"Oh, Auntie Martha," she said, " will you take us home? We are only twelve now."

As if in a dream, the old woman saw the children's uplifted faces, the tall lady, the old dog; but her eyes were for her master alone. She looked and looked at the face whose sadness had been crowding her hours with grieving fears; but now it was transfigured as if the heavens were open!

From him she turned again to the lady, whose homecoming with the children and Watchman had brought that light into her dear master's face. The old servant's heart soared like a bird, crazy with joy.

"Praise God from whom all blessings flow!" she broke out singing; but then her voice quavered and refused the task. She bent down hastily, pulling the tiny Bessie to her :

"Come down 'long to home, my blesseds," she said huskily; "come to home, 'long o' yer old Aunt Martha an' yer black uncle Watchman!

When they were all gone, Evangeline followed Christopher back into the church.

They stood by the font.

Christopher!" she said. The cresset-fire was shining through and lit up her face; her hood had fallen back.

"Saint Christopher!" she said again, and then dropped upon her knees, as if her greater height should be forgotten. She took his two hands together; silently she kissed them and kissed them again.

Then she looked up into his face, to her so worn and wonderful: "I brought nothing into my world of fashion, and like my little god-daughter buried in the woods, I bring nothing away from it! . . . The blood of the innocents is no longer upon me.. Will you

take me as I am, with no more than I kneel in ? Christopher Trevenna raised her by her hands and led her to the chancel. There the lovers kneeled hand in hand.

before the crucifix Through the chasm

in the floor they looked down upon the shadowy rocks and saw the cresset's red flames leaping on the spume of torn waves. They rose, still hand in hand, left the sanctuary and went into the nave. They stood again by the font with its grim angels at the corners and crawling reptiles on the plinth.

Then Christopher Travenna was now led through the North Door; and for the last time:

"Death is swallowed up in victory!" said he. In the morning the church of St. Neot's was gone for ever. The Stone was rolled away; but the Eternal had risen incorruptible from within its walls.

FINIS

Y

APPENDIX

In this appendix are gathered various sayings, epigrams and reflections of the Rev. Christopher Trevenna that will interest readers of the romance who find his character worth studying. To avoid overburdening the narrative they have not been included in the text. Besides these will be found items of historic or other interest bearing upon the story.

A. THE CORNISH VERNACULAR

In kindness to readers, little attempt has been made to suggest correct pronunciation by phonetic spelling. The local forms of speech and special words on the other hand seem so necessary to characterization that they are not withheld; but these do not hinder easy reading, as would any suggestion of the vowels' and consonants' actual pronunciation. Yet for those whose ears desire some approach to accuracy the following points may be noted.

a long is always very broad: baby is baäby.

e long is either clipped into short i, as fit, and swit, for feet and sweet, or is changed into a long as faver for fever.

i short is nearly invariably changed into e short making 'tes for 'tis, et for it, 'tedn for 'tisn't, ef for if and so on. Sometimes this i becomes u short, as un for him. O long is aw; "of him" may be given as o'un but is pronounced awn. Double oo becomes ew, and moon mewn, fool fule ;

u long, also is ew, and this becomes more pronounced as Devonshire is approached. But the short u is broadened as in cur, spur. His seldom dropped and never misplaced. S is nearly always Z.

Th is always dh.

Gh is generally f; thought is thojt, brought, broft just as we have retained this equivalent in cough, enough, etc.

Cornwall is peculiarly rich in her vocabulary. Many words are of Celtic origin. Thus thicky for this, or thicky there for that is probably abreviation of the ilk.

B.

As coals to Newcastle, it is said, so pilchards to Cornwall. They come in vast shoals, the surface of the sea seething and flashing with the compact mass of scaly life. At night their phosphorescence looks like a mountain of liquid moonshine pouring into the water. Gulls fly overhead in swooping circles, and voracious fish, cod, pollack, bream, conger-eels follow and prey upon these shoals or schools, that sometimes extend over a surface of seven or eight miles. They are caught in three kinds of nets. The drift-net about half a mile long and thirty feet deep is cast in the mouth of an estuary in summer nights and the fish are caught as the current drifts in and out. The seine-net is over three hundred feet long and seventy deep and is so cast as to include a school in its circle, and must be immediately emptied with the tuck-net, by which the enclosed fish are ladled out before fish of prey devour them. Sometimes, however, the seine will be dragged into a cove, when the retreating tide leaves a mass of glittering silver on the sands. On still dark summer nights the drift-net may be seen hanging down into the water, its meshes brilliantly lit with phosphorescence. There is a noble picture in the Tate Gallery by Napier Hemy representing the tuck-net in

use.

The huer is one who stands on a rock or cliff watching for the shoals. His cry of Heva! Heva! notifies the boats, and he directs them to the place. Three kinds of boats are needed. The seine-boat, the follyer and the lurker, each manned by five or six men. The fish are salted and their