Perhaps there is no lovelier spot anywhere between the Tamar and Land's-end than Tregothnan. It overlooks the Truro River, and all that vast stretch of woodland which surrounds it. Around the house, which is an ancient pile, are rare gardens and parks, where old trees grow, the like of which is not to be found in the fairest county in England. The house was in many parts becoming decayed, and I had heard reports that Hugh Boscawen hoped one day to replace it by a more commodious dwelling. But I suspect that, like his father, he was too busy with political schemes to care much for a place justly renowned for many miles around.
I was shown into the library where Hugh Boscawen and three other gentlemen sat. Two of these I knew slightly. One was Sir John Grenville and another John Rosecorroch, the forefathers of both of whom fought against Cromwell nearly a century before. My attention, however, was more particularly drawn to Hugh Boscawen, before whom I was especially brought. As I looked at his face I was somewhat reminded of his father, who had died eleven years before, and whom I had twice seen. It called to my mind, also, the stories I had heard about the first viscount. So great was the old man's political zeal that he had caused the arrest of many who held high monarchical principles. Even Sir Richard Vyvian or Trelowaren, and Mr. Tremain, two of the most renowned and highly respected gentlemen for miles around, did not escape his vigilance. They were friends of his too, but, as he declared, "friendship had nought to do with principles."
The son, however, was not so great a man as his father. He had not the same commanding countenance, neither did his eyes flash forth the same light. On the other hand, the man before whom I stood seemed to be aware that he did not possess a keen, penetrating intellect, and as a consequence was suspicious and very cautious. Report had it, too, that he was very zealous in his service for the King, and would leave no stone unturned in order to carry out his designs. In proof of this, he had, as I have already stated, been engaged in raising an army to resist any forces which the Young Pretender might be able to command.
"Roger Trevanion," he said slowly, "I am sorry to see you here."
"Then it is a pity I should have been brought here, my lord," I said a little hotly, for it went sore against the grain to be brought a prisoner before a man whose family was no nobler than my own.
"Neither would you have been brought here," he replied, "had not the country been threatened by danger, and some, about whose loyalty there should be no doubt, have become renegades."
"You may have received information which has no foundation in fact, my lord," was my reply. "Nevertheless I should like to ask two questions. First, what right have you to have me brought here a prisoner? and second (providing you can prove your right to arrest whom you please), what are the charges laid against me?"
"Although you have asked your questions with but little respect for my position," he replied hotly, and I saw that his vanity was touched, "I may inform you that by the gracious commands of His Majesty, King George II., it is my duty not only to raise an army in Cornwall wherewith to fight any rebels who may take up arms on the side of the young Pretender, but also to arrest any who give evidence of plotting against the peace of the country, or who in any way favor the claims of the descendants of the Stuarts."
"Admitting that you are commissioned to arrest traitors," I said, "I wish to know why I am included in such a category. This is the first time a Trevanion was ever degraded in such a way, and if I speak hotly, I think there is but little wonder."
"I have treated you leniently, Roger Trevanion," he replied. "Remembering the house to which you belong, I ordered that your arrest should not be made public, and that every consideration should be shown you. Have not my commands been obeyed?"