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Updated: May 11, 2025
At last, in a nook formed by the weathered joints, Eustace found a rugged niche, somewhat dryer than the rest, and laid Cleer gently down in it, on a natural spring seat of tufted rock-plants. Then he settled down beside her, with what cheerfulness he could muster up, and taking off his wet coat, spread it on top across the cleft, like a tent roof, to shelter them.
"It's the grandest spot along the Cornish coast. From here you can see in one view St. Michael's Mount, St. Michael's Crag, St. Michael's Church, and St. Michael's Promontory. The whole of this country, indeed, just teems with St. Michael." "Which is St. Michael's Promontory?" the young man asked, with a side glance at Cleer, as they called the daughter.
Alarmed and irresolute, Cleer sat down on the rock, and facing landwards for awhile, waved her handkerchief to and fro to attract, if possible, her father's attention. Then she scanned the opposite cliffs, beyond the gap or chasm that separated her from the mainland; but she could nowhere see him.
"Cleer," the father said, warningly, in a modulated voice, as the young man approached, "don't let your hat blow away, dear; it's close by the path there." The girl he called Cleer darted forward and picked it up, with a little blush of confusion.
The orphaned mother clasped her hands. This was too, too much. And Michael, if the fit came upon him, would strangle that young man, who was doing his best after all for Cleer and Eustace! But that night in his bed Trevennack lay awake, chuckling grimly to himself in an access of mad triumph.
The... the accident might happen to any boy any day." "Yes, yes," Tyrrel answered, passionately. I know all that. I try, so, to console myself. But then I've wrecked that unhappy man's life for him." "He has his daughter still," Le Neve put in, vaguely. It was all he could think of to say by way of consolation; and to him, Cleer Trevennack would have made up for anything.
As it was, however, he never alluded to Tyrrel in any way before Cleer. He had learnt to hold his tongue. Madman though he was, he knew when to be silent.
The next excursion was to the North Coast, Pentire Point, Tintagel, King Arthur's Castle, etc. On the 1st of February he left Penquite, and slept the night at Trethinnick. The next morning he set out on horseback accompanied by Nicholas Borrow. To the vicar of St Cleer and his family, Borrow was a very welcome visitor.
Trevennack answered, drawing himself up to his full height, and looking proudly before him. "Cleer's future is at stake. Cleer has a lover now. Till Cleer is married, I'll give you my sacred promise no living soul shall ever know in any way she's an archangel's daughter." From that day forth, by some unspoken compact, it was "Eustace" and "Cleer," wherever they met, between them.
Cleer needed a change indeed; she'd spent the best part of a year in London. And for Cleer, that was a wild and delightful holiday. Though Eustace wasn't there, to be sure, he wrote hopefully from the north; he was maturing his ideas; he was evolving a plan; the sense of the magnitude of his stake in this attempt had given him an unwonted outburst of inspiration.
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