"Ours is a curious race, Roger," my father began. "Our name began strangely. God grant that it may not end with you."
"I hope it may not, father."
"Cherish the hope, my lad, for the last son of the Trewinions will die a terrible death, haunted by evil spirits."
I shuddered.
"The Trewinion race sprang from the Trevanions," he went on. "The mother of our people was a Trevanion, and she, while but a child in years—for she was scarcely seventeen—married a nameless nobody, who, fearing the wrath of her brothers, ran away like a coward as soon as their wedding was found out. When it was known that she was going to be a mother, Lord Trevanion built a house and sent her here with a nurse, blessed with the gift of second sight. When the child was born—a son—the nurse, who was held in great respect by the family, sent for Lord Trevanion, who came, wondering at her message. Then she told him that many things had been revealed to her on the night of the child's birth, which she thought he ought to know.
"On being asked what she meant, she replied that messengers from the spirit land had revealed to her that the boy was to be called Roger Trewinion, and that he was to have certain lands in that neighbourhood, then owned by Lord Trevanion.
"So much was he moved by the nurse's story that this manor house was built, and the lands now belonging to it were handed over to this child. And thus, Roger, your name and mine began to be, and thus we own the lands belonging to Trewinion Manor."
"And what became of the mother of this child, father?" I asked eagerly.
"She lived many years with her son; lived with him, indeed, until she died."
"And he?"
"He married a lady belonging to the Penwardle family, one of the best families in the county."
"And so our race has lived here ever since?"
"Ever since. They dare not leave it. If, for six months at a time, the master of the family, or the son and heir, live away from this place, built at the command of Heaven, he brings a curse on the race of Trewinion which shall last unto the third generation."
I felt very grave, for this was strange news to me. In my young, careless life I had not troubled to ask the history of my family.
"There are many things I have to say on another occasion," said my father, "but most of them can wait. One thing, however, I must tell you. The nurse who was with the first Trewinion at his birth lived until he was blessed with a son, then, according to the records of the house of Trevanion, she uttered these words:"
My father here took a piece of paper from a strong box and began to read:
Trewinion's land so rich and free,
Stretching out against the sea,
So Trewinion's name shall stand,
Like the rocks which on the sand
Defy the angry breakers' power,
While Trewinion's heir is pure.
And so Trewinion's heir and pride
A power shall be in the country side.
And his enemies one and all
Shall for ever droop and fall.
"This refers to us, father, does it not?" I said.
"It refers to me and to you; and if God gives you children it refers to your eldest son and to his eldest son. But I have not read all yet, Roger, my son. Pay good heed to what follows next.
But let Trewinion's heir observe
Never from the right to swerve,
If from God's pure laws he stray
Trewinion's power shall die away;
His glory given to another;
And he be crushed by younger brother.
Then his son, though born the first,
By the people shall be cursed.
And for generations three
Trewinion's name shall cursed be,
Trewinion's heir must never hate,
Never from this law abate.
Trewinion's son must e'er forgive
Or 'twill be a curse to live.
If he take unlawful ways,
Dark, indeed, shall be his days.
His loved one taken by his brother,
His power given to another,
Who will surely seal his doom,
Unless he claim the powers of wrong.
The course cannot be turned aside
While evil feeling doth abide.
————
Let these words be ever read,
Ere Trewinion's lord be dead,
To the true and lawful heir,
And so Trewinion's blessings share.
"It seems very curious, father," I said, when he had finished. "It is poor poetry, and has little or no meaning."
"I will say nothing about the poetry," replied my father; "no doubt it seems to you poor, silly doggerel; but I have no doubt of this, Roger, your interest and mine lie in abiding by what it says."
"But it seems so vague, father," I urged.
"Not so vague, Roger. Your grandfather took to unlawful ways. He kept a smuggling vessel, which in some cases ought to have carried a black flag, and the maiden he loved was given to another, who died of a broken heart. For twenty years my father's life was a curse. His mind was filled with the most horrible fancies. Dark dreams haunted his pillow, and then, although he married my mother, he was until the day of his death harassed by difficulties and crushed by oppressors."
"And did he die happy, father?"
My father looked very strange as I asked this question, and for a moment did not reply. Then he said, slowly:
"Roger, my boy, I was with him at the last, and never shall I forget the scene. It was as if a terrible dread rested upon him; and he seemed to feel an awful presence in the room.
"'Can I do anything for you, father?' I asked.
"'Send for the parson, Roger,' said he, 'and let him give me rest, or the curse that rests on me will rest on you.'
"It was midnight, and no one would dare to go, so I rode away alone to the vicarage. It was an awful ride. The powers of darkness seemed to know my object, for the elements were against me and I heard terrible howling along the sea coast; but I feared lest the curse of the Trewinions should fall upon me. The vicar was afraid to come when I told him about my father; but I threatened to drag him thither by the hair of the head if he refused. At length I got him to ride in front of me, and we came to my father.
"Ah, Roger, his cries were fearful! 'Take away Trewinion's curse!' he screamed, and he looked as though he saw angry spirits around him.
"The parson prayed, and, in the name of One above, commanded all evil to depart; but for a long time no ease came. Then there was a noise outside—three raps against the window, as though a bird had flown up against it. The moment after the light in the room changed.
"'Do you forgive everyone?' said the vicar.
"'No,' said my father, 'I can never forgive the man who stole from me the woman I loved.'
"'But,' said the vicar. 'Trewinion's curse cannot be removed while unforgiveness is in your heart.'
"My father looked at the blue light on the table, and then said, 'I'll try and say the Lord's Prayer.' He went steadily