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Updated: June 12, 2025
Well, I'm off now to see about the horses. If I come for you in half an hour, will that do?" As soon as he had left Mrs. Rosewarne turned to her daughter and said to her, gravely enough, "Wenna, one has seldom to talk to you about the proprieties, but really this seems just a little doubtful. Mr.
"She will be very sorry we did not get away altogether," Mabyn answered. "And of course it was Mr. Roscorla who spoiled it. Nobody knew anything about it but himself. He must have run on to the inn and told some one. Wasn't it mean, Wenna? Couldn't he see that he wasn't wanted?" "Are you talking of Mr. Roscorla?" Trelyon said: George Rosewarne was a bit ahead at this moment.
So things went on until one Christmas Eve, when there was gathered at Rosewarne a large company of the most beautiful and well-born of all the families in Cornwall. Such a gathering had seldom been seen as was gathered that night in the great hall for the ball Ezekiel Grosse was giving; and in the kitchen was an equally large party engaged in the same form of enjoyment.
George Rosewarne was inclined to laugh when he thought of his overawing in this fashion the high spirit of his younger daughter. By slow and sure degrees he gained on the fugitives, and as he could now catch some sound of the rattling of the carriage-wheels, they must also hear his horse's footfall. Were they trying to get away from him? On the contrary, the carriage stopped altogether.
At one moment she protested that it was madness of her son to think of marrying Wenna Rosewarne; at another, she would admit all that he said in praise of her, and would only implore him not to leave England; or again she would hint that she would almost herself go down to Wenna and beg her to marry him if only he gave up this wild intention of his.
Many a time he recalled afterward and always with an increasing weight at his heart how sombre seemed to him that bright October day and the picturesque opening of the coast leading in to Eglosilyan. For it was the last glimpse of Wenna Rosewarne that he was to have for many a day, and a sadder picture was never treasured up in a man's memory.
Months went by, the feastings and gaieties grew more and more splendid, the hospitality more and more profuse, those who had not his acquaintance, craved it, and everyone bowed before the 'Lord of Rosewarne, as in time he came to be called. Indeed, he went about as though he were the lord of the whole county, and everyone his inferior.
The misfortunes to his family did not end, though, with Lutey's disappearance, for, no matter how careful they are, how far they live from the sea, or what precautions they take to protect themselves, every ninth year one of old Lutey's descendants is claimed by the sea. There was once upon a time a good old Cornish family of the name of Rosewarne.
I know her first impulse would be to pay any money to smooth matters over, but that would be a bad beginning, wouldn't it?" "Yes, it would," Wenna said, but somehow, at this moment, she was less inclined to be hopeful about the future. "And as for you, Mrs. Rosewarne," he said, "I suppose you will be going home soon, now that the change seems to have done you so much good?"
The farmer, seeing he was in the way, called out a careless good-night and rode on. "Well, what's the matter?" said George Rosewarne a little snappishly: he did not like being worried by excitable people. "Your daughters!" gasped Mr. Roscorla. "They've both run away both of them this minute with Trelyon! You'll have to ride after them. They're straight away along the high-road." "Both of them?
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