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Updated: June 9, 2025
Who could have dreamt when he roamed amain in his youth here with dogs and fowling-piece that he would creep one night over these dunes a renegade Muslim leading a horde of infidels to storm the house of Sir John Killigrew of Arwenack?
Then he came through the snow that was all squelched and mudded just about the forge, and leered at Sir Oliver. "I am from Arwenack," he announced unnecessarily. "We have been talking of you." "You could have had no better subject of discourse," said Sir Oliver, smiling, for all that his eyes were hard and something scared though his fears did not concern himself.
In this letter Pitt informed him that he had done all that Sir Oliver had desired him; that he had found the document by the help of Nicholas, and that in person he had waited upon Mistress Rosamund Godolphin, who dwelt now with Sir John Killigrew at Arwenack, delivering to her the letter and the parchment; but that upon learning on whose behalf he came she had in his presence flung both unopened upon the fire and dismissed him with his tale untold.
The other hundred he left on guard aboard. He took so great a force upon an expedition for which a quarter of the men would have sufficed so as to ensure by overwhelming numbers the avoidance of all unnecessary violence. Absolutely unobserved he led them up the slope towards Arwenack through the darkness that had now closed in.
Thus they spent the weary night, watching for the return of one who Master Lionel knew would return no more. At dawn they roused the servants and sent them to scour the countryside and put the news of Sir Oliver's disappearance abroad. Lionel himself rode out to Arwenack to ask Sir John Killigrew bluntly if he knew aught of this matter.
The Godolphins were a stiff-necked race, and Rosamund bore in her frail body the spirit of a man. She looked up when he entered, started a little in surprise to see him at last, for it was the first time he stood before her since he had carried her off from Arwenack some four weeks ago.
He ate but little, and never addressed the old servant in the course of that brief repast. He was very pensive. In thought he followed his brother on that avenging visit of his to Arwenack. Killigrew was no babe, but man of his hands, a soldier and a seaman.
Sir John, as much in his earlier commerce with the Tressilians as in this pregnant hour, certainly appears to justify his lordship of that criticism. There were a score of questions a man of perspicuity would not have asked, not one of which appears to have occurred to the knight of Arwenack.
It followed naturally enough that just as Sir Oliver's opposition of that cherished project had been the seed of the hostility between Arwenack and Penarrow, so Lionel's support of it became the root of the staunch friendship that sprang up between himself and Sir John. What Lionel lacked of his brother's keen intelligence he made up for in cunning.
'Tis a most cursed insufferable pup." "Art a judge of men, Lal." Sir Oliver stood up booted. "I am for Arwenack to exchange a compliment or two with Sir John." His tight-pressed lips and resolute air supplemented his words so well that Lionel clutched his arm. "You're not... you're not...?" "I am." And affectionately, as if to soothe the lad's obvious alarm, he patted his brother's shoulder.
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