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Updated: June 21, 2025
But the sight of his back, as he turned away, caused Sir Cæsar's eyebrows to bristle up yet more pugnaciously. "Hi, sir?" Tregarthen turned slowly. "You are waiting here to fetch your children from school, I suppose?" "Yes," said Tregarthen. "And isn't that an instance, man, of what I tried to make you understand two days ago?
The Lord Proprietor!" echoed the Commandant, laying down his glasses and rising to his feet in blankest amaze. "Yes, sir; shot with his own gun, and, they say, by Eli Tregarthen! The two men have pulled across from Inniscaw for help, and to fetch the constable.... I had the news from Sam Leggo hisself, as he raced off to knock up Mr. Pope." The Commandant sank back in his chair.
Wa'al, these two are brothers, fact! Hugh's come to life again, and here he stands. Now see here, my friend! That man by name was Lawrence Clissold." At the mention of this name Tregarthen started and changed colour. "What's the matter?" said the captain. "He was a fellow-clerk of mine thirty five-and-thirty years ago."
Having copied the letter and read it over with no little approval, the Lord Proprietor dealt briefly with the rest of his correspondence; consulted his pocket-diary, looked at his watch, and, finding that he had an hour to spare before granting an interview to Eli Tregarthen, stepped out upon the terrace, where Abe Jenkins was cutting back the geraniums that had well-nigh ceased to flower.
He did so with a slight wave of the hand. "You wish to ask me a favour?" "I do. I came to plead with you; to say a word on behalf of Eli Tregarthen, your tenant on Saaron Island." The Lord Proprietor started. "Are you at the bottom of that also?" he asked, angrily. Vashti's eyes opened wide in astonishment. "I beg your pardon?" she murmured. "I do not understand."
Their converse was general and desultory until they reached the Land's End, on the point of which they had resolved to breakfast. "Now, Oliver, we have purchased an appetite," said Tregarthen, throwing down a wallet in which he carried some provisions; "let us to work."
So saying the old gentleman left the room, shaking his head with profound gravity. Next day Oliver Trembath and his friend Charles Tregarthen, before the sun had mounted his own height above the horizon, were on their way to the Land's End. The young men were admirably suited to each other.
The men soon turned their attention to him again, and some of the more violent were advancing to seize him, with many terrible threats of further vengeance, when Rose ran between them, and entreated them to spare him. Tregarthen seconded the proposal, and urged that as he had got pretty severe punishment already, they should set him free.
The beach opposite Newlyn presented a busy scene when Oliver Trembath and his friend Charlie Tregarthen reached it. Although the zenith of the season was over, mackerel fishing was still going on there in full vigour, and immense crowds of men, women, and children covered the sands.
Herrick Vyse, has accepted a commission to paint the two beautiful daughters of Lord and Lady Tregarthen at their historic home in Cornwall. The young subjects, who are twins, are only nine years of age, but are ranked among the loveliest of England's many beautiful children, and doubtless the artist will do their childish beauty full justice. Mr.
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