awn of day other memories came to me. I thought of my
shame; I remembered that she had been told to regard me as a vagabond
and a street brawler. I knew that Nick Tresidder would seek to poison
her mind against me, and that even now I was being searched for that I
might be degraded by the lash of a whip; and then a great pain and
bitterness filled my heart, for I felt that my love was hopeless. While
I had rejoiced in loving I thought not of this, but after a time my love
became a desire, an overmastering desire to woo Naomi Penryn, to make
her love me as I loved her.

And this was hopeless. Had she not seen me pilloried as a shameful
vagrant? Had she not seen me persecuted, tormented--the byeword, the
laughing-stock for the offals of Falmouth town? Had I not been pelted by
refuse? Was I not made hideous by disfigurement? How could I win her
love? Then I hated the Tresidder tribe more than ever. They had robbed
me of my home, my heritage, my all, and now through them I must be
loathed by the one, the light of whose eyes burned into my heart like
fire. But more than all this she would be with Nick Tresidder day by
day. He would walk with her, ride with her, talk with her. They would
roam among the woods and pluck the wild flowers that should be mine,
while I--I was hiding from the men who held a whip to lash me.

These thoughts kept me from lying still any longer, so I got up and
walked along under the great trees until I came down to the river.
Perhaps the world can show more beauteous sights than the river which
runs between Truro and Falmouth, but I have my doubts. Nature here is at
the height of her loveliness and spreads her riches with no niggard
hand. For the clear water coils its way through a rich countryside,
where green woods and rich meadows slope down to the river's bank. Here
the flowers come early in the springtime, and scent the air through the
summer; and here, too, winter is tardy in making its appearance, as if
loth to shrivel the shining leaf, or to cause the gaily-painted flower
to wither and die.

Even I, as I stood by the river's bank at early sunrise, torn as my mind
and heart were with conflicting passions, was soothed by the blessedness
of the scene, for my heart lost something of its bitterness and love
became triumphant. But the feeling was not for long. As I stood by the
still water I saw the reflection of myself, and the sight made me more
hopeless than ever. I saw in the water a tall, wil