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Updated: July 17, 2025
I was simply indifferent, partly, no doubt, through exhaustion caused by my long illness. It was a warm evening in August. We ought to have been at Blackpool, of course, but we were in my house in Trafalgar Road, and the tramcars between Hanley and Bursley were shaking the house just as usual.
The Pennystone, off the Lancashire coast by Blackpool, tells of a submerged village and manor, about which cluster romantic legends. Such is the sad record of the sea's destruction, for which the industrious reclamation of land, the compensations wrought by the accumulation of shingle and sand dunes and the silting of estuaries can scarcely compensate us. How does the sea work this?
"Well, if you want river subjects you must come and find them at Blackpool," said Rainham; and Oswyn had replied abruptly that he would. And he kept his word, not once but many times, dropping down on Rainham suddenly, unexplainedly, after his fashion, as it were from the clouds, in the late afternoon, when the clerks had left.
Their father, a hard-worked, and often melancholy man, had delighted in them, summer and winter, and his two girls had trudged about the fells with him year after year, and wanted nothing different or better. At least, Nelly had always been content. Bridget had grumbled often, and proposed Blackpool, or Llandudno, or Eastbourne for a change.
Both pilot and navigator had the honour of knighthood conferred on them at the conclusion of the journey. The enterprise caught on remarkably, and the company extended their activities to coastal resorts for the holiday season at Blackpool alone they took up 10,000 passengers before the service was two months old.
He had been selected to judge the cattle at the Royal Agricultural Show at Preston, Lancashire, and I accompanied him. The warm, genial weather added to my enjoyment. We took up our quarters at Blackpool, as there was no accommodation to be had in Preston. Newbery was appointed to show him round. I followed as if in the Prince's retinue, and enjoyed the novelty of the situation.
This other fear was so awful, that it hovered about each of them like a ghostly shadow; neither daring to think of its being near herself, far less of its being near the other. And still the forced spirit which the whelp had plucked up, throve with him. If Stephen Blackpool was not the thief, let him show himself. Why didn't he? Another night. Another day and night. No Stephen Blackpool.
'I towd thee, my dear, said Stephen Blackpool 'that night that I would never see or think o' onnything that angered me, but thou, so much better than me, should'st be beside it. Thou'rt beside it now. Thou mak'st me see it wi' a better eye. Bless thee. Good night. Good-bye! It was but a hurried parting in a common street, yet it was a sacred remembrance to these two common people.
He could renew old acquaintances, lend a hand to the farmers, or wander at will along the chalk beds of the gipsies or dry water-courses which wind their way from the hills to the sea. Years ago he and his wife had given a trial to Scarborough, Blackpool and Morecambe as seaside resorts, but they felt like foreigners there and had come back to Bridlington as to an old home.
The Avocat looked at her musingly for a moment. All at once there had been unfolded to him Kilquhanity's story. In his younger days Kilquhanity had married this woman with a face of tin and a heart of leather. It needed no confession from Kilquhanity's own lips to explain by what hard paths he had come to the reckless hour when, at Blackpool, he had left her for ever, as he thought.
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