er Pendarrel. You know her not by sight.
She was once, or I fancied she was, very dear to me. She coquetted
with me, discarded me, and wedded my kinsman. I never forgave her;
and, except on one provision, I now forbid all future intercourse with
her or hers. But I have sometimes thought I was not so indifferent to
her, as she, in her contempt, pretended. If it were so, she has
avenged me on herself, and has my pardon. You know my dying will. As I
have consented to the temporary obscuration of our race, so do you
promise, with the qualification I mentioned, to have no friendly
relations with the family of Philip Pendarrel."

Rashly and wrongfully the son gave the pledge wrongfully and
deliberately required by the father, and soon afterwards summoned his
sister back to her place beside the bed of death. The following
morning the blinds were not raised in the windows of the castle, and
the ragged flag which waved over the loftiest watch-tower, floated
from the middle of its staff. The last sand of the hour-glass had run,
and Henry Trevethlan was numbered with his fathers.

Trevethlan Castle was an extensive pile of Tudor architecture, situate
on a bold headland projecting into the sea between the Lizard and
Marazion. The state apartments stretched along the cliff, and
commanded a fine view of Mount's Bay and the surrounding uplands;
while the other buildings of the castle, strengthened at intervals by
lofty towers, enclosed an irregular court-yard. The remains of walls
and ruined turrets, sweeping inland, marked the circuit of what had
once been the base-court--a spacious area, where Owen Trevethlan
mustered his vassals to pursue Perkin Warbeck's rebels, obtaining for
his services on that occasion the title of baron. This honour had,
however, been allowed to lapse; and, although it was stated to be
easily recoverable, no subsequent head of the family had chosen to
moot the question. Perhaps they thought their name sufficiently
distinguished without any addition: perhaps the fact that, being a
crotchetty race, they were almost always in opposition to the Crown,
made them loth to seek even the shadow of a favour.

But the days of feudal violence and civil dudgeon were long gone by;
and instead of the clang of arms and the tramp of soldiers, the
base-court of Trevethlan Castle now echoed no sound more military than
the occasional crack of a fowling-piece; and its silence was more
generally broken by the mower sharpening hi