f an hour's walking found a
church and perhaps a dozen houses. I was not long in finding the
vicarage, for it was the only house of importance in the neighbourhood.

Parson Thomas received me very kindly. He was a little man, well fed,
and apparently on good terms with every one. I don't think he knew much
about religion as Mr. John Wesley taught it, but he was kind-hearted and
full of merriment. Moreover, if he neglected people's souls, he did not
neglect their bodies. He insisted on giving me refreshments, and
although he looked very curiously at Eli, he sent him into the kitchen
and gave instructions that he must be looked after.

"I am a bachelor," laughed the jolly vicar. "So much the better all
around. I've no one to bother me. I've got my dogs and my horses. At St.
Ervan there is a pack of hounds, and I've the best hunter within six
parishes. I have a service every Sunday afternoon in the church, and so
far we have no Methodists. I've some good wine, good home-brewed ale,
and plenty of cider. I rear most of the flesh eaten in the house, and am
happy--ha, ha! Now, what can I do for you?"

I asked if he knew of any religious house belonging to the Catholics in
the neighbourhood.

"There are a few Catholic families," he said.

"Who are they?"

"Well, there was a Catholic family at Trevose House--an old house built
on the cliff not far from Trevose Head. At least, Mrs. Penryn was a
Catholic, and the girl was brought up a Catholic. A priest from Padstow
used to visit the house."

"Do you know anything about them?" I asked.

"Mrs. Penryn is dead; her husband--well, it's a sad story. Poor fellow,
he committed suicide well upon twenty years ago. Everything was left to
the daughter. She has gone to the West to stay till she's of age, or
married, under the guardianship of a Richard Tresidder. I think I heard
something about Tresidder's son marrying Naomi, but I'm not sure."

"Did the priest who visited Trevose belong to any religious
community?--I mean, is there a convent or nunnery at Padstow?"

"No. Let me see--oh, yes, I remember now; my friend Page, from Mawgan,
was telling me about it. Close to Mawgan Church is the Manor House of
Lord Arundell. I daresay you will have heard of it--Lanksome. It is a
delightful spot. Well, the Arundell family has always remained Catholic,
and were terribly bitter against the Reformation. The present Arundells
came into possession about thirty-five or forty years ago, and it i