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Updated: June 20, 2025
As might have been expected in such a man as my grandfather, this religion was of a joyless and gloomy order, full of anticipations of hell-fire and conviction of the sinfulness of ordinary folk. But it undoubtedly was sincere, for his wife Philippa believed in it, and the master and mistress of Lantrig were alike the glory and strong support of the meeting-house at Polkimbra until her death.
It was I that dreamed I heard without comprehension the rest of the captain's tale: how he had come, after a quick passage from Ceylon, to Falmouth with the barque James and Elizabeth, just in time to hear of this monstrous lie; how he was unmarried, and never had a day's illness in his life; how, suspecting foul play, he had hired a horse and gig with a determination to drive over to Polkimbra and learn the truth; how a horse and gig were the most cursedly obstinate of created things; with much besides in the way of oaths and ejaculations.
Joe Roscorla had not returned from Polkimbra; so we were left alone to the gathering shadows and the horror of the tale. When my uncle finished there was a long pause. Finally he reached out his hand for his pipe, filled it, and looked up. His kindly face was furrowed with the marks of weeping, and big tears were yet standing in his eyes. "Murdered," he said, "murdered, if ever man was murdered."
Only by degrees he broke from the seclusion which had been natural to him during his parents' lifetime, so far as to look about for a wife shyly enough at first until he caught the dark eyes of Margery Freethy one Sunday morning in Polkimbra Church, whither he had gone of late for freedom, to the no small tribulation of the meeting-house.
"Blood shall be their inheritance, and Fire their portion for ever." The curse had lain upon us all. Creeping along the shadow, I crossed the little Cove and peered through the archway on to Polkimbra Sands, now sparkling in the moonlight. Not a soul in sight! As far as eye could see the beach was utterly deserted and peaceful.
Once more we sat together by the widowed hearth, reading: once more we stood upon the rocky edge of Pedn-glas and looked into the splendours of the summer sunset "for father's ship:" once more we knelt together in Polkimbra Church, and prayed for his safe return: once more I heard that sweet, low voice once more? Ah, never, never more!
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