — he was anxious that 
 Wenna should helieve that he still remained 
 her pupil. So, with a good grace, he went 
 down the tortuous pathway to the desolate 
 little hay where the sand-carrier was at 
 w^ork. 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 ahout 
 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 gaiTulous hunch- 
 back jabbered in his guttural way for 
 another hour. Then he had the pleasure 
 of cHmbing up the cHff again, with a whole 
 troop of donkeys going before him in Indian
 
 182 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 file up the narrow and zig-zag path, and at 
 last he reached the summit. His second 
 effort in the way of charity had been 
 accomphshed. 
 
 He proposed that the young ladies 
 should sit down to rest for a few 
 minutes, after the donkeys and then driver 
 had departed; 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 morn- 
 ing. The sea was ruffled into a dark blue 
 where it neared the horizon; but closer 
 at hand it v/as pale and still. The sun 
 was hot on the bleak pastm-e-land. There 
 was a scent of fern and wild thyme in 
 the air. 
 
 "By the way, Wenna," said Mr. 
 Koscorla, "I wonder you have never asked 
 me why I have not yet got you an engaged 
 
 " Wenna does not want an engaged
 
 THE EING OF EVIL OMEN. 183 
 
 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. 
 Eoscorla had not yet spoken of a ring to 
 Wenna, Mabyn had; and Mabyn had be- 
 sought of her sister not to accept this 
 s}Tnbol 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 for ever." 
 
 "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
 
 184 THEEE FEATHEES. 
 
 with a kiss, and not caring to raise a 
 quarrel. 
 
 Well, when Mr. Koscorla was suddenly 
 confronted by this statement, he was 
 startled ; bufc he inwardly resolved that, as 
 soon as he and Wenna were married, he 
 would soon 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 you 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 dutifully. '^ I am sure to like 
 whatever you choose." 
 
 ''But what do you prefer yourself?" he 
 again said.
 
 THE-PJXG OF EVIL OMEN. 185 
 
 Wenna liesitated, but Miss Malbyn did 
 not. She was ]3rex)ared for the crisis. She 
 had foreseen it. 
 
 ''Oh, Mr. Koscorla," she said (and you 
 would not have fancied 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. Eoscorla was very near teUing 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 thinlv they are very pretty," Wenna 
 replied, meekly. ''I am sure I shall hke 
 any ring you choose." 
 
 " Oh, very well," said he, rather discon- 
 tented that she w^ould show no preference. 
 *' I shall get you an emerald ring." 
 
 When she heard this decision, the heart 
 of Mabyn Eosewarne was filled with an
 
 186 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 unholy joy. This was the rhyme that was 
 running through her head : — 
 
 '^^Silib> ^^^^ greeii'sforsaJcen, 
 
 And yellow'' s forsworn^ 
 And bluets the sweetest 
 Colour that's ivorii ! 
 
 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 he called 
 natural religion in this young lady, to dis- 
 tinguish 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, imnameable, undefinable, 
 but ever present and ever active. If faiidy 
 challenged, she might have scrupled to say 
 that she believed in Browneys, or the Small 
 People, or in any one of the thousand 
 superstitions of the Cornish peasantry. 
 But she faithfully observed these super- 
 stitions. If her less heedful sister put a cut 
 loaf upside dovm on the plate, Mabyn would
 
 THE RING OF EVIL OMEN. 187 
 
 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. Eoscorla gave Wenna 
 a ring of emeralds, Mr. Koscorla would 
 never marry her. 
 
 One thing puzzled her, however. 
 Which of the two was to be the forsaken ? 
 Was it Wenna or Mr. Eoscorla who would 
 break this engagement that the younger 
 sister had set her heart against ? Well, she 
 would not have been sorry if Mr. Eoscorla 
 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
 
 188 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 Mr. Eoscoiia was aware lie liad 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 sl*Le 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 answered — 
 
 Oh, greeii^s forsaken, 
 And yellow's fwsivorn, 
 And Hue's the sweetest 
 Colour that's luorn ! 
 
 But Wenna was othermse engaged during 
 this homeward walk. Mr. Eoscorla, 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 suspicions it pro-
 
 THE lilKG OF EVIL OMEN. 189 
 
 voked, aud trying to persuade himself that 
 as he was in some measure jealous he must 
 in some measure be m 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 thoughtless ! Doesn't his mother 
 know ? Do you think she would hke to 
 know?"
 
 190 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 ^' Well," said he, witli marked coldness, 
 ^' doubtless she would be surprised at his 
 having communicated Vvith you in pre- 
 ference to any one else." 
 
 Wenna's soft dark eyes were turned up 
 to his face with a sudden look of astonish- 
 ment. He had never spoken to her in this 
 way before. She could not understand. 
 And then she said, very quickly, and with 
 a sudden flush of colour 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 per- 
 tm'bed — 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
 
 THE PtlKG OF EVIL OMEN. 191 
 
 of paper, and a conteniptuons smile passed 
 over his face. 
 
 ^^ He writes with, more care to you than 
 to other people ; hut I can't say much for 
 his handwriting at the best." 
 
 Wenna coloured, and said nothing ; but 
 Mabyn remarked, rather warmly — 
 
 ^' I don't think a man need try to write 
 like a dancing-master, if he means what he 
 says, and can teU you that frankly.'* 
 
 Mr. Eoscorla did not heed this remark- 
 ably incoherent speech, for he was reading 
 the letter, which ran as follows : — 
 
 " Nolan's Hotel, London, July 30, 18—. 
 
 *^ Deae Miss Eosewarne, 
 
 ** I know you would Hke to have 
 Kock, 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 shaU be very 
 pleased if you will accept him as a present 
 from me. Either Luke or your father wiU
 
 192 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 tell yoii how to feed him ; and I am sure 
 you will be kind to him, and not chain him 
 up, and give him plenty of exersise. I 
 hope you are all well at the Inn, and that 
 Mabyn's pigeons have not flowne aw^ay. 
 Tell her not to forget the piece of look- 
 ing-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. Eoscorla handed 
 back the letter with scarcely a word, leav- 
 ing Wenna to puzzle over what had hap- 
 pened to make him look at her in that 
 strange w^ay. As for Miss Mab}Ti, that 
 young lady would say nothing to hurt her 
 sister's feehngs ; but she said many a bitter
 
 THE RING OF EVIL OMEN. 193 
 
 thing to herself about the character of a 
 gentleman who would read another gentle- 
 man'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 re- 
 flection — ^^ green's forsaken, and yellow's 
 forsworn ! " 
 
 And so Mr. Koscorla was going away 
 from Eglosilyan for a time, and Wenna 
 would be left alone. 
 
 Certainly, if this brief separation pro- 
 mised 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 recovered her 
 cheerfalness, and was in very good spirits 
 indeed when the small party reached Eglo- 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 194 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 silyan. And liere was a small and sun- 
 burnt 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 ? " 
 
 ^' 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 
 yom- brothers and sisters ? Well, say ' How 
 do you do ? ' to the gentleman. Don't you 
 know Penny Luke, Mr. Eoscorla ? " 
 
 '' I believe I have that honour," said 
 Mr. Eoscorla, 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,
 
 THE EING OF EVIL OMEN. 195 
 
 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. Eoscorla, who would not him- 
 self have attempted that feat of skill and 
 dexterity, ^' and you must make his ac- 
 quaintance. He is a very good hoy on the 
 whole, but sometimes he goes near to break- 
 ing my heart. I shall have to give him up, 
 and take another sweetheart, if he doesn't 
 mind. He ivill eat with his fingers, and he 
 will run out and get among horses' feet ; and 
 as for the way he conducts himseK 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 
 inn, where, doubtless, he received all the 
 petting and other good things he had been 
 shrewdly expecting.
 
 196 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 Mabyn said lier prayers tliat night in 
 tlie ordinaiy and formal fashion. She 
 prayed for her father and mother and for 
 her sister Wenna, as she had been tanght ; 
 and she added in the Princess of Wales on 
 her own account, because she hked her 
 pretty face. She also prayed that she her- 
 self should be made humble and good, 
 desirous of serving her fellow- creatures, and 
 charitable to every one. All this was done 
 in due order. 
 
 But in point of fact her heart was at 
 that moment far fi'om being meek and 
 charitable; it was, on the contrary, filled 
 with bitterness and indignation. And the 
 real cry of her soul, nri "known to herself, 
 went out to all the vague, imaginative 
 powers of magic and witchcraft — to the 
 mysterious influences 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,
 
 THE rixCt of evil omex. 197 
 
 and to them that she appealed, Tvith a 
 yeaming far too great for words or even for 
 tears. When she was but a child placing 
 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 ^illage with the news. 
 Afterwards she was told that on the hand of 
 the corpse a ring with a green stone in it 
 was found ; and then she heard for the fii-st , 
 time the rhyme that had never since left 
 her memoiy. She certainly did not wish 
 that Mr. Eoscorla should die; but she as 
 certainly wished that her sister Wenna 
 should be saved fi*om becoming his wife ; 
 and she reflected with a fierce satisfaction 
 that it was she who had driven him to 
 promise that Wenna' s engaged ring should 
 be composed of those fatal stones.
 
 198 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 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 — very different from that 
 which came in at night from the sea to the 
 gardens and cottages of Egiosilyan. He 
 drove down through these hot and crowded 
 streets to an hotel near Charing Cross — an 
 old-fashioned Httle jDlace much frequented
 
 THE SNARES OF LONDON. 199 
 
 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, how- 
 ever, the place was chiefly tenanted by a 
 few country gentlemen and a clergyman or 
 two, who had small sitting-rooms, in which 
 they dined with their famiHes, and in which 
 they drank a glass of something hot before 
 going to bed at night after coming home 
 from the theatre. 
 
 Harry Trelyon was famiUar with the 
 place, and its ways, and the traditions of 
 his father and grandfather having invariably 
 come to it; and, following in their foot- 
 steps, he, too, obtained a private sitting- 
 room as well as a bed-room, 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
 
 200 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 claret; and it was served in a fairly-sized, 
 old-fashioned, dimly-lit room, the furnitui'e 
 of wliicli was of that very substantial 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, m a rough shooting suit, was stretched 
 out at full length in an easy- chair ; and, in 
 answering 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 yom* gi-and- 
 father, 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, showing his familiarity
 
 • THE SNARES OF LONDON. 201 
 
 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 imcon- 
 scionsly falling into something like the 
 provincial accent of his yonth, ^^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 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 in- 
 side, then he turns, and there was a word
 
 202 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 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 ; ' 
 bnt 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 do\vn, su', 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 beheve 
 it!" 
 
 ^^Oh, can't I, though?" Master Harry 
 said, with a roar of laughter. ''Don't you
 
 THE SNAEES OF LOXDOX. 203 
 
 make any mistake. I say, what did you say 
 your name was ?" 
 
 '^ My name, sir," said the old man, sud- 
 denly sinking from the epic heights which 
 had lent a sort of inspiration to his face, 
 down to the ordinary chastened and re- 
 spectful bearing of a waiter, ^* my name, sir, 
 in the hotel is Charles ; but your good 
 father, sir, he knowed my name, which is 
 Tomhns, sir." 
 
 ** Well, look here, Tomlins," the boy 
 said, '' you go and ask the landlady to give 
 you a hohday 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
 
 204 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 come of age, I mean to build a house there 
 for myself. No, I thmk I shall have rooms 
 in London — anyhow, I'll give you j£100 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 1 " said Trelyon to 
 himself, when the 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 witness for my father. Well, 
 he shan't suffer for that." 
 
 Master Harry finished his steak and his 
 pint of claret; then he Ht a cigar, got 
 into a hansom, and drove up to a street 
 in Seven Dials, where he at length dis- 
 covered a certain shop. The shutters were 
 on the windows, and a stout old lady was 
 taking in fi'om the door the last of the
 
 THE SNARES OF LONDON. 205 
 
 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 Ht inside by a soHtary 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 bkd 
 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 hue of busi- 
 ness." 
 
 "Well, I'd advise you to get somebody 
 else next time to stuff for you. However,
 
 206 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 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 con- 
 ducted 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 pla®e — at the further 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, parroquets and cockatoos 
 opened their sleepy eyes and mechanically 
 repeated '' Pretty PoUy ! " and '' Good 
 night! good night!" Even the rabbits 
 stared solemnly from behind the bars. 
 
 '* What have you got there ? " said 
 Trelyon to his guide, pointing to a railway
 
 THE SNARES OF LONDON. 207 
 
 milk-can whicli stood in tlie corner, nearly 
 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 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 in there 
 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 weU 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
 
 208 THKEE FEATHERS. 
 
 into the rockwork of my aviary, and there 
 he hved 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 downstairs ; 
 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 further than Battersea 
 Keaches. 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
 
 THE SNARES OF LONDON. 209 
 
 eleven o'clock, lie found himself the owner 
 of about as much property as would have 
 filled two cabs. He went upstairs, dis- 
 missed 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 ten- 
 derly upstairs. Thus ended his first even- 
 ing 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 several 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 wide-awake on. They 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 210 THKEE FEATHERS. 
 
 would do it, tiLOugh, if you presented your- 
 self ; and they would ask you to lunch or to 
 tea in the afternoon. Then you'd find your- 
 self among a lot of girls, all with their 
 young 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 hom- 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 round 
 with the man, and had an interesting 
 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
 
 THE SNAllES OF LONDON. 211 
 
 superfluous Z^'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 hahits, you know. But 
 you get somehody 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. 
 
 '' Yes I should think you could," he said, 
 bhmtly. '' 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 American bowling-alley, in 
 the neighbom'hood of Covent Garden, a 
 highly respectable place to which gentle- 
 men resorted for the purpose of playing a re- 
 fined soi-t of skittles. Master Harry merely 
 wanted to practise, and also to stretch his
 
 212 • THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 arms and legs. He had just begun, how- 
 ever, to send the big balls crashing into the 
 pins at the further end of the long 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 bob?" says the 
 stranger. 
 
 ^' Do you mean two shillings ? " asks the 
 young man, calmly looking down upon the 
 person with the red face; for, of course^ 
 Harry Trelyon never used slang. 
 
 "Yes," said the other, with much in- 
 difference, as he selected 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 
 stranger. 
 
 "No," said the young man ; "I'mgoing,'^
 
 THE SNARES OF LONDON. 213 
 
 Well, this did not at all seem to suit ids 
 opponent, wiio 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 suddenly — 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 you 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, ht 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 TattersaU's, 
 examining new breechloaders in shops in
 
 214 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 St. James's Street, pui'cliasiDg ingenuities in 
 fishing-tackle, and very frequently feeding^ 
 the ducks in the Serpentine with bread 
 bought of the boys standing round. It was 
 not a very lively sort of existence, he found. 
 Colonel Kansome had left for Scotland on 
 the very day before his arrival in London, so 
 that peaceable and orderly means of getting- 
 that dowiy for Wenna Eosewarne 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 imtil he 
 was driven to that. Colonel Eansome, 
 moreover, had left his constituents un- 
 represented in the House during the last 
 few days of the session, and had quietly 
 gone off to Scotland for the 12th, so that 
 it was impossible to say when he might 
 return. Meanwhile young Trelyon made 
 the acquaintance of whatever birds, beasts, 
 and fishes he could find in London, until he 
 got a little tired.
 
 THE SNAKES OF LONDON. 215 
 
 All of a sudden it struck him one even- 
 ing, as a happy relief, that he would sit 
 down and write to Wenna Kosewarne. He 
 ordered in pens, ink, and paper with much 
 solemnity; and then he said to the old 
 waiter, ^^ Tomlins, how do you spell * re- 
 triever'?" 
 
 " 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 labour 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. Mr. Eoscorla noticed 
 at once the pains he had taken with the 
 writing. 
 
 Then in due course came the answer ; 
 and Master Harry paused with much satisfac- 
 tion to look at the pretty handwriting on
 
 216 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 the envelope — lie 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 
 imderstand how you should be so careless 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 Eosewarne."
 
 THE SNARES OF LONDON. 217 
 
 • 
 
 Harry Trelyon was at once vexed and 
 pleased by this letter ; probably more vexed 
 than pleased, for he threw it impatiently on 
 the table, and said to himself, ^' She's 
 always reading lectmres to people, and 
 always making a fuss of nothing. She was 
 meant for a Pmitan — she should have gone 
 out in the MaTjfiy to America." 
 
 Mayfly for Mayflotver 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 Kose- 
 warne ? 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 if 
 there are any spies pushing their noses into 
 my affairs, let 'em look out for a tweak, 
 that's aU ! "
 
 218 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 THE TWO PICTURES. 
 
 *^ Oh, Mabyn," Wenna called out in despair, 
 ''you will have all my liair down. Have 
 you gone quite mad ? " 
 
 ''Yes, quite/' the younger sister said, 
 with a wild enjoyment 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 for- 
 saken, and yellow's forsworn ? " 
 
 "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
 
 THE TWO riCTURES. 219^ 
 
 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. Koscorla on his first stage towards Lon- 
 don. He had driven the two sisters out for 
 about a mile, and now they were going back ; 
 and Mabyn was almost beside herself with 
 delight that he was gone, and that her 
 sister had shown no great grief at his going. 
 Their parting, indeed, had been of a most 
 unromantic kind, much to the rehef of both.- 
 Mr. Eoscorla 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 smilo 
 on her face, and away he went. 
 
 "Mabyn," she said in a mysterious 
 voice, which stopped her sister's pulHng 
 her about, " do you think — now do you
 
 ■220 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 really think — Mr. Pavy would lend us Ms 
 boat?" 
 
 ^' Oh, Wenna,'' the other one cried, '' do 
 let us have the boat out ! Do you know 
 that the whole air seems clear and Hght 
 since Mr. Eoscorla has gone ? I should 
 like to thank everybody 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 ! " 
 
 ^^ You ! " said the elder sister, with great 
 contempt. *^I'U 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 theii' heads 
 down, in a business-like fashion that showed 
 there was very little the matter with their 
 lungs. 
 
 *^0h, Mabyn!" said Wenna, suddenly; 
 •and then both of them found that they had 
 very nearly run into the arms of a clergy-
 
 THE TWO PICTURES. 221 
 
 man — an elderly, white-haired, amiable-look- 
 ing gentleman, who was rather slowly toil- 
 ing 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 — 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 better than a 
 good race, nothing better." 
 
 *^And how is your little granddaughter 
 this morning, Mr. Trewhella?" said Wenna, 
 gently, with her cheeks still flushing with 
 the running. 
 
 ** Ah ! well, poor child, she is much about 
 the same ; but the pin-cushion 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
 
 222 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 to you. Dear, dear! she was asking her 
 motlier yesterday whether the heads would 
 carry all her love to you, for she did not 
 think it possible herself. Well, good-bye, 
 girls; don't you be ashamed of having a 
 race together," with which the Idndly-faced 
 clergyman resumed his task of ascending 
 the hill, and the two girls, abandoning their 
 racing, walked quickly down to the harbour, 
 to see if they could persuade the silent and 
 surly Mr. Pavy to let them have his boat. 
 
 Meanwhile Mr. Koscorla drove along the 
 silent highway in George Eosewarne's dog- 
 cart, and in due time he reached Launces- 
 ton, 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, 
 tearing along the iron rails towards London. 
 
 Now it was a fixed habit of Mr. Eoscorla 
 to try to get as near as possible to a clear 
 and definite understanding of his relations
 
 THE TWO PICTURES. 223 
 
 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 Egiosilyan 
 and the life there since the beginning of his 
 engagement, he calmly set about definiag 
 the position in which he stood with regard 
 to Wenna Eosewarne. 
 
 The chief matter for discontent that he 
 
 had was the probable wonder of the world 
 
 over the fact that he meant to marry an 
 
 innkeeper'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. 
 
 Eoscorla felt that at his time of life to be 
 
 accused of romance was to be accused of
 
 224 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 silliness ; and he resolved that, whenever 
 he had a chance, he would let people know 
 that his choice of Wenna Eosewarne was 
 dictated by the most simple and common- 
 place arguments of prudence, such as would 
 govern the conduct of any sane man. 
 
 He resolved, too, that he would clearly 
 impress on Harry T»relyon — ^whom he ex- 
 pected to see at Nolan's — that this project 
 of marriage with Miss Eosewarne was pre- 
 cisely what a man of the world placed in 
 his position would entertain. He did not 
 whoUy like Master Harry. There was an 
 ostentatious air of youth about the young 
 man. There was a bluntness in his speech, 
 too, that transgressed the Hmits of courtesy. 
 Nor did he quite admire the off-handed 
 fashion in which Harry Trolyon talked to 
 the Eosewarnes, and more especially to 
 the girls ; he wished Miss Wenna Eose- 
 warne, at least, to be treated with a little 
 more formahty and respect. At the same
 
 THE TWO PICTURES. 225 
 
 time, lie would endeavour to remain good 
 friends with this ill-mannered hoy, for 
 reasons to he 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 Virginian nightingale that had 
 escaped from one of the cages ; and he 
 nearly stumbled over a tame hedgehog that 
 ran pattering 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 hand with him carelessly, and said — 
 
 " How odd you should stumble in here I 
 Or did Wenna Eosewarne tell you I was 
 at Nolan's?" 
 
 " Yes, Miss Eosewarne did," said Mr. 
 Eoscorla. ^^ You have quite a menagerie 
 here. Do you dine here or downstairs ? " 
 
 VOL. I. O
 
 226 THKEE FEATHEKS. 
 
 *' Oil I here, of course." 
 
 " I tlionglit you might come and dine 
 with me this evening at my clnh. Five 
 minutes' walk from here, you know. Will 
 you?" 
 
 ''Yes, I will, if you don't mind this 
 elegant costume." 
 
 Mr. Eoscorla was precisely the person 
 to mind the dress of a man whom he was 
 taking into his cluh ; but he was veiy well 
 aware that, whatever dress young Trelyon 
 wore, no one could mistake him for any- 
 thing else than a gentleman. He was not 
 at all averse to be seen with Master Harry 
 in this rough costume ; he merely suggested, 
 with a smile, that a few feathers and bits of 
 thread might be removed ; and then, in the 
 quiet summer evening, they went outside 
 and walked westward. 
 
 " Now this is the time," Mr. Eoscorla 
 said, *'when Pall Mall looks interesting to 
 me. There is a sort of quiet and strong
 
 THE TWO PTCTUEES. 227 
 
 excitement abont it. All that smoke there 
 over the club chinmeys tells of the cooking 
 going forward; and yon will find old boys 
 haying 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 An- 
 gostura 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-U 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," Tre- 
 lyon said, which was true. '• But what has 
 brought yon up to London ? " 
 
 ""WeU, I'U teU you. It's rather an 
 awkward business one way. I have ffot a 
 share in some sugar and coffee plantations 
 in Jamaica — ^I think you know that — and 
 you are aware that the emancipation of the
 
 228 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 niggers simjoly 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 ont of it but one — to im- 
 port labour, 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 Lon- 
 don, and asked himself whether he was 
 prepared to give a sum of JC5,000 to Wenna 
 Eosewarne, merely that it should be trans- 
 ferred by her to her husband, who would 
 forthwith embark in speculation mth it. 
 Well, he was not prepared to do that off- 
 hand.
 
 THE TWO PICTURES. 229 
 
 They went into the chib, which was 
 in St. James's Street, and Mr. Eoscorla 
 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 deHcacies which his com- 
 panion 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 couple of big easy-chau's, and lit 
 their cigars. During dinner their talk had 
 mostly been about shooting, varied with 
 anecdotes which Mr. Eoscorla told of men 
 about town. 
 
 Now, however, Mr. Eoscorla became 
 more commurdcative about his own affairs ; 
 and it seemed to Trelyon that these were 
 rather in a bad way. And it also occurred
 
 230 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 to him that there was perhaps a little 
 meanness in his readiness to give £5,000 
 dii'ect to Wenna Eosewarne, and in his 
 disinclination to lend the same sum to her 
 future husband, whose interests of com'se 
 would be hers. 
 
 *' Look here, Eoscorla," he said. 
 ** Honour 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?" 
 
 Eoscorla answered, honestly enough — 
 but with perhaps a trifle unnecessary 
 emphasis, when he saw that the young man 
 was incHned to accept the hint — that he 
 believed the project to be a sound one ; 
 that his partners were putting far more 
 money 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
 
 THE TWO PICTURES. 231 
 
 money, lie 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 present ; and so their talk 
 drifted away into other channels, until it 
 found its way hack to Eglosilyan, to the 
 Kosewarnes, and to Wenna. That is to 
 say, Mr. Eoscorla spoke of Wenna ; Trelyon 
 was generally silent on that one point. 
 
 ^' You must not imagine," Eoscorla said, 
 with a smile, ''that I took this step with- 
 out 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
 
 232 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 whether he was 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," 
 Koscorla said, with his face flushing 
 slightly, and inchned to be ill-tempered. 
 ^' There is a great difference : I am not old 
 enough to want a nurse yet. I have chosen 
 Miss Eosewarne because she is possessed of 
 certain qualities calculated to make her an 
 agreeable companion for a man like myself. 
 I have done it quite dehberately and with 
 my eyes open. I am not bhnded 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 mat- 
 ter with Wenna Kosewarne's face," said 
 Trelyon, with the least suggestion of sar- 
 casm.
 
 THE TWO PICTURES. 233 
 
 ^^Oh! as for that," Koscoiia said, ^'tliat 
 does not concern a man who looks at Hfe 
 from my point of view. Certainly, there 
 are plainer faces than Miss Eosewarne's. 
 She has good eyes and teeth ; and besides 
 that, she has a good figure, yon know." 
 
 Both these men, as they lay idling in 
 this smoking-room, were now thinking of 
 Wenna Eosewarne, and indolently and in- 
 advertently 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 di^ess, as 
 she appeared to him on bidding him good- 
 bye the day before on the Launceston 
 highway. The dress was a soft Hght- 
 brown, touched here and there with deep 
 and rich cherry colour. Her face was 
 turned sideways to him, and looking up ; 
 the lips partly open with a friendly smile, 
 and showing beautiful teeth; the earnest
 
 234 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 dark eyes filled with a kindly regard; the 
 eyebrows high, so that they gave a timid 
 and wondering look to the face ; the fore- 
 head 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 mali- 
 cious 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 Eosewarne was 
 not very good-looking ; but that would not 
 have affected his fixed and private belief
 
 THE TWO PICTURES. 235 
 
 that lie knew no woman who had so beaiiti- 
 fal and tender a face. For somehow, when 
 he thought of her, he seemed to see her, 
 as he had often seen her, go by hhn on a 
 summer morning on her way to church ; 
 and as the sweet small Puritan would turn 
 to him, and say in her gentle way, '^ Good 
 morning, Mr. Trelyon," he would feel vexed 
 and ashamed that he had been found with 
 a gun in his hand, and be inclined to heave 
 it into the nearest ditch. Then she would 
 go on her way, along between the green 
 hedges, in the summer 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. Eoscorla in this 
 smoking-room, " if I go to Jamaica, I must 
 get married before I start."
 
 236 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 
 THE CHAIN TIGHTENS. 
 
 Once, and once only, Wenna broke down. 
 She liad gone out into the night all by her- 
 self, 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 harbour — 
 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 sHpping
 
 THE CHAIN TIGHTENS. 237 
 
 out. And here, in the cool, sweet darkness, 
 the waves seemed to call on her with a low 
 and melancholy voice. A great longing and 
 tronhle came somehow into her heart, and 
 drove her to wander onwards as if she 
 should find rest in the mere loneliness of the 
 night, until at length there was nothing 
 aroimd her but the dark land, and the sea, 
 and the white stars. 
 
 She could not tell what wild and sad 
 feehng this was that had taken possession of 
 her ; but she loiew that she had suddenly 
 fallen away from the calm content of the 
 wife that was to be — with all the pleasant 
 sensation of gratitude towards him who had 
 honoured her, and the no less pleasant 
 consciousness that her importance in the 
 world, and her power of helping 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 —
 
 238 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 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 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 himself 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 on- 
 wards, 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
 
 THE CHAIN TIGHTENS. 239 
 
 imgrateful 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 myself, 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 herself with ingratitude, with 
 vanity, with a thousand errors and evil 
 qualities ; she would teach herself humihty ; 
 she would endeavour to be contented and 
 satisfied in the position in which she found 
 herself ; she would reflect on the thousands 
 of miserable people who had real reason to 
 complain, and yet bore their sufferings with 
 fortitude ; and she would now — straightway 
 and at once — return to her own room, get 
 out the first letter Mr. Koscorla had written 
 to her, and convince herself once more that 
 she ought to be happy.
 
 240 THEEE FEATHERS. 
 
 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 sister'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. Eoscorla's letter 
 would reassm'e her and banish these 
 imaginary sorrows. She had fi'equently 
 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 Iniow that 
 your face is quite white ? Have you been 
 out all by yourself ? " 
 
 Wenna, on getting home, had gone into 
 the httle snuggery which was once a bar, 
 and which was now George Eosewarne's 
 smoking-room. Mabyn and her father had
 
 THE CHAIN TIGHTENS. 241 
 
 been playing chess — the board and pieces 
 were still on the table. Wenna sate down, 
 apparently a little tired. 
 
 '^ Yes, I have been out for a walk," she 
 said. 
 
 ** Wenna, tell me what is the niatter 
 mth you!" the younger sister said, im- 
 peratively. 
 
 II There is nothing the matter. Well, I 
 suppose you will tease me until I tell you 
 something. I have had a fit of despond- 
 ency, Mabyn, and that's all — despondency, 
 over nothing ; and now I am quite cured, 
 and do you think Jennifer could get me 
 a cup of tea ? Well, why do you stare ? 
 Is there anything wonderful in it ? I sup- 
 pose every girl must get fiightened 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 " 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 She stopped suddenly. To iier 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 expression of Mabyn' s face — 
 in the proud, indignant mouth and the half- 
 concealed anger of the eyes. The younger 
 sister 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 gettilig to be just like childi'en 
 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
 
 THE CHAIN TIGHTENS. 243 
 
 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 fooHsh girl, I am my old 
 seK," the elder sister said, quietly taking 
 off her bonnet and laying it on the table. 
 " Is Jennifer up-stairs ? Who is in the 
 l^arlour ? '* 
 
 *^ Oh, your sweetheart is in the parlour," 
 said Mabyn, with badly- concealed contempt. 
 ^' He is just arrived from London. I sup- 
 pose he is teUing mother about his rheu- 
 matism." 
 
 ** 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 diaboHcal 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 chas-
 
 244 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 tened meekness. *^ And gout too — I can 
 see by the colour of his nails. Of course 
 he hasn't told you, for you're such a simple- 
 ton, he takes advantage of you. And he 
 is near-sighted, but he pretends he doesn't 
 need spectacles. And I am told he has 
 fearful debts hanging 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 mak- 
 ing 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 parlour in which 
 Mr. Eoscorla and her mother were talking. 
 
 The meeting of the lovers after their 
 temporary separation was not an impas- 
 sioned one. They shook hands ; Wenna 
 hoped he was not fatigued by the long 
 journey ; and then he resumed his task 
 of describing to Mrs. Eosewarne the ex-
 
 THE CHAIN TIGHTENS. 245 
 
 traordinary appearance of Trelyon's sit- 
 ting-room in Nolans '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. Eoscorla and 
 his betrothed were left alone. He rarely 
 got such an opportunity. 
 
 ^^ Wenna, I have brought you the ring," 
 said he ; and with that he took a small case 
 from his pocket, and opened it, and pro- 
 duced a very pretty gypsy ring studded 
 with emeralds. 
 
 Now, on the journey down fi'om London 
 he had definitely resolved that he would put 
 an end to that embarrassment or shame- 
 facedness 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 beheve that he could have been
 
 246 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 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 op- 
 portunity for breaking in upon this absurd 
 delicacy. 
 
 He went across the room to her. She 
 sate 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 devihsh 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 
 famiHar 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 colour of the stones by lamplight, 
 you know."
 
 THE CHAIN TIGHTENS. 247 
 
 Wenna was not thinking of the colour 
 of the stones. Her 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 hke engaged rings quite 
 as well as girls do. A girl generally seems to 
 take such a fancy for an engaged ring that 
 she won '4; 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 
 sate 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. Eoscorla held was as 
 cold and as impassive as ice. He did not
 
 248 THREE FEATHEES. 
 
 notice it : tie was engaged in preparing 
 sentences. 
 
 "You know, Wenna," said he, "that I 
 am not a rich man. When I might have 
 taught myself to work I had just sufficient 
 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 propose to wake up those 
 estates in Jamaica, and see if they can't be 
 made to produce something like what they 
 used to produce. 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 interests and my own —
 
 THE CHAIN TIGHTENS. 249 
 
 see, in fact, that tlie 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 inappropriately. 
 
 "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 with- 
 drew 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 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
 
 250 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 said, still with lier 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 other 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. Eoscorla was at once astonished 
 and vexed. That was certainly not the 
 mood in which a ghl ought to look forward 
 to her marriage. He could not understand 
 this dread on her part. He began to ask 
 himseK whether she would like to enjoy the 
 seK-importance that her engagement had 
 bestowed on her — the attentions he paid 
 her, the assistance he gave her in her cha- 
 ritable labours, and the sort of sovereignty 
 over a man which a girl enjoys during the
 
 THE CHAIN TIGHTENS. 251 
 
 betrotlial 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 a 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
 
 252 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 been. It is not that at all ; but your wish 
 seems so sudden, 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 of 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 was, 
 too ; for a young girl's voice was doing its 
 best to imitate in a burlesque fashion a 
 young man's voice ; and Mr. Eoscorla 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
 
 THE CHxVIN TIGHTENS. 253 
 
 lady in question condescended to give of 
 her approach. She opened the door with- 
 out ceremony, marched into the middle of 
 the room, and proudly placed a hird-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 rehef. 
 
 *^No you can't," her sister said dog- 
 matically. ''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, triumphantly.
 
 254 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 AN UNEXPECTED CONVERT. 
 
 Next morning was Sunday morning; and 
 Wenna, having many things to think over 
 by herself, started off alone to chm'ch, some 
 Httle time before the others, and chose a 
 circuitous route to the smaU building which 
 stands on the high uplands over the sea. It 
 was a beautiful morning, stiU and peaceful, 
 with the warmth of the sunlight cooled by a 
 refreshing western breeze ; and as she went 
 along and up the valley, her heart gradually 
 forgot its cares, for she was Hstening to the 
 birds singing, and picking up an occasional 
 wild-flower, or watching the slow white 
 clouds cross the blue sky. And as she 
 walked quietly along in this way, finding
 
 AN UNEXPECTED CONVERT. 255 
 
 her life tlie sweeter for tlie sweet air and 
 tlie abundant colour and briglitness 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 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 rephed by 
 a rather 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 powers ; 
 and he now bore it over his shoulder.
 
 25G THKEE FEATHERS. 
 
 *' I think you might have left the gun at 
 home on a Sunday morning," Miss Wenna 
 said, in rather a precise fashion. ^^ And, do 
 yon know, Mr. Trelyon, I can't understand 
 why you should speak in that way ahout 
 clergymen, when you say yourself that you 
 always avoid them, and don't know any- 
 thing ahout them. It reminds me of a 
 stable-hoy 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 fi'om 
 stable-boys ? 
 
 *^ Parsons and churches are too good for 
 the likes o' me," he said, contemptuously. 
 '' 'Morning, Miss Eosewarne," and with 
 that he walked off. 
 
 But about three minutes thereafter,
 
 AN UNEXPECTED CONVERT. 257 
 
 when she was peacefully continuing her 
 way, he overtook 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 
 Avith you if you like. I've stuck my air- 
 cane in a safe place." 
 
 Wenna's face brightened. 
 
 *'I shaU be very glad," she said, vdth 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. 
 TrewheUa, 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 feUow as 
 that Barnes — why, that feUow's son was 
 with me at Eugby, and wasn't he a pretty 
 chip of the old block — a mean, lying little 
 beggar, who would do anything to get a 
 haK-crown out of you." 
 
 YOL. I. S
 
 258 THREE FEATHEES. 
 
 *' Oh, were yon at Kiigby?" Wenna 
 asked, innocently. 
 
 ^' 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 Eugby ; 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.
 
 AN UNEXPECTED CONVERT. 259 
 
 But that little brute Barnes I was telling 
 you about, lie 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 chm'ch with you, like an angel of sub- 
 mission, 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
 
 260 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 were following joined the main highway 
 leading 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 
 Eosewarne on a Simday morning ; and still 
 more surprised when, after she was in 
 church, she beheld Master Harry walk 
 coolly in and march 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. 
 Boscorla — -had ever seen the hke of this 
 before ? And it was all the greater wonder, 
 that the young gentleman in the rough 
 shooting-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 gui who had 
 done this thing.
 
 AN UNEXPECTED CONVERT. 261 
 
 That forenoon, just before luncheon, 
 Mrs. Trelyon found her son in the library, 
 and said to him, with an unusual kindliness 
 of manner — 
 
 ^^ That was Miss Eosewarne, Harry, 
 wasn't it, whom I saw this morning ? " 
 
 '^Yes," he said, sulkily. He half ex- 
 pected 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 sm-e Mr. Eoscorla 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 Eoscorla 5,000Z. to 
 help him to work his Jamaica estates. If 
 you don't like to sanction the affair, I can 
 get the money fi'om the Jews. I have 
 written to Colonel Eansome to tell him so."
 
 262 . THEEE FEATHERS. 
 
 ^^Now why should yoii treat me so, 
 Harry ? " his mother said. 
 
 ^^I took yoii at yom' word — that's all. 
 I suppose now yon are better disposed to 
 the girl merely becanse she got me to go to 
 chnrch this morning. If there were more 
 people Hke 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 chm'ch. Well 
 now, Harry, I will myself lend you the 
 5,000?. till you come of age. Surely that 
 Avill be much better ; and, if you like, I will 
 make Miss Rosewarne's acquaintance. You 
 might ask her to dinner the first time Mr. 
 Eoscorla is coming ; and he could bring 
 her." 
 
 Master Harry was at last pacified. 
 
 '' Make it Thursday," said he, '' and you
 
 AN UNEXPECTED CONVERT. 263 
 
 will write to lier, 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. Eoscorla, as if he were the means of 
 introducing her. I shall go down for her 
 vath the brougham, and fetch her myself." 
 
 ''But what will Mr. Eoscorla say to 
 that ? " his mother asked, with a smile. 
 
 " Mr. Eoscorla may say whatever he 
 particularly pleases," responded Master 
 Harry.
 
 264 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 CHAPTEK XIY. 
 
 '^SIE BAT SO SANFT, SO LIEBLICH." 
 
 '^To dine at Trelyon Hall?" said George 
 Eosewarne to his eldest daughter, when she 
 in a manner asked his consent. ^'Why 
 not ? But yon 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 di-ess by 
 Thursday?" her father repeated mechani- 
 cally, for he was watching one of his pet 
 pigeons on the roof of the mill. " How can
 
 *^SIE BAT SO SAXFT, SO LIEBLICH." 265 
 
 I tell you? Go and ask your mother. 
 Don't bother me." 
 
 It is quite certain that Wenna would 
 not have availed herself of this gracious 
 permission, for her mother was not very 
 weU, and she did not wish to increase that 
 tender anxiety which Mrs. Eosewarne al- 
 ready showed about her daughter's going 
 among these strangers ; but that this con- 
 versation 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 Eglosilyan for a 
 hundred and twenty- five years ! "
 
 2GG THREE FEATHEKS. 
 
 ^^ Mabyn, I don't want a new dress," 
 Wenna expostulated. " I don't need one. 
 Wliy 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 o^ai way," the mother said, gently. 
 
 *' I let her?" Wenna answered, pretend- 
 ing 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 get Miss 
 Keam down directly, or else I'll go and cut 
 it myself, and then you'll have Harry
 
 ^^SIE BAT SO SANFT, 80 LIEBLICH." 267 
 
 Trelyon laughing at you; for lie always 
 laughs at people who don't know how to 
 keep him in his proper place." 
 
 ^' Meaning yourself, Mahyn," the mother 
 said ; but Mahyn was not to he 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 Eosewarne 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 grati- 
 tude to her for having been good enough to 
 accept his mother's invitation. Moreover, 
 understanding that Mrs. Eosewarne was 
 still rather ailing, he had brought doTvm for 
 her a brace of grouse from a hamper that 
 had reached the Hall from Yorkshire that 
 morning ; and he was even fi'iendly and 
 good-natured to Mahyn instead of being 
 ceremoniously impertinent towards her.
 
 2G8 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 ''Don't you tliink, Mr. Trelyon," said 
 Wenna, in a timid way, as she was getting 
 into the brougham, '' don't you think we 
 should drive round for Mr. Eoscorla ?" 
 
 ''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."
 
 ''SIE BAT SO SANFT, SO LIEBLICH." 269 
 
 ^^Well," said lie, with a langh, ^' I 
 never knew two girls stick uj) so for one 
 another. Don't imagine I was such a 
 fool as to say anything against her. But 
 sisters ain't often Hke that. My cousin 
 Jue has a sister at school, and when she's 
 at home, the bullying that goes on is some- 
 thing a^dPul ; or rather it's nagging and 
 scratching, for girls never go in for a fail* 
 stand-up fight. And yet when you meet 
 these two separately, you find each of 
 them as good-natiu'ed 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 
 people like a cart-load of bricks ; and she 
 can do it, mind you, when she Hkes." 
 
 ^^Eemember," he said, after a word or 
 two, " I mean to take you in to dinner. 
 It is just possible my mother may ask 
 Mr. Eoscorla to take you in, as a compH- 
 ment to him ; but don't you go."
 
 270 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 "I must do what I am told," Wenna 
 answered, meekly. 
 
 '' Oil no, you miisn'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." 
 
 ''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 deli- 
 cate ground, and that of all things in the 
 world that Wenna least liked to hear 
 spoken of, her engagement to Mr. Eos- 
 corla was the chief. 
 
 Late that night, w^hen Wenna returned 
 from her first dinner-party at Trelyon Hall,
 
 ^'SIE BAT SO SANFT, SO LIEBLICH." 271 
 
 she found her sister Mabyu waiting up for 
 her, and, having properly scolded the young 
 lady for so doing, she sat down and con- 
 sented to give her an ample 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 grey, 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
 
 272 THEEE FEATHERS. 
 
 Ms mother, wlio was very kind to me, 
 but did not seem inclined 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. Koscorla. I thought 
 Mr. Eoscorla 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, Mab}m, I did thank you 
 in my heart for letting me have it; for 
 I had forgotten that Mr. Koscorla 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 lie 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
 
 ^^SIE BAT SO SANFT, SO LIEBLICH." 273 
 
 must needs take me in to dinner, and I 
 sat on Ms 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 forward, 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 round 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. Trewhella because I was 
 coming ; and one thing I noticed was, 
 that he was always sending the butler to 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 274 THEEE FEATHEES. 
 
 fill Mr. Trewhella's glass, or to offer liim 
 some different wine, whereas he let the 
 other two clergymen take their chance. Mr. 
 Eoscorla was at the other end of the tahle 
 — he took in Mrs. Trelyon — 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 — per- 
 haps 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 did 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 brilhant 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
 
 *^SIE BAT SO SANFT, SO LIEBLICH." 275 
 
 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-coloured 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 the ^ Songs without 
 Words ' — those I could recollect easily — 
 then Beethoven's ' Farewell ; ' but while 
 I was playing that, I happened to turn a 
 httle 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 my- 
 self, 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
 
 276 THKEE FEATHERS. 
 
 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 I would put on a hood and a shawl 
 and take a turn with her roimd 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 dark- 
 ness, 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,
 
 ^^SIE BAT SO SANFT, SO LIEBLICH." 277 
 
 never thinking of tile 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 beau- 
 tiful sensations of being benevolent — and 
 how it softened your heart and refined 
 yoiu' 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
 
 278 THEEE FEATHERS. 
 
 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 conld do 
 if she liked. She was surprised, and I 
 think a Httle 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, madam,' said I (afterwards she 
 asked me not to call her so), 'that is im- 
 possible. 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 indignation, and begin- 
 ning to walk up and down the room. 
 ''Why, Wenna, they'd work yoiu' lingers 
 to the bone, and never say thank you. 
 You do far too much aheady — I say you
 
 '^SIE BAT SO SANFT, SO LIEBLICH." 279 
 
 do far too miicli already — and tlie 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 you to do all this work 
 and do nothing herself ! " 
 
 "My dear child," said Wenna, ''you are 
 quite unjust. Mrs. Trelyon is neither mean 
 nor wicked; but she was in ignorance, and 
 she is timid, and imused to visiting poor 
 people. When I showed her that no one 
 in Egiosilyan could so effectively begin the 
 Club as herself — and that the reckless 
 giving of money that she seemed inclined to 
 was the worst soi^t of kindness — and when 
 I told her of all my plans of getting the 
 materials wholesale, and making the hus- 
 bands subscribe, and the women sew, and 
 all that I have told you, she took to the 
 plan ^dth an almost childish enthusiasm;
 
 280 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 and now it is quite settled, and tlie 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 cheques to public charities — and 
 she is akeady 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 neighbours 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 ;
 
 *'SIE BAT SO SANFT, SO LIEBLICH." 281 
 
 but yoii see how it all came about, Mabyn. 
 She was so interested in this scheme " 
 
 " Oh yes ; I see how it aU came about," 
 said Mabyn, quite contentedly. ''And now 
 you are very tired, you poor httle thing, 
 and I shan'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 Eoyal Highness 
 Mr. Eoscorla condescended 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.
 
 282 THREE FEATHEKS. 
 
 CHAPTEE 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 heen 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 water- 
 ing place, while her son proceeded to accept 
 such invitations as he could get to shoot in 
 the Enghsh counties. This autumn Harry 
 Trelyon accompanied his mother as far as 
 Etretat, where a number of her friends had 
 made up a small party. From this point
 
 A LEAYE-TAKIKG OF LOYEES. 283 
 
 she wrote to Wenna, saying how sorry she 
 was she could not personally help in 
 founding that Sewing Cluh, but offering to 
 send a handsome subscription. Wenna 
 answered the letter in a dutiful spirit, but 
 firmly declined the offer. Then nothing 
 was heard of the Trelyons for a long time, 
 except that now and again a hamper of 
 game would make its appearance at Eglo- 
 silyan, addressed to Miss Wenna Eosewarne 
 in a sprawling schoolboy's hand, which she 
 easily recognized. Master Harry was cer- 
 tainly acting on his own theory, that now 
 she was engaged he could give her presents, 
 or otherwise be as familiar and fiiendly 
 with her as he pleased. 
 
 It was a dull, slow, and dreary winter. 
 Mr. Koscorla was deeply engaged with his 
 Jamaica project, and was occasionally 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 —
 
 284: THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 to make his fortune. She put no obstacle 
 in his way, nor yet did she encourage him 
 to go ; it was for him to decide, 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 fi'om 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 relief, 
 indeed — to break the mournful silence of 
 those projecting chffs and untenanted bays 
 — when the heavens are shaken with a 
 storm, and when the gigantic waves wash 
 into the small harbour, so that the coasters 
 seeking shelter there have to be scuttled 
 and temporarily sunk in order to save them.
 
 A LEAVE-TAKING OF LOVERS. 285 
 
 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 sHppery cliffs. It was a tedious 
 and a cheerless winter. 
 
 Then Mrs. Kosewarne was more or less 
 of an invalid the most of the time, and 
 Wenna was much occupied by household 
 cares. Occasionally, when her duties in- 
 doors and in the cottages of her humble 
 friends had been got over, she would cKmb 
 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 
 parlours or kitchens where children had to 
 be laboriously taught. And yet the picture 
 was not cheerful. A grey and leaden sea — 
 a black line of cliffs standing sharp against 
 it until lost in the mist of the south — the
 
 286 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 ^'een 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 httle letter from Mrs. Trelyon, who 
 w^as at Mentone, and who said something 
 about the balmy aii', 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. Eoscorla, continually occupied with his 
 new project, seldom cared to remind her 
 that they were on the footing of sweet- 
 hearts. Their relations were of an emi- 
 nently friendly character, but Httle more — 
 in view of the forthcoming separation he
 
 A LEAVE-TAKINa OF LOVERS. 287 
 
 scarcely thought it worth while to have 
 them anything more. Sometimes he was 
 incHned to apologize to her for the ab- 
 sence of sentiment and romanticism which 
 marked their intimacy; 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 Eosewarne 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 withdi'ew to a side-table to make 
 up her account-books. Yeiy rarely indeed 
 — thanks to Miss Mabyn, whose hostihties 
 had never ceased — had he a chance of 
 seeing his betrothed alone, and then, some-
 
 288 THKEE FEATHERS. 
 
 how, their conversation invariably 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 beautiful ; but 
 she had quahties that would last — intelli- 
 gence, sweetness, and a sufficient fund of 
 gentle humour 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 occurs — gratitude is a 
 very good substitute. Mr. Koscorla was 
 quite content. 
 
 ^'Wenna," said he, one day after they
 
 A LEAVE-TAKING OF LOVEKS. 289 
 
 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 expect- 
 ing some utterance 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 Httle disappointed that she 
 said nothing more ; but he himself imme- 
 diately proceeded to deal with the aspects 
 of the case in a most businesslike manner. 
 
 *^ And then," said he, ^*I don't want to 
 put you to the pain of taking a formal and 
 solemn farewell as the ship sails. One 
 
 VOL. I. U
 
 290 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 always feels downhearted in watching a sHp 
 go away, even though there is no reason. I 
 must go to London in any case for a few 
 days before saihng, and so I thought that if 
 you wouldn't mind coming as far as Laun- 
 c est on — 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 some- 
 thing about her engaged-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
 
 A LEAYE-TAKING OF LOVERS. 291 
 
 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 grey forenoon Mr. Eoscorla walked 
 down to the inn, and found the waggonette 
 at the door. His luggage had been sent on 
 to Southampton some days before ; he was 
 ready to start at once. 
 
 Wenna was a Httle pale and nervous 
 when she came out and got into the wag- 
 gonette ; but she busied herself in wrap- 
 ping abundant rugs and shawls round her 
 mother, who protested against being buried 
 ahve. 
 
 ^' Good-bye," said her father, shaking 
 hands with Mr. Eoscorla 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
 
 292 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 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 examining the outlines of 
 the waggonette. 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 up and 
 over the hill, she suddenly ran to her father, 
 flung her arms round 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
 
 A LEAVE-TAKING OF LOVERS. 293 
 
 let fall, *'I wish you wouldn't be such a 
 fool." 
 
 But Mabyn was not to be crushed. She 
 4said, *^ 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 wag- 
 gonette that was making its way across the 
 bleak uplands — a black speck in the grey 
 and wintry landscape. Wenna was really 
 >sorry that this long voyage, and all its cares 
 and anxieties, should he before one who had 
 been so kind to her ; it made her miserable 
 to think of his going away into strange 
 lands aU 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
 
 294 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 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 he added to the substan- 
 tial 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 success, 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, beHeve that 
 any sensible girl would do anything of the 
 sort.
 
 A LEAVE-TAKING OF LOVEKS. 295 
 
 At the same time he had no fear what- 
 ever as to her remaining constant to him. 
 A girl altogether out of the way of meeting 
 marriageable young men would be under no 
 temptation to let her fancies rove. More- 
 over, Wenna Eosewarne 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 in- 
 ducement of waiting to see whether he 
 might not bring back a fortune to her ? 
 But the real cause of his trust in her was 
 that experience of her uncompromising 
 sincerity and keen sense of honour that he 
 had acquired during a long and suf&ciently 
 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 ad- 
 mission pleased and flattered him.
 
 296 THEEE FEATHERS. 
 
 " You don't give me courage," lie 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 Eosewarne. 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
 
 A LEAVE-TAKING OF LOVERS. 297 
 
 in one of those things whicli men do be- 
 cause they are men and seem bound to 
 satisfy their ambition with results which 
 women might consider unnecessary. But 
 that she should have exercised any influence 
 on his decision — that alarmed her with a 
 new sense of responsibihty, and she began 
 to wish that he could suddenly drop this 
 project, have the waggonette turned round, 
 and drive back to the quiet content and 
 small economies and peaceful work of 
 Eglosilyan. 
 
 They arrived in good time at Launces- 
 ton, and went for a stroll up to the tine old 
 castle while luncheon was being got ready 
 at the hotel. Wenna did not seem to re- 
 gard that as a very enticing meal when they 
 sat down to it. The talk was kept up 
 chiefly by her mother and Mr. Koscorla, 
 who spoke of life on shipboard, and the best 
 means of killing the tedium of it. Mr. 
 Eoscorla said he would keep a journal all
 
 298 THKEE FEATHERS. 
 
 the time lie 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 
 greys, which were being walked up and 
 down. 
 
 *^ Surely those are Mrs. Trelyon's 
 horses," Wenna said; and as the carriage, 
 which was empty, came nearer, the coach- 
 man 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. 
 Eoscorla 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.
 
 A LEAVE-TAKING OF LOVERS. 299 
 
 ^^ God bless you ! I hope yon 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 hps were 
 trembhng — 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 handker- 
 chief that was being waved from one of the 
 carriage windows. She stood quite still, 
 until her mother put her hand on her 
 shoulder, 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. Kosewarne? 
 How are you, Wenna?"— and then he
 
 SOO THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 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. Eosewarne — 
 
 ^^I heard you were coming over to this 
 train, and I was afraid you would find the 
 drive back in the waggonette rather cold 
 this evening. I have got our landau outside 
 closed, you know — and I thought you might 
 let me drive you over." 
 
 Mrs. Eosewarne looked at her daughter. 
 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, ar^d off 
 he darted. 
 
 Was it his respect for Wenna's trouble,
 
 A LEAVE-TAKING OF LOVERS. 301 
 
 or had it been his knocking about among 
 strangers for six months, that seemed to 
 have given to the young man (at least in 
 Mrs. Eosewarne's eyes) something of a 
 more conrteons and considerate manner? 
 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 Hghtened, and she 
 grew interested and pleased. She, too, 
 thought he was much improved — how, she- 
 could not exactly tell. 
 
 ** Come," said he, at last, ^^ you must 
 not be very downhearted about a mero 
 hohday 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
 
 302 THREE FEATHERS. 
 
 to the station, as you did to-day, to meet 
 Mr. Eoscorla 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. ''Eos- 
 corla 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 something 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, espe- 
 cially when he gets a letter from you, with 
 a Cornish primrose or violet in it. And 
 you'll get that soon now," he added, 
 quickly seeing that Wenna blushed some-
 
 A LEAYE-TAKINa OF LOVEKS. 303 
 
 what; **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 fresh- 
 ness pervaded 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 grey under the cloudy 
 sky. But while they waited for the coach- 
 man to uncover the landau, a soft and
 
 304 THEEE FEATHERS. 
 
 yellow light began 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 west- 
 ern skies were opening up; and what with 
 this new and beautiful Hght, and what 
 with the sweet air that awoke a thousand 
 pleasant and pathetic memories, it seemed 
 to Wenna Eosewarne that the tender 
 spring-time was at length at hand, with 
 all its wonder of yellow crocuses and 
 pale snowdrops, and the first faint shim- 
 merings 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 hfe 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.
 
 A LEAVE-TAKING OF LOVERS. 305 
 
 In bidding them good-bye at the door 
 of the inn, Mr. Harry Trelyon told them 
 that he meant to remain in Eglosilyan 
 for some months to come. 
 
 END OF VOL. L 
 
 LONDON: rillNTl P r.Y WIll.IAM ClOWKS ANT) fONS, MAWVOI. 
 AND CHAKINC CROSS. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 cT
 
 .MS«;j*ii