"Not so vague, Roger. Your grandfather took to unlawful ways. He kept a smuggling vessel, which in some cases ought to have carried a black flag, and the maiden he loved was given to another, who died of a broken heart. For twenty years my father's life was a curse. His mind was filled with the most horrible fancies. Dark dreams haunted his pillow, and then, although he married my mother, he was until the day of his death harassed by difficulties and crushed by oppressors."
"And did he die happy, father?"
My father looked very strange as I asked this question, and for a moment did not reply. Then he said, slowly:
"Roger, my boy, I was with him at the last, and never shall I forget the scene. It was as if a terrible dread rested upon him; and he seemed to feel an awful presence in the room.
"'Can I do anything for you, father?' I asked.
"'Send for the parson, Roger,' said he, 'and let him give me rest, or the curse that rests on me will rest on you.'
"It was midnight, and no one would dare to go, so I rode away alone to the vicarage. It was an awful ride. The powers of darkness seemed to know my object, for the elements were against me and I heard terrible howling along the sea coast; but I feared lest the curse of the Trewinions should fall upon me. The vicar was afraid to come when I told him about my father; but I threatened to drag him thither by the hair of the head if he refused. At length I got him to ride in front of me, and we came to my father.
"Ah, Roger, his cries were fearful! 'Take away Trewinion's curse!' he screamed, and he looked as though he saw angry spirits around him.
"The parson prayed, and, in the name of One above, commanded all evil to depart; but for a long time no ease came. Then there was a noise outside—three raps against the window, as though a bird had flown up against it. The moment after the light in the room changed.
"'Do you forgive everyone?' said the vicar.