that they did not concern very much the subject of them. 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. "And if I am like my grandfather," he said, good-naturedly, to the old lady, who was seated in a garden-chair, "why don't you get me a wife such as he had ?" "Do you think a girl would come to a "You? A wife?" she repeated, in-house like this,- one half of it filled with dignantly, remembering that, after all, to dogs, and birds, and squirrels, and what praise the good looks and excuse the hot- not, the other furnished like a chapel in a headedness of the Trelyons was not pre- cemetery? A combination of a church cisely the teaching this young man need- and a menagerie, that's what I call it." ed. "You take a wife? Why, what girl would have you? You are a mere booby. You can scarcely write your name. George Trelyon was a gentleman, sir. He could converse in six languages "And swear considerably in one, I've heard," the lad said, with an impertinent laugh. "Grandmother," he said, "these parsons have been stuffing your head full of nonsense about me.” "Have they?" said the old lady sharply, and eyeing him keenly. "Are you sure it is all nonsense? You talk of marrying,- and you know that no girl 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 with a quick look of "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 horsebreaker to a cavalry regiment, or a game-anger in his face. keeper; and I do believe it is that old wretch, Pentecost Luke, who has ruined I suppose one of the cringing, sneaking, you. Oh! I heard how Master Harry used to defy his governess, and would say nothing to her for days together, but As I was going to St. Ives, "Who told you such infamous stories? white-livered Bah! He switched the head off the rose, and strode away, saying as he went "Grandmother, you mustn't stay here long. The air of the place affects even you. Another week of it, and you'll be as mean as the rest of them." Then, old Luke had to be brought in, But he was in a very bad temper, deand Luke's cure for stubbornness was to spite his careless gait. There was a scowl give the brat a gun and teach him to on the handsome and boyish face that shoot starlings. Oh! I know the whole was not pleasant to see. He walked story, my son, though I wasn't in Corn-round to the stables, kicked about the wall at the time. And then Master Har-yard while his horse was being saddled, ry must be sent to school; but two days and then rode out of the grounds, and afterwards Master Harry is discovered along the highway, until he went clatterat the edge of a wood, coolly seated withing down the steep and stony main street a gun in his hand, waiting for his ferrets of Eglosilyan. to drive out the rabbits. Then Master The children knew well this black Harry is furnished with a private tutor; horse: they had a superstitious fear of but a parcel of gunpowder is found be- him, and they used to scurry into the low the gentleman's chair, with the heads cottages when his wild rider, who seldom of several lucifer matches lying about. tightened rein, rode down the precipiSo Master Harry is allowed to have his tous thoroughfare. But just at this moown way; and his master and preceptor ment, when young Trelyon was paying is a lying old gamekeeper, and Master little heed as to where he was going, a Harry can't read a page out of a book, small, white-haired bundle of humanity but he can snare birds, and stuff fish, came running out of a doorway, and and catch butterflies, and go cliff-hunt- stumbled and fell right in the way of the ing on a horse that is bound to break his horse. The lad was a good rider, but all neck some day. Why, sir, what do you the pulling up in the world could not prethink a girl would have to say to you if vent the forefeet of the horse, as they you married her? She would expect you were shot out into the stones, from rollto take her into society; she would ex-ing over that round bundle of clothes. pect you to be agreeable in your manners, Trelyon leapt to the ground, and caught and be able to talk to people. Do you up the child, who stared at him with big, think she would care about your cunning 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 ?" She uttered a little scream, and caught at the boy. she put on her light shawl and her hat, and went out into the fresh air. She was now standing in the main street of Eglosilyan; and there were houses right down below her, and houses far above her, but a stranger would have been puzzled to say where this odd little village began and ended. For it was built in a straggling fashion on the sides of two little ravines; and the small stone cottages were so curiously scattered among the trees, and the plots of garden were so curiously banked up with the walls that were smothered in wild-flowers, that you could only decide which was the main thoroughfare by the presence there of two greystone chapels —one the Wes "Oh! there's no harm done; but I suppose I must give him a couple of sovereigns because he nearly frightened me out of my wits. Poor little kid! it's hardleyans' Ebenezer, the other the Bible on him that you should have given him such a name. I suppose you thought it was Cornish because it begins with Pen." "You knaw 'twere his vather's name, Maäster Harry," said Mrs. Luke, smiling as she saw that the child's chubby fingers were being closed over two bright gold pieces. Just at that moment, Master Harry, his eyes having got 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!" the young man said, removing his hat quickly, and blushing all over his handsome face. "I did not see you in the dark. Is your father at the inn? I was going to see him. I hope I haven't frightened you?" "Yes, my father has come back from Plymouth," said the young lady, quietly, and without rising. "And I think you might be a little more careful in riding through the village, Mr. Treylon." Christians'. The churches were far away on the uplands, where they were seen like towers along the bleak cliffs by the passing sailors. But perhaps Eglosilyan proper ought to be considered as lying down in the hollow, where the two ravines converged. For here was the chief inn; and here was the over-shot flour-mill; and here was the strange little harbour, tortuous, narrow, and deep, into which one or two heavy coasters came for slate, bringing with them timber and coal. Eglosilyan is certainly a picturesque place; but one's difficulty is to get anything like a proper view of it. The black and mighty cliffs at the mouth of the harbour, where the 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 Eglosilyan? Then if you go up one of the ravines, and get among the old houses, with their tree-fuchsias, and hydrangeas, and marigolds, and lumps of white quartz in the quaint little gardens, you find yourself looking down the chimneys of one portion of Eglosilyan, and looking up to the doorsteps of another-everywhere a confusion of hewn rock, and natural terrace, and stone walls, and bushes, and hart's-tongue fern. Some thought that the "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 reck-"Trelyon Arms" should be considered lessly as heretofore. CHAPTER II. JIM CROW. WHEN Miss Wenna, or Morwenna, as her mother in a freak of romanticism had called her, had finished her teaching, and had inspected some fashioning of garments in which Mrs. Luke was engaged, the natural centre of Eglosilyan; but you could not see half-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; but it was up in a by-street, and could only be approached by a flight of steps cut in the slate wall that banked up the garden in front of it. Others, for reasons which need not be mentioned, held that the most important part of Eglosilyan was the Napoleon Hotel a humble little pot-house, frequented by the workers in the slate quarries, who came there to discuss the affairs of the nation and hear the news. Anyhow, Eglosilyan was a green, bright, rugged, and picturesque little place, oftentimes wet with the western rains, and at all times fresh and sweet with the moist breezes from the Atlantic. Miss Wenna went neither down the street nor up the street, but took a rough and narrow little path leading by some of the cottages to the cliffs overlooking the sea. There was a sound of music in the air; and by-and-by she came in sight of an elderly man, who, standing in an odd little donkey-cart, and holding the reins in one hand, held with the other a cornopean, which he played with great skill. No one in Eglosilyan could tell precisely whether Michael Jago had been bugler to some regiment, or had acquired his knowledge of the cornopean in a travelling show; but everybody liked to hear the cheerful sound, and came out by the cottage-door to welcome him, as he went from village to village with his cart, whether they wanted to buy suet or not. And now, as Miss Wenna saw him approach, he was playing "The Girl I left behind me;" and as there was no one about to listen to him, the pathos of certain parts, and the florid and skilful execution of others, showed that Mr. Jago had a true love for music, and did not merely use it to advertise his wares. "Good-morning to you, Mr. Jago," said Miss Wenna, as he came up. "Marnin', Miss Rosewarne," he said, taking down his 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 believe we could go down to the bache, down the face of Black Cliff." "Mr. Jago, I want to say something to you. If you are dealing with old Mother Keam to-day, you'll give her a good extra bit, won't you? And so with Mrs. Geswetherick, for she has had no letter from her son now for three months. And this will pay you, and you'll say nothing about it, you know." She put the coin in his hand - it was an arrangement of old standing between the two. "Well, yü be a good young lady; yaas, yü be," he said, as he drove on; and then she heard him announcing his arrival to the people of Eglosilyan by playing, in a very elaborate manner, "Love's young Dream." The solitary young person who was taking her morning walk now left this rugged road, and found herself on the bleak and high uplands of the coast. Over there was the sea-a fair summer sea; and down into the south-west stretched a tall line of cliff, black, precipitous, and jagged, around the base of which even this blue sea was churned into seething masses of white. Close by was a church; and the very gravestones were propped up, so that they should withstand the force of the gales that sweep over those windy heights. She went across the uplands, and passed down to a narrow neck of rock, which connected with the mainland a huge projecting promontory, on the summit of which was a square and stronglybuilt tower. On both sides of this ledge of rock the sea from below passed into narrow channels, and roared into gigantic caves; but when once you had ascended again to the summit of the tall projecting cliff, the distance softened the sound into a low continuous murmur, and the motion of the waves beneath you was only visible in the presence of that white foam where the black cliffs met the blue sea. She went out pretty nearly to the verge of the cliff, where the close, short, windswept 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 Pendragon kept his state, where the mystic Arthur was born, where the brave Sir Tristram went to see his true love, La Belle Isoulde. All that world had vanished, and gone into silence; could anything be more mute and still than those bare uplands out at the end of the world, these voiceless cliffs, and the empty circle of the sea? The sun was hot on the rocks beneath 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 life about was the circling of one or two sea-birds, so far below her that their cries could not be heard. "Yes, it was a long time ago," the girl was thinking, as the book lay unheeded on her knee. "A sort of mist covers it now, and the knights seem great and tall men as you think of them riding through the fog, almost in silence. But then there were the brighter days, when the tournaments were held, and the sun came 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 because the roughest of the men look up to you, and think you a queen, and will do anything you ask. What a happy life a grand and beautiful lady must have, when she is tall, and fair-haired, and sweet in her manner; and every one around her is pleased to serve her, and she can do a kindness by merely saying a word to the poor people! But if you are only Jim Crow? There's Mabyn, now, she is everybody's 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 photograph; and Mr. Roscorla always writes to her, and Mr. Trelyon stuffed those squirrels for her, though he never offered to stuff squirrels for me. But I cannot be jealous of Mabyn - I cannot even try. She looks at you with her blue, soft eyes, and you fall in love with her; and that is the advantage of being handsome, and beautiful, for you can please every one, and make every one like you, and confer 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?" ping 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 mayn't have any mind to cultivate. How much better it would be to be pretty while you are young, and leave the cultivation of the mind for after years! and that is why I have to prevent mother from scolding Mabyn for never reading a book. If I were like Mabyn, I should be so occupied in giving people the pleasure of looking at me and talking to me that I should have no time for books. Mabyn is like a princess. And if she were a grand lady, instead of being only an innkeeper's daughter, what a lot of things she could do about Eglosilyan! She could go and persuade Mr. Roscorla, by the mere 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 make him less of a petulant boy. Perhaps Mabyn may do some of these things, when she gets a little older. It ought to please her to try at all events; and who can withstand her when she likes to be affectionate and winning? Not Jim Crow, 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 been false, she declares, Since last time we parted at Wapping Old Stairs; These despondent fancies did not seem to depress her much. The gloom of she had got that length when she was them was certainly not visible on her startled into silence by the sound of a face, nor yet in the dark eyes, which had horse's feet, and turning quickly round, a strange and winning earnestness in found Mr. Trelyon galloping up the them. She pulled a bit of tormentil from steep slope that stretches across to the among the close warm grass on the rocks, mainland. It was no pleasant place to and she hummed a line or two of "Wap-ride across, for a stumble of the animal's Why, Dick is as sure-footed as I am," said the lad, his handsome face flushing with the ride up from Eglosilyan. "I thought I should find you here. There's no end of a row 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 oblige me by getting down and leading your horse across until you reach the path? He was out of the saddle in a moment. "I will walk down with you to Eglosilyan, if you like," he said, carelessly. "You often come up here, don't you?" "Nearly every day. I always take a walk in the forenoon." "Does Mabyn ever go with you?" His companion noticed that he always addressed her as Miss Wenna, whereas her sister was simply Mabyn. "Not often." Mabyn would look well anywhere," said the elder sister, with a smile. 66 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 fright; and at last, when the two men seemed about to seize each other by the throat, he called out, 'For Heaven's sake, gentlemen, do not quarrel. Sir, I beg of you, I implore you, as a clergyman I entreat you, to put up that knife !' And then, of course, they both turned upon him like tigers, and slanged him, and declared they would break his back over this same window. Fancy the fright he was in!" The boy laughed merrily. "Do you think that was a good joke ?” the girl beside him asked, quietly. He seemed a little embarrassed. "Do you think it was a very manly and courageous thing for two big farmers to frighten a small and timid clergyman? I think it was rather mean and cowardly. I see no joke in it at all.” His face grew more and more red; and then he frowned with vexation. "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 himself, if he had known, would not have been so fearfully serious but that he could have taken a joke like any one else. By the way, this is the nearest road to Trevenna, isn't it? I have got to ride over there before the afternoon, Miss Rosewarne; so I shall bid you good-day." He got on horseback again, and took off his cap to her, and rode away. "Good-day, Mr. Trelyon," she said, meekly. "If she would like to try a lady's saddle And so she walked down to the inn by on your father's cob, I would send you herself, and was inclined to reproach herone down from the Hall," the lad said. self for being so very serious, and for beMy mother never rides now. But per- ing unable to understand a joke like any haps I'd better speak to your father about one else. Yet she was not unhappy it. Oh! by the way, he told me a capital about it. It was a pity if Mr. Trelyon story this morning that he heard in com- were annoyed with her; but then, she ing from Plymouth to Launceston in the had long ago taught herself to believe train. Two farmers belonging to Laun- that she could not easily please people, ceston had got into a carriage the day be-like her sister Mabyn; and she cheerfore, and found in it a parson, against fully accepted the fact. Sometimes, it is whom they had a grudge. He didn't true, she indulged in idle dreams of what know either of them by sight; and so she might do if she were beautiful, and they pretended to be strangers, and sat rich, and noble; but she soon laughed down opposite each other. One of them herself out of these foolish fancies, and put up the window; the other put it down they left no sting of regret behind them. with a bang. The first drew it up again, 'At this moment, as she walked down to |