But Peter now was huddled down with his coat about his ears and did not move again.
“Catchin' the whip like that—might 'ave 'ad us right into the 'edge,” muttered Mr. Jackson, wishing his journey well over.
As they turned the corner the lights of Treliss burst into view.
CHAPTER II
SCAW HOUSE
I
Mr. Jackson inquired as to the hotel that Peter preferred and was told to drive anywhere, so he chose The Man at Arms.
The Man at Arms had been turned, by young Mr. Bannister, from a small insignificant hostelry into the most important hotel in the West of England. It stood above the town, looking over the bay, the roofs of the new town, the cottages of the old one, the curving island to the right, the lighthouse to the left—all Cornwall in those grey stones, that blue sea, the grave fishing boats, the flocks of gulls, far, far below.